Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2) by Emma Hamm (best short books to read .TXT) 📕

the bird in the skeleton’s hands. The makeshift cage would have to do until she was back out in the air where she belonged. It wasn’t ideal. He would have prefered a metal cage, but Mungus had a way with animals. He took after his creator.

“Take her back to the air, Mungus.”

Lyra shuffled her feet. “You really shouldn’t call him that.”

Wolfgang arched a brow. “Mungus?”

“You said his name was Charlie.”

“He doesn’t care.”

“How do you know?” Lyra licked her lips as though she was nervous. “His name is Charlie. You rose him from the dead; you could at least call him by his first name.”

He had never considered it before. Mungus was created to be little more than a servant. Wolfgang hesitated to think of him as a slave because he had somehow become a rather strange friend. A first name made him even more familiar with the dead man.

Yet, there was an emotional quality to her thoughts. Wolfgang was a practical man. He did not think about what would affect other people’s emotional state.

“Perhaps you are right,” he murmured. “Charlie, would you take the bird outside?”

If the dead man had lips, Wolfgang thought he might have smiled. Alas, he no longer had flesh. Therefore, Charlie Mungus did little more than bow and leave the room with the bird cradled delicately in his hands.

Wolfgang watched Lyra rather than Mungus. Her eyes lingered upon the door long after the reanimated man left. Worry made him linger upon darker thoughts. Was she terrified of what he could do? Of what he had created?

“Why are you so opposed to helping the Five?” Lyra’s question burned bright in his mind.

There was no answer to her question. He did not work for anyone. The dark spells that burned on his tongue and left him with the taste of ash refused to allow him a diversion from his purpose. He had enough to worry about here in his kingdom underneath the ground.

He had created a graveyard of living things that had previously only wriggled in the soft earth. He had given them purpose and allowed them a safe home. No powerful being would ever tear him from that.

But he could not tell her that. He could not tell her the dark thoughts that he constantly battled. She would shrink away from him in fear when she realized he truly was a monster made of rotting flesh and broken bones.

“Wolfgang?” she asked.

“I want to show you something.”

He held out his hand for her to take. His fingers were nearly as skeletal as Mungus’, but she did not hesitate for very long before her hand slid into his. She was warm. So much warmer than he had been in years.

No one had touched him for as long as he could remember. He had not felt living flesh against his own for a very long time. This would not do. The distraction was far too great.

He shifted to move her hand carefully into the crook of his elbow. From there, he could still feel the heat of her body but she was at least not touching him directly. Wolfgang chose to ignore the curious expression on her face as he guided her from the room.

“What are you showing me?”

“Something I believe you will find very interesting.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

He chuckled. “I can certainly believe that.”

They trailed down earthen hallways that were suddenly alive with creatures. A woman walked past them and flickered a snake tongue as she tasted the air. A family of dwarves wandered past, one of the children laughing in a guttural tone as it tugged upon its mother’s beard.

He tried to see his home through her eyes. The floors were well packed earth from many feet traversing through the tunnels. Floating candles drifted in the air to guide their way. Many dark creatures existed here, yet they were all smiling.

“There are more people here.” Lyra’s brows were furrowed as they passed by a few men with delicately pointed ears. “Are those…?”

“Elves? Yes. Unfortunately they are still being hunted.”

“Why wasn’t there anyone here last time?”

“I asked them not to be.” He lifted a finger in the air. “No more questions.”

“But—”

“I said no.”

She pursed her lips but remained silent. He had to think. He was guiding her through crowds of people who considered him their leader. Rumors were likely going to start, and he was going to have quell them.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t. He glanced at her as she stalked through his people covered in leather and little else. She wouldn’t be a bad queen at his side.

The thoughts were nonsense. She would never agree to remaining around him for very long. And he was gathering wool.

Wolfgang remained silent the rest of the walk until they turned down a corner where there were no more people. Very few candles hovered near the ceiling, and the end of the tunnel was shrouded in shadows.

“Is this where you kill me?” Lyra joked. “You won’t have a very easy time of it.”

“I have no plans to eradicate you.”

“Interesting way of saying that.”

He held onto her firmly as they walked into the darkness. She did not show any signs of fear, but he sensed a stillness in her body that suggested she was ready for anything. His Lyra was not an easy one to frighten.

His Lyra. She was not his. Nor was she likely to ever be his.

“Do you trust me?” Wolfgang asked her.

“No.”

Honest as well, so it seemed. Someday he would revel in words that drifted from her lips that suggested she did, in fact, trust him. That day was not this day.

“That is an acceptable answer,” he replied.

He stepped away from her. Her hand fell from his arm, and he felt a small sense of loss. Although he also knew how much excitement he was about to bring her.

His hands curved until both of his palms touched as he held his hands away from his body. Between them he felt warmth as he began to murmur a quiet spell. Slowly he