Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm (bill gates book recommendations .TXT) 📕

Her dreams would be filled with the emotions that she wanted to create. Sometimes these were bad things. Fear, anger, depression, death, all of those horrible things would torment her until she awoke. Her favorite times were when she was making good emotions. Happiness, hilarity, peace, all those emotions that felt wonderful. E was always there with her, a mirrored image of herself.

It guided her through the good and bad dreams. Once the adventures were complete, she would wake up to a swirl of colored smoke around her. It was easy to trap the smoke once it was created, though she had to cover her nose so she didn’t inhale any of her own juice.

Then she could shake the smoke with some water or alcohol to turn it into whatever form she wanted. It was magic, Wren knew this. She had a talent for magic ever since she was little. Unfortunately, she had never been able to use it for anything useful.

The only thing she could use or create were these emotions. She was lucky she was able to create that.

Wren was exhausted halfway through the night. It was busier than usual because the night had turned to rain. She closed sometime around 3 a.m. but really was open as long as the money was coming in.

As she worked, she made a list of things she had to fix; light bulb, ceiling, broken windows, get a real bed. The list when on and on until it had become a weight on her shoulders.

“Stop worrying.”

“Not possible,” she murmured as she climbed up the ladder once more to reach for a thick grey liquid.

“Good things will happen.”

“To those who wait? Yes, I know, E.”

She couldn’t quite reach the bottle. It was on the highest shelf, and every time her fingers touched it, she pushed it back even farther. Ridiculous that she even kept these vials like this. She mentally added better shelving units to the never ending list.

“You never know!”

She knocked the bottle even farther back, which made a frustrated growl erupt from her mouth. “I know that if I don’t get this bottle in my hands, I’m going to hurt someone.”

The bells on her door jangled again, and she let her head rest against the top ladder rung for a moment. Tonight had been longer than most, and all she wanted to do was rest. Not dream to create more Juice but just sleep in a black void of nothingness.

She snatched the bottle in her fingers and turned on her heel with the Juice in hand. The night was going to be busy.

His knees were aching. Sharp pricks of pain spread from his numb feet into his thighs. Burke refused to allow it to distract him. He knelt on a cold stone floor that was far beneath the earth with his eyes closed and his breathing slow. The pain was not a distraction but an addition to his existence.

There were no lights in the room and no sound other than the echo of his own breath. Slow and steady, the sound helped to focus his thoughts and his mind.

His palms rested against the strong cords of muscle on his thighs. His spine remained straight and solid. His chest expanded with each great breath. If not for his breathing, many would have assumed that he was made completely of stone.

The dreaming world was a difficult one. It required more concentration to navigate than most could manage. There were so many winding labyrinths of sound and colors that it was easy to disappear into another person’s wonderful dream and never come back out. Burke would know, he’d been lost in the dreaming world before.

The meditation process was important to center himself before he was in danger once more. He was always in danger in the dreaming world. There were many people who wanted to kill him and even more that wanted to use him for their own purposes. If he even thought of them for a few seconds, he would find himself in their dreams.

He was here for a reason, here in this room, kneeling on the cold floor until his legs went numb and his fingers turned blue with cold. He was here to find a person who fulfilled a certain list of oddities. He wasn’t precisely certain who it was or even where they were..

Burke was one of honored few that worked with a group known only as the Five. They were powerful and old creatures that had awoken only when they felt the rumblings in the earth. An old enemy had risen from his grave and was stirring the pot.

He didn’t know who this enemy was, nor did he care to know. Burke had always been a fighter, and he would continue to fight until he found someone who could best him. But the Five were worried, which was why they had gone into a deep sleep to find the answer to the war they felt was coming.

They had returned with a riddle that was neither explanatory nor helpful. Seemed more like a shopping list to Burke than anything else.

L ost in a crowd is the creature that binds,

It is they who have lost all of their minds.

Beneath the ground is the creature who protects,

Carved and scarred by all it detests.

F orgotten in moss is the creature that sees,

One who destroys, ruins, and decrees.

Hidden in smoke is the creature that kills,

Riddled with boxes, magic, and pills.

F lesh and blood connects them together,

It is they who stop the rising aggressor.

T  he Oracle had whispered these words over and over as she woke from her sleep. The Five had pooled all of their energy together to seek the future while draining themselves of magic and power.

And that bullshit was what they had exhausted themselves for.

Now it was up to Burke to find these people and figure out where they were. These four people were more important to the Five than even their own lives. Which meant Burke had to find them or