Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) by Emma Hamm (books to read this summer .txt) 📕

was the one to bear the brunt of their heightened emotions she was both startled and intrigued by.

She shook herself. Seeing fire upon his skin was not helping anyone. She didn’t need to entertain thoughts that were likely get the two of them killed.

His eyes were watching her when she looked at him. They were like wolfen eyes staring at her from the underbrush. Yet it was only his own wild mane that he stared through.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked.

“Why would I leave?”

“I’m getting cold.”

Mercy blinked a few times, feigning confusion. “And?”

“And I’m going to get out of this water and likely embarrass you.”

“Why would I be embarrassed by you? Are you embarrassed by your body?”

His mouth gaped open for a few seconds as he tried to gather his thoughts. She kept her expression neutral, curious to see what he would do.

Jasper squared his shoulders and his chest puffed out as he looked her up and down. “Not at all.”

“Good.” She smiled slowly, like a cat who had been poured a bowl full of milk. “Then I’m not sure why you’re hesitating.”

He caught her gaze and grinned. Sauntering out of the water like he owned the entire river, he plowed through the eddies towards her.

Mercy sighed. She had known there would be scars. Decorated like some kind of well worn armor, his skin was marked by battles. He truly was a strong one. A jagged, white scar roped across his ribs. A large chunk was taken off of one of his hips just above the bone. Red bite marks, burns, and even a few magical rings were laid out across his body.

Not to mention, he was still physically fit. Even the time he had spent behind bars couldn’t degrade his body enough to make him thin. He hesitated only briefly when the water hit his waist and she hadn’t yet moved.

Mercy remained seated upon his clothing and enjoyed the show.

Only when he stood before her, his hands upon his hips, did she look at him. Even then, she took her time. Her eyes lingered upon every detail from the seashell shape of his toenails to the center part on his head.

He waved an impatient hand at her.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes?”

“You’re on my clothes,” he said. His face was beet red, and his freckles stood out even more than before.

“I know.”

“Are you going to get off them?”

“You really shouldn’t get them wet. They’re the only pair you have. And I’m afraid there just aren’t any others that will fit you.”

He growled low in his throat. “Mercy.”

“I just don’t think you should, Jasper.”

She could feel his eyes burning into her. There was a heat that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps now he would understand the thoughts that had plagued her since their kiss. Which he had ignored, completely and thoroughly.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“Immensely.”

“I should throw you in the river for this.”

“I can’t swim, so I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

They were at a stalemate again. He seemed not to know what to say. Mercy knew that at some point in her life, she had known how to swim. But those memories were gone, along with her name and the faces of her parents.

Finally, she relented, “Fire doesn’t mix well with water.”

“Fire doesn’t mix well with many things.”

“I suppose you could say that,” she said, tipping her head back even further to look up at him.

The sun was blocked behind his head. Somehow, that managed to give him a halo as he glowered at her. Strange how attractive this man could look even shivering as he was now.

Pity was not in her nature. But even she was susceptible to a grown man quaking like a child in front of her. She sighed.

“Fine, have your clothing.” She reached underneath herself  and tossed the garments at him. “Just be quick about it. We need to get back to camp.”

“Is that so?” he asked as he pulled on his pants.

“Priscilla sent me this way for a reason, but I can’t for the life of me remember why.”

“Priscilla?”

“The Hag. You ask a lot of questions, you know?”

“All the better to know you with, my dear.” His flashing grin nearly blinded her.

“Did you just quote a fairytale at me?”

“Well, you are the definition of Sleeping Beauty.” His voice was muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head.

“Oh, don’t say that. I’m hardly a princess.”

He grinned as he started towards the camp. “Come on then, princess, we’ve got monsters to battle.”

“We aren’t battling anyone.”

“So you admit they’re monsters?”

“Jasper!”

Ignes grumbled as he was unceremoniously scooped up and thrust down her shirt while Mercy rushed to keep up with the laughing Fairy.

12

Life in the camp was easier than Jasper had ever expected. He had quickly fallen into a comfortable daily rhythm. He woke up, they convened for breakfast, and then each person would have their own respective duties to attend.

Usually Jasper was asked to do the simple tasks. At first, he had insisted upon taking on the manual labor. He was a strong man, had always been the strong man.

He quickly understood how wrong he was. Working alongside a real Giant and Centaur was humbling. Their strength was beyond anything a human could ever attain.

The image of the Centaur handing an entire tree to Tiny would remain with Jasper forever. These creatures still seemed mythical to him. He woke every morning thinking this was a dream he would wake from.

When he awoke each morning, he half expected to see the glowing lights of Haven.

Instead, he was always greeted by the fireflies that insisted upon living inside his tent. Jasper thought they were an infestation, but Mercy had laughed when he had mentioned it and teased him for knowing so little about his own species. Fireflies and Fairies were always dear friends, she’d told him. How could he have forgotten?

She was not the only one to tease him. The Hag was particularly fond of jabbing words that suggested