Black Blood (Series of Blood Book 4) by Emma Hamm (scary books to read .TXT) 📕

Apparently she had not yet succeeded.

“Are we leaving?” she asked.

“Not quite yet.”

He raised a hand above their heads, and she saw the showering sparks of magic dancing from his fingertips. Her lips parted in awe.

A mask dangled in the air between them. Its enchantment was so strong that the magic made it entirely visible to her mind’s eye. Tiny glass feathers spread from the center outwards, arching back in a graceful beat of a wing.

“For you, my love.” Pitch said. He lifted the mask from the air and settled it upon the bridge of her nose. Shadows wrapped from the mask, slid underneath her hair, and locked the glass creation in place.

“What is it for?”

“I don’t want anyone to remember you.”

“I’m a rather unremarkable person, Pitch. It's doubtful anyone will remember me anyway.”

“You aren’t a Red Blood anymore. No one could forget you now.”

Perhaps he was right. Lydia forgot so easily how much she had changed. In her mind, she was still the shy mousy girl who hid in the corner away from the world. She was wearing the skin of another woman now. A Goddess who had the power to save the world.

Still, it didn’t feel right to be a Goddess in everything she did. Keeping a bit of humility would only help in the long run. Or so she thought.

Lydia placed her hand atop his forearm, smiling up at what she hoped was the direction of his face. “To the club?”

“To the club.”

Shadows swirled to create a tornado of darkness that swallowed them whole. She felt them pulling at the edges of her dress, tugging the strands of her hair out of their braid, threatening to rip her out of Pitch’s arms. But he held her gently. She was secure within the haven of his embrace.

Their feet touched plush carpet, and the shadows melted away. This time differed from the first wild ride she remembered in his arms.

“That wasn’t-”

Pitch interrupted her. “It was a pleasure to travel with someone the correct way. I usually have to ride the winds of shadows with a human body, they’re much too fragile to travel through the darkness. You have come into your own, Lydia.”

“A Goddess for real then?”

“I should say so.”

He bowed to her. To her.

Her hands shook. “Please don’t do that.”

“I’m not going to stop any time soon. Your power is nearly at its peak, Lydia.”

“I don’t want to think about that right now. We need to focus on Malachi.”

“We are,” Pitch said as he stepped forward. He pulled her into his arms, into the quiet space between his heartbeats. “You were made for this. You were made for me. And I will help you in every way possible.”

She curled her fists underneath her chin. “I know. I do. But there’s so much to fix, to predict, to watch over. I can’t do everything.”

“You cannot forget yourself as we do this. You are just as important as the rest of them.”

“I’m not more important than the world, Pitch.”

“You are to me.”

The words rocketed through her bloodstream. The burning blaze of truth seared the edges of her mind and zinged through her heart. She was electrified. She was burning alive. All while her soul and worries were soothed by his presence.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Every instance of myself, every moment of web of Time, I have loved you.”

“This is not goodbye,” he reminded her. “We are going to a party. You will see Malachi, to see his true strand of Time. And then we will leave.”

Lydia told herself to be stronger. He didn’t need a woman falling apart as soon as she left his house. He needed someone to stand by his side. She wanted to. That was the point of undertaking his entire journey, of learning how to see the future, of every tiny thing she had done.

That didn’t mean her palms weren’t sweaty. And it certainly didn’t mean she could breathe any easier.

He stroked her hair. “It’s harder when you cannot see. Is that it?”

“It’s as good an excuse as any, I suppose.” Lydia tried to laugh, but the sound was not mirthful and fell flat in the shadows of his office. “Maybe I’m just weak willed.”

“You most certainly are not,” he growled. “You have done everything without argument. You have learned to use your power with little training. You survived capture by the most feared man in the City if not the world!”

“And you’re giving yourself quite a lot of credit.”

“It’s the truth. I have been kind to you, gentle even. But if you were anyone else, I would have cut off little pieces of you until you finally gave in to what I wanted.”

A giggle forced its way between her lips. “Would you really?”

“Or I would tie you to a rack and stretch your limbs further and further until you resembled a rubber band.”

This time, she chuckled. “What else would you do? Frightening man that you are.”

Pitch gave her one last squeeze before giving her room to breathe. “You’re laughing, but this is all true. I’m not a good man, Lydia. I’ve been called a butcher, a monster, a demon.”

“You are all of those things and more, I do not doubt it for a moment. But you are mine. And I refuse to be afraid of someone who has given me their soul.”

She inhaled the sweet taste of his breath as he leaned down. His lips feathered over hers, the softest of touches lingering like the fluttering beat of a butterfly’s wing. He breathed her in. Devoured her air. Swallowed her worries and fears.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Does this dress really make me so unforgettable?” Lydia asked as she wrapped her hand around his bicep.

He lead her from his office. She inhaled the comforting scent of cigar and chocolate one last time.

“You would be unforgettable whether you were wearing a burlap bag.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

They glided down the hallway. Lydia had never thought herself capable of gliding, but there it was. Her feet barely touched