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

The cup in her hand dropped to the ground as she darted towards him. Once at his side, she reached out to place a hand against his arm. Apparently he was steadying most of the women in his home today.

“Is that— Is that a Giant?” Lyra asked him.

“Yup.”

“A real Giant?”

He raised his hand and pinched his pointer finger and thumb together. “A small Giant.”

All the color faded from Lyra’s cheeks as the remaining humans in his house came running out to join them.

“That’s a small one?” Lyra and Wolfgang said simultaneously.

“Yup.”

“Good gods.” Wren’s voice was not just her own. E’s delicate accent was overlaid with thousands of others. “They really do exist.”

“We told you they did.”

“Excuse us if we found that hard to believe.” Burke chuckled. “I just never thought I’d be looking at a man who was half horse.”

Jasper turned around and furrowed his brow. “That’s what startled you? Not the twenty foot man hefting Mercy around like she’s a feather?”

At least Burke seemed a little embarrassed. “I can deal with the big man. But the hooves are making me uncomfortable.”

Jasper smacked his forehead. “Save me. Come on then, let’s go make the introductions.”

As a group, the humans walked towards the creatures. Wolfgang and Lyra were already reaching for hidden weapons, and Burke had Wren tucked underneath his arm. But they were together, and Jasper had a feeling the others could take care of themselves.

None of them were safe. Not now, not ever. Mercy had taught him that well enough.

Once Jasper and his friends were closer, Tiny put Mercy back down and patted her on the head.

“We owe you,” the Giant told Jasper. “Thank you for reuniting us.”

“I’m happy to bring your family back together. I’d appreciate it if you stayed, Tiny. And any other misfits you’ve gathered along the way are welcome as well.”

Tiny inclined his head. “We’d like to stay for a while.”

“We need soldiers,” Wren called out. “The world is going to end very soon, and we want to stop it.”

“But you don’t know how it’s going to end,” Tiny said. “We know.”

“How?” Jasper asked.

“Priscilla, rest her soul, had a few premonitions before she died.” Tiny pressed a hand against his chest. “She knew she had to be there when Malachi attacked. But she also knew that we were going to be very useful to you in the coming days. That’s why we were looking for you.”

“So you’ll fight?” Wren asked.

A blast of hot air pushed all of them backwards a step.

“No one is fighting.” Mercy’s voice was firm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Mercy—” Wren tried to argue with her.

“No. I said no! This is my family.”

Tiny reached down and patted Mercy’s head again. Jasper was going to have to ask him how he got away with that. Mercy would have singed all the hair off Jasper’s arm for daring.

The Giant rumbled, “Oh little one. We’re adults, and we choose our own path. Besides, we want to look out for you.”

Jasper saw the worried expression on her face. He knew what that meant, and he felt the same way. Instead of arguing like the others, he simply stepped forward.

Her eyes snapped to him immediately. She watched him walk towards her with slow even steps until he was a few feet away. Only then did he open up his arms.

She came without a fight, embracing Jasper. Her hands curled at the base of his spine, and her breath was warm against his neck.

“I don’t want any more death,” she told him.

The others began to introduce themselves. Jasper held Mercy as both sides of their family merged. Lyra was climbing Tiny within moments. Wren, her eyes glowing white, ran her hands over the Thunderbird’s feathers. E was likely introducing long-lost family members to the bird. Even Burke was trying to look like he wasn’t holding in vomit while attempting to look over the Centaur with Wolfgang. Thankfully, the Centaur was flexing rather than being embarrassed.

Jasper squeezed Mercy. “We can’t dwell upon death. It’s going to happen, my love.”

“I don’t want any more.”

“And yet we will continue to fight. Won’t we?”

He leaned back enough to see the smallest spark of fire light in her eyes. “No, we will not fight. We will rise.”

Epilogue

“Have you ever lost someone, Rizzo? Someone important? Someone that meant more than life itself?”

The voice, somehow reminiscent of whiskey and smoke, drifted through the air towards Rizzo in honey-soft tones.

Pitch was stretched out on a couch, legs dangling over one of its arms. His red silk shirt was unbuttoned to reveal the smooth planes of his chest. Though he was thin, ridges of muscle rolled down his abdomen.

The cigar between two of his fingers was balanced precariously. Red smoke curled up from it into the air, and, if one looked closely, skulls and screaming faces swirled in the haze. Pitch inhaled the substance as though he needed it to live.

Pitch raised the cigar to his lips, but did not inhale again. He bounced one foot in the air, his knee-high boots gleaming in the dim light of the study.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t understand. Losing someone like that happens only once in your life,” Pitch grumbled.

His study wasn’t the perfect place for such a therapy session. The dim yellow and red light bulbs cast a sinister ambience on the opulently furnished room, and everything within was either red or black. He naturally strayed towards that color palette; dark colors accented by the occasional crimson or gold.

Above their heads, a crystal chandelier refracted the light to project bloody diamonds all around them. The shelves lining the walls were stuffed with books, and he realized suddenly that he had no idea what any of them contained.

“When did I get to the point of not knowing what’s in my own office?” he mumbled as he inhaled. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll redecorate soon enough.”

He wouldn’t. He had said those words a thousand times, but was never able to bring