Silver Blood (A Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm

Author:Emma Hamm [Hamm, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Sand was crusted in the edges of her eyes. Wren wanted to rub them fiercely until the feeling disappeared. She tried to lift one of her hands, but it was firmly held against the smooth surface of the chair she sat upon.

Slowly, she blinked her eyes open. It took a while for them to focus, and even then it was difficult for her brain to understand what she was looking at. She was staring at her own legs. That meant she must be looking down, but she couldn’t understand why she would be looking down at her own legs.

Why wasn’t she horizontal if she was sleeping?

Memories started to spark in her head like fireworks going off in the sky. E explaining what it was, the leap that tossed her conscious mind back into the vessel of her body. And then nothing.

She blinked harder. Her shoulders ached as feeling slowly returned. All of her weight was supported on her shoulders as her torso leaned forward and hung limply over her lower half.

Flexing her fingers proved to be difficult. In fact, moving anything appeared to be far more of a chore than it logically should be. She blinked her eyes a few more times.

“Everything working?”

She was unable to respond verbally. She had always spoken to E out loud, and though she tried to think the words at the creature, it didn’t seem to hear her. At least she was in control over her own body.

“I’ll take that as a no. Try to breathe, little one.”

The order wasn’t an easy one to follow. She continued to focus on forcing her body to breathe. Eventually, she was able to open her mouth enough to let out air. Her lips parted as a long low wheeze expelled from her body.

The movement was the key to the lock that held her body down. She shook her head hard and closed her mouth as drool threatened to leak out of it. Wren attempted the immensely difficult job of sitting back up, but the only thing she managed was a slight twitch of her fingers.

She heard a thump that sounded familiar but could do nothing other than shake her head. A soft clink of glass warned her just before a hand touched her shoulder.

“Wren?”

Jiminy’s whiskey-smooth voice soothed the ringing in her ears. He sank onto his haunches before her and gently pushed her weight backward. He held her in place then and ducked his head to look into her open eyes. “Is it you?”

She took strength from the warmth of his hand against her shoulder. Slowly, she inhaled again. A nod felt as though it required the remaining store of energy inside her. She managed the smallest of movements.

A breath of air whooshed out of Jiminy as he nodded slowly along with her. His relief was palpable.

When she did not speak, he reached for her hands and gripped them a little too tightly. Her fingers looked delicate wrapped inside his. Wren’s hands were calloused from work, and tiny scars decorated the tips of her fingers from mishaps in her Juice making.

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