Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (ereader that reads to you txt) 📗

range—all with large breasts, who haven’t seen a man in ages, I might add—then I’ll take all that excess boasting of yours and claim it for myself.”

“Fair enough. You do have that gorgeous smile and those lustrous locks to attract the mountain women. You can have them all to yourself.”

He understands I’d prefer not to talk about my embarrassing catch any further. We walk back the rest of the way in silence.

We arrive at the yurt just after sundown, expecting to find a hungry adolescent girl with a childish temper. Instead, we find the lanterns have yet to be refueled. Then, a broken door and a pool of blood.

“Jay!” My voice trembles. I drop my fish and tackle to the ground in a panic and burst into the yurt. The Taoiseach. This is his doing! He’s found us! Helios lies curled on Jaymes’s bed mat. He peers through half-opened eyes and stares at me without moving. Lazy tiger. There’s a glowing basket by his side. The thunderbugs. She may still be close.

I race back to Goose, who’s crouched and examining the scene at the door. “Let’s split up to search the wood. She’s been here recently. I’ll search the Forest Road. You check the surrounding areas.”

“Don’t be so hasty.” Goose raises his voice. “Check the sky, Stone. It’s too late in the day to go running off into the wood. You know what’s out there. You might not come back. These are your rules, Stone.”

“My sister is out there somewhere!” My voice grows louder than his. “If it means protecting Jay, then the rules can go to the wayside. If I don’t go out there, I might as well be dead anyways. She’s my responsibility and the only family I have left. Losing her would be worse than death. I have to find her.”

“You’re right. We must find her. So let’s think.” Goose pauses for a moment and looks around like nature is whispering secrets to him. My impatience heightens. “Look at the blood. It’s still fresh, so we know she’s close.”

“I’ve already come to that conclusion.”

“But is it Jaymes’s? If it were an accident, she could be at the river getting some fresh water to clean up. If it’s an intruder, then we have a bigger issue.”

“I don’t care who’s it is. We know she’s close. I’m going.”

“Maybe there’s a blood trail.”

“Yes! Great! You’re always boasting about how great of a tracker you are. Let’s see it. We’ll cover more ground if we split. I’m heading to the Forest Road. That’s the road the Taoiseach’s men would travel to get back to the capital.”

“Very well. And I am an excellent tracker, so you have my word I will find her, if you don’t.”

I haven’t been able to shake the blame of my parents’ deaths. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to Jaymes too. Let’s hope Goose’s cockiness is actually justified, for Jaymes’s sake.

“And take Helios with you,” Goose adds. “He may be unfit to carry your growing posterior, but he still has his heightened senses and a deadly pounce.”

I rush back into the yurt to summon Helios. Goose is hanging our fish on the curing rack when I return outside. My stomach grumbles at the sight — certainly not the smell—and I find myself annoyed that hunger is on my mind, and even more annoyed Goose has not started on the trail yet. But I don’t waste any breath on the argument for it’ll only slow us down. “I’ll be back before sunrise.”

Desperation is a difficult stink to scrub away. The men, women, and children all reek of it. I, too, have the stink emanating from my pores, so I must not fault them. This is not how we envisioned it. It's a side effect we could never have anticipated, for we are only man.

3 Goose

T races of blood are effortless to spot. There is so much. It’s upsetting. It’ll prove helpful, though. And with my proficient tracking, I’ll surely find her before the Creatures of the Night get unruly. A blind dog without a nose would be able to follow this trail.

As the crimson clues guide me, my thoughts race through different scenarios of what could have happened to Jaymes.

A masquerade involving the Taoiseach is the obvious conclusion, as Stone cautioned, but it’s doubtful the Taoiseach or any of his men would find us this deep in the wood. Four seasons have come and gone, and there’s nothing we’ve done to surrender our position. The three of us have all taken the necessary precautions to stay hidden because we know our livelihoods depend on it. Four daunting, lonely seasons is a long time to remain hidden, and most men would consider us deceased by now. However, my memory of the Taoiseach is that he’s a relentless man. I would speculate he has only put us to the side, knowing we’re alive somewhere, knowing one day he will tie up his loose ends. It would be impossible, with his character, for us to slip his thoughts entirely. The hunt will never be complete until he personally pierces our hearts or has absolute proof of our deaths. But not today. Not like this.

My accusations drift from the Taoiseach to the true terrors in this forest, but it’s unheard of for them to prey upon humans in their homes. On the contrary, most human’s homes aren’t in their yard. It’s said the Creatures of the Night tend to be cautious of light, natural or false. The few thunder lanterns we hang about our yurt have done the trick thus far, and Jaymes is no loafer at keeping the lanterns properly fueled, so there’s no reason that would change now. We don’t even have solid evidence of their existence. For all we know, these mythical creatures could be another