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

Jaymes produces several more blades. From where, I don’t understand, but they fly, one after the other. Her dark hair has grown quite a bit since the Broken Forest. It reaches just below her shoulders. Her brilliant amber eyes are more radiant than ever. Beautiful amongst her dark features. She is a woman now. She’s found herself. She doesn’t need my protection. It’s quite the opposite.

She swiftly moves toward the Taoiseach, not with her feet, but an acrobatic aerial move. A move you’d only see in one of the Human Knot’s performances. He readies himself for her obvious attack. But she stops just short, landing in a crouching position with her head down, and slams both fists into the ground. The dark chamber floor turns a shade darker, and the decay spreads from the floor onto the leather of his boots until they are no more. It continues up his body, consuming him entirely like a rapidly growing vine trying to overpower darkness to find light. The Taoiseach falls to his knees. Jay confronts him with a murderous glare, not rising from her kneeling position.

“I wanted to believe you, Taoiseach, sir. Trust you. Learn from you. But…I’m afraid it’s too late. The Shadow has already consumed me, and there is no room for your truths, deceits, or whatever you have bestowed upon me because it doesn’t matter anymore. I cannot let this realm be consumed by war, which is where you’re leading it. I have fulfilled my promise to you.”

The Taoiseach, now on hands and knees, raises his head. His entire body is covered in the black decay up to the top of his bald scalp. His eyes are a blinding white against the blackness. The two of them are nearly face-to-face, at an arm’s reach. The Taoiseach whispers to her, “And what promise is that?”

“My promise to end your life seamlessly.”

“So you think.” He shakes his head, and some of the grueling sluff flops to the ground. “But you have failed yet again. And you had so much potential, Jaymes. It’s a shame. I wish you would have fled as I’d planned.”

The darkness consuming his body fades as though his skin absorbs it. Then, the darkness blossoms from his right forearm. With his fingertips outstretched, the black rot bubbling and bursting from his hand, he grabs Jaymes by the throat. It envelops her neck and spreads across her body so rapidly I have no time to react. But I do anyhow.

The Taoiseach rises back to his feet with Jaymes clutched in his grip. He’s been stabbed multiple times and his flesh rotted from the inside out, but he stands strong as ever. He is inhuman.

“You cannot kill me while I still have the will to survive,” the Taoiseach proclaims.

“Then we shall kill your will to survive!” I cry out as I rush him.

With Life Bringer at the ready—one blade extended in front and the other at my hip—I charge. The Taoiseach launches her blackened body at me. I’m unsure if I should parry or catch her, but regardless, I’m not quick enough. Jay’s body collides with me, and we both spill to the ground. I carefully move to free myself from her weight and attempt to roll her gently to the side. But she won’t roll off me so easily. Then I see it. The tip of Life Bringer protruding from her chest.

“This could have played out much differently,” the Taoiseach says. He pauses for a moment. “None of you had to die. I thought maybe this time it would be different. But you’ve forced my hand, and now we must suffer the consequences.” He pauses again, then whispers, “Even a man of my stature makes mistakes. Unfortunately, my mistakes usually come with greater consequences.”

I hardly hear what he has to say. I hold Jay in my arms, cradling her tightly.

“Yes, even a man of his stature makes mistakes,” Kell Cromarte says, obviously delighted with what the Taoiseach has done. “Taoiseach, sir, we will leave the two of you to your rather imperative meeting, but what you have done is taboo, and we cannot treat this lightly. Harboring fugitives. Murder.” A subtle grin finds its way onto a strained frown. “Gentlemen.” The Chancellor gestures the men toward the exit. “The Taoiseach has another guest to entertain, and I believe he no longer needs our council for the time being.”

The men of Parliament evacuate the chamber, all except for Nigel. He pauses at the doorway and turns to face Harris. “Taoiseach, sir,” he voices. “I have given more thought to what my favorite number is.”

“And what is that, Nigel?” the Taoiseach replies carelessly, as he stares down upon the disorder he must deal with.

“One, sir. For that is all the murders we needed to witness for us to denounce your throne. Take it easy on the boy, sir. It would be easier for us if he remained alive. But if you must kill him, then all the same.” Nigel turns and walks out the door.

Just as he leaves, before the door shuts behind him, Sasha spews in. Her face is distraught at the sight of events. A disassembled table split in two, the rotting remains of my sister, and an evil tyrant about to receive retribution. She looks to the Taoiseach for guidance. He gives her a nod after a long moment of the two staring at one another. There was an inaudible communication in that stare. She flees the room without the two of them saying a word.

Jaymes’s radiant eyes remain full of life, unlike the rest of her body. The amber glow amongst her blackened flesh sends shivers down my spine. I force her eyelids shut, unfortunately, not without tearing the rotting flesh and exposing a touch of amber and white. Tears stream from my eyes and soak into Jay’s decomposing flesh. I place a palm on her chest, and