DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) by J Kiefer (best classic books to read TXT) 📗

stomach and contemplating just how much he hated teleporting. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked around. Just as he suspected, they were standing outside the door to his motel room.

“I guess there is no need to ask how you knew where I was staying, is there?” Jeremy said as he straightened up. “Who am I speaking with, by the way?”

Jared stared at Jeremy for a moment before he shook his head, attempting to dispel the disorientation he felt. “What happened? Are there more demons?”

“Well, that answers my question.” Jeremy fished in his pocket for his room key. “Put down the sword; we are safe for now. Let’s go inside and get out of the cold. I am exhausted, famished, and I have to pee.”

Jared searched the night for any hidden enemies then, satisfied, he followed Jeremy into the motel room. Jeremy had already turned on the lights and tossed his coat over the nearest chair. The hotel room was nothing special, but it was clean, and Jared plopped into one of the desk chairs while Jeremy went to the bathroom.

Tzedakah still glowed but softer than it had when they were attacked. Jared studied the sword. The blade appeared to be made of some kind of steel, but a jet-black metal that was rough like iron. He ran his thumb across the edge, testing its sharpness. Even though the blade seemed weathered and aged, it was keen as the finest razor.

Jared was no scholar, but he did have a rudimentary knowledge of swords and ancient weaponry. When he was young, he had been fascinated by medieval history. This looked like a European long sword with a cruciform hilt.

Upon further inspection, he noticed that the hilt was in the shape of a scale held by a woman. The cross guard was the scale’s beam, and the quillons were in the shape of pans. The grip was the shape of a woman’s arm and had what appeared to be a white linen cloth wrapped around it. The entire weapon was wrought iron black, from the tip to the pommel, which was fashioned into the face of a beautiful woman wearing a blindfold.

Jeremy returned from the bathroom after a few minutes and opened the small refrigerator. He pulled out a half-eaten sandwich and a can of soda, popped it open, and drained half of the sweet liquid in a single gulp. Then he munched his sandwich. “So, any idea of what we are supposed to do next? I need to get back to the city tomorrow for work. I’d like to get at least a few hours of sleep before I have to head back. So, if we could speed this along, that would be great.”

Jared looked up from inspecting the sword to gaze at Jeremy. Flashes of information raced through his mind in an instant, too fast for any human mind to comprehend. Somehow he registered it all and not only understood what he was seeing, but remembered every bit of it as if he had a photographic memory.

“Why does your life flash before my eyes every time I look at you?” he asked. His voice still seemed strange to his ears as if someone else was speaking through him. “At least, all of the horrible things you have ever done or have ever been done to you.”

Jeremy continued to chew on his sandwich as he contemplated the question. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think it has something to do with the sword, it being the ‘Spirit of Justice’ and all.”

“That makes sense, I guess. Why can’t I see any of the happy moments of your life? You must have some that are not so... depressing.”

Jeremy chuckled and drained the rest of his drink. “Well, once when I was two, my daddy gave me a candy bar before beating me. That was nice.” He smiled. “Of course I have good memories, everyone does. But why do you only see the dark ones?” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe you should ask the glowing ghost blade.”

Jared scowled. “You really are no help at all.”

“Sorry. I can tell you one thing, though. If you don’t find a way to connect with that sword there, you won’t be around for very long.”

“Are there more demons out there?”

“Demons are the least of your worries, brother. They are lightweights compared to some of the other baddies I have crossed paths with over the years.”

“Great.” Jared sighed. “I hate the feeling of not being in control of my own actions. It’s disconcerting.”

Jeremy smiled. “I can see that. But, uncomfortable or not, you have to find a way to deal with it. On a different note, let me ask you something. Do you have the sudden urge to kill me?”

He shook his head. “That is the second time you mentioned me possibly wanting to kill you. Why?”

“Well, you are the new Spirit of Justice, after all.”

“What does being Justice have to do with killing you?”

Jeremy grew serious. “When you looked at me, you not only saw what happened to me, but all the things I did. I am no saint. So, I’ve got to know, did you have a reaction to anything I did, or rather, did the sword?”

Jared’s eyes seemed to bore into him as he contemplated the question. “Yes, kind of. I don’t really understand what I saw or what I felt. I don’t think it wanted to kill you. At least, not right now. Honestly, it is hard to distinguish between what are my feelings and what are the sword’s. It’s all so jumbled up in my head.”

Jeremy crumpled his empty can and tossed it into the garbage next to the desk. “Well, I guess I can relax, now that I don’t have to worry about you killing me in my sleep.”

That settled, Jeremy yawned and decided he was going to call it a night. He had just made it into the bathroom to brush his teeth when he heard the door slam.