Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

of these men so they will pay for their actions today. No, I will not forget. Because I don’t want to forget.

The young girl’s grunts transform from pain and struggle to screams chockfull of rage. The man rips the patch from her face, and her head turns to the side, facing me. Her eyes are wide and intense, one pale green, the other almost black in this fading light. Certainly, an Imp. There is no fear in those eyes. Only murder.

The man forcing himself on her screams. Not from climax, but agony. He pulls away and his entire groin is shaded in black. He looks down upon himself, sitting on his knees, screaming in pain. The others stare at him in disbelief. They haven’t grasped what has happened. As the screaming man continues to writhe in agony, his penis falls to the ground and splashes, making a black puddle of flesh. He keels forward and lies motionless on the alley floor.

“She’s not a Sprhowt. She’s a fucking Graft! An Imp!” One of the men points at her and yells. “Look what she’s done to Carib. Kill her!”

The four men advance on her while she lies naked on the ground, hands behind her back. It’s not a fair fight. If only I could…

Suddenly, she does a skilled maneuver to leap off her back and land on her feet. The rope vines fall from her hands, and she attacks.

One of the four receives a roundhouse kick to the jaw, accompanied by a crunch, leaving a black footprint across his face. Immediately after that, she seamlessly moves on to the next, assaulting him with a knee in the gut and jabbing him right in the nose with an open palm, causing him to spurt blood from his face and fall backward.

The next two look at each other, wide-eyed, then attack at the same time. The girl lunges forward and rolls between them, quickly popping back to her feet. She acquires her dragon staff from one of the bodies lying on the ground as she rolls and extends it out forcefully, smacking one of the men in the mouth. He spits crimson and ivory, then attacks. Fearless, she performs skillful twists with her dragon staff then spins her body through the air and wallops the man across the head. Lands and spins again, walloping him a second time across the back of the neck. And spins again, walloping him a third time on the side of his knee, forcing his legs to buckle. He collapses to the ground. She then punches her fist into his chest and pulls it out. In her hand is a beating heart. It turns to mush and she squeezes it through her fingers, letting it drip over the man’s body.

The last man standing, the fat man, turns and sprints down the alley. Heavy footsteps thunder past me and get fainter until I can no longer hear them. The young girl doesn’t bother chasing after him.

She looks around. The rest of the men are either dead or lying unconscious on the ground, and the intensity escapes her. She suddenly looks like a scared young girl again, roaming a dark alley. And in need of a garment.

She ventures toward me and kneels beside me. “Thank you.” She withers my bonds. I need to learn how to do that.

“For what?” I ask.

“For attempting to help me. I’ve never experienced that before.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” I rub at my freed wrists. “I merely approached them to defend you. What any normal person would do. Are you alright—”

“Not what any normal person would do. I’ve never had anyone defend me before. I’ve never had anyone try to protect me. It was… Never mind.”

Despite the current situation, I am finding it hard to not stare at her naked figure, and it is making me feel outright creepy. I take off my own tunic and hand it to her. “Here, put this on. You shouldn’t be parading around without any clothes on.”

She willfully takes the garment and slides into it. It fits her just well enough to cover all her lady parts.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her.

“Sorry for what?” she asks.

“Sorry you had to experience what you did. If I could have prevented it, I would have. I didn’t know what to do.” I lower my head, ashamed of my pitiful attempt at rescuing her.

“It’s not the first time something like this has happened,” she admits.

I look her in the eyes, unsure how to reply. She knows it’s an odd confession.

“This was a test.”

“A test?”

“Yes, and not the last. My mentor sends me out here to train, knowing the scum lurking around here will try to prey on an innocent girl. He allows me to have at least one form of defense and encourages me to use all my assets to defend myself. He always tells me I’m turning into a beautiful woman at too early of an age, so I figure it one of my assets. I thought the form fitting clothes and perfume might allow me to seduce my way out of the situation, but it proved to work against me, obviously.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“I can’t accept failure.” She gives me a hardened stare. As if my question was blaspheming.

“A girl of your age shouldn’t be seducing anyone. You’re only a few seasons older than me.”

“I’m thirteen,” she states. “You can’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. You don’t know me.”

I’ve clearly touched on a sensitive spot.

“What about your parents? How do they feel about this?” I ask.

“I have no parents.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any siblings or family of any kind?”

“No. Just my mentor. He’s the only family I have. He’s like a father to me.”

“Most fathers wouldn’t allow their