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

boat. It’s certainly not ironwood like the stories depict. It is a much lighter-colored wood with almost a greenish hue to it. Teak, maybe.

The rest is far from any other boat I’ve seen. The cabin consumes almost the entire deck, leaving only a tight walkway. It seems odd to me someone would want to live on the water when their home is tied to the land. I keep all my derisive comments to myself, though, to avoid getting flogged by Ellia.

The cabin itself, including the door to enter, looks like ironwood. A heavy and unnecessary wood to be used on a boat, if you ask me. Maybe it’s the lightweight variety the Navimar are known for.

My suspicions grow as we stand outside the entrance to the cabin, and I wonder if whoever is on the other side has this defensive structure for a reason. It’s possible he has many enemies he wishes to keep out. He could be some type of chronic killer or maybe a member of the Celestial Cloaks gone rogue. If that’s the case, these are certainly my last moments.

Ellia grabs the handle on the door and shifts her weight, putting pressure on the hinges. Or maybe she’s relieving pressure from the hinges. I’m not sure, but she opens the door without a sound and sneaks into the cabin. I squeeze through the small opening right behind her.

The interior of the cabin is far from sophisticated. In fact, it resembles the yurt I called home not too long ago. We stand in a large, rustic room with a small kitchen on one side and a bed on the other. The only separation is a partition expanding half the length of the room. There’s one other door in the kitchen, which I presume leads to the lav.

The home looks as though it’s been ransacked. The sleeping quarters are toppled with soiled clothing and bedding. There is almost no place to step without having to move something out of the way. Whoever lives here is a degenerate.

Ellia pushes forward, seamlessly navigating the disaster strewn across the floor. I follow her footsteps, arms extended for balance. My wobbly steps don’t maneuver about as quietly as Ellia. She makes her way to the bedside and lightly peels back the bed covers. To my surprise, there is a man sleeping underneath all the clutter. Ugh. And he has left over scraps lying next to his face. Repulsive. Ellia retreats.

“He’s all yours,” she whispers in my ear then dips behind me to the door.

I take a deep breath and look over my shoulder to see if Ellia truly intends for me to go solo. She stands at the door, ready to vacate, and gives me one last nod and gestures for me to unsheathe the sword from my back. I face the man I’m about to murder and do as she commands, gripping the cold leather in my hand. I scan the blade, running my fingertips up and down it, checking for defects that might give me an exit out of this situation.

Ellia glimmers in the reflection of the blade, standing close behind me as I delay the inevitable. From behind, a shocking force pulls at me. My clothes are ripped from my body, leaving me standing in the flesh with nothing but a blade in hand. In utter disbelief, I turn to see Ellia standing in an open doorway, twirling her kukri in her fingers with a subtle grin. My clothes blend in with the collage of objects on the floor. Ellia gestures for me to keep quiet with a finger at her lips then sticks out her tongue and acts as if her knife is cutting into it.

I’m aghast! But what can I do? I keep my mouth shut. Ellia slams the door with the rustle of a fastening latch to follow. Abandoning stealth, I yank on the door. It wants to open, but I’m not strong enough. I push on the door. The same. She’s locked me in. She locked me in! She locked me in with nothing but flesh, a blade, and a target. Susy save me.

“What do we have here?” A scratchy voice calls. “A youthful morning surprise? Just the fix I need. The sword is a nice touch. Aggressive. But intriguing. We’ll just have to be careful how we use it.”

The man tears the blankets free from his body and gets to his feet. Unlike myself, he is freely standing in the nude. And even more alarming, he is already at attention.

“Excuse me one moment while I drain the bladder, will you? Then we can get to it.”

What does this man think we’re getting to? He walks toward me casually. I stagger backward, naturally trying to flee from an old, naked man heading my way, and trip, landing on a pile of soiled yet plush bed sheets. The man, still at full attention with a penis aged fifty seasons, ignores my naked body lying on the floor and carries his large gut straight to the water closet.

Thus far, there isn’t anything malicious about him. Although he’s off putting, I would expect most men to be fully attentive and eager when waking to a naked girl in their sleeping quarters. And he walked right by me, sprawled across his floor, without even a glance. But why is he not surprised to see me?

The man disappears into the water closet. Enough thought about whether he deserves to die or not. I need to get out of here. What was Ellia thinking? She didn’t say anything about doing this in the nude. I get to my feet and head for the exit. The door still won’t open despite my best efforts tugging and pulling.

“Ellia! Ellia!” I exclaim while whaling on the door. “Let me out. Let me out, Ellia!” No response.

“What’s all the uproar?” The scratchy voice jeers. “I thought you