Series: The Sacrifice Series by Natasha Knight
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“You were born in France,” I remind her.
She shakes her head. “No. I was banished to France. When I tried to do what Tobias refused. He chose to save the Wildblood woman over his own family. He released her from her obligation and banished me to France, cutting me off financially and keeping me under lock and key in that house. You didn’t know that, did you?”
No, I didn’t. I don’t bother saying it though. It hardly matters anyway.
“But he died. Drank himself into an early grave, and good riddance.”
“You are a sick old woman, you know that?”
“I thought with your father, Shemhazai heard my prayers, and I was being given a second chance. But he, too, refused. And, as our law dictates, the inheritance is never divided. It is only bequeathed to the eldest male and again, I was banished. Well, your father and mother banished themselves, I suppose. They left me in France and cut off all ties with me. But we see how far Shemhazai’s sword reaches, don’t we? He will have his sacrifice. And you, Azrael, you were strong. Not like the others. You were my hope. Even if you needed a little motivation.”
She means Bec.
“Abacus. Did you have anything to do with his death?”
She raises her eyebrows. “He didn’t need help. That boy was weak. In fact, all of the Delacroix men have grown weak. You should take an example of Isaiah.”
“I think not.” I step toward her, finished with her nonsense. “Let me tell you what is happening now, Grandmother.” To call her that leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, and I swear it will be the last time I say it.
She clutches that piece of the stone and looks up at me, her eyes as cold, and as dead as Shemhazai’s.
“You will no longer be allowed near my family and that includes Willow and my unborn child.” Distaste makes her face harder. Uglier. “Because I choose her too. I choose the Wildbloods over you.”
“Do you think I’m surprised?” She grins a malicious grin.
“You will be taken to a facility far away from us to live out your final days. I will not deny you medical care in your last weeks of life, but that’s where it ends. You will die alone.”
That grin grows wider, all her yellowing teeth showing. “Send me away, if you like. I don’t need to be here. I know the rules. Her blood needs to be spilled here, on Delacroix soil. It’s simple enough. Once she’s gone, you’ll follow and then, once he finishes you, I will return to my rightful place.”
Without conscious thought, my arm shoots out to close around her throat. She drops that rock and grasps my forearm with both of her hands, her eyes huge, veins bursting as I strangle her. She makes a sound, her lips moving into a wicked smile and a flash of memory cuts in, Elizabeth on Proctor’s Ledge. Elizabeth with the rope around her neck. Isaiah gleeful to watch her execution.
I realize what I’m doing. I realize I’m no better than him if I can murder this old woman.
I release her with a roar, and she stumbles backward, falling on the rubble that was once her beloved Shemhazai’s altar. And she laughs. She laughs the laugh of the insane as two guards come around the corner and stop dead when they see us.
The phone in my pocket rings. I ignore it.
“Take her to her cottage. If any one of you lets her out of there, I will personally kill you all. You hear me?”
They look at each other and it takes one a beat to answer. “Yes, sir!”
I glance back to Salomé. “It’s over!” I tell her before I turn to walk toward the house.
“Oh, it’s far from, Azrael!” she calls out. Her cackling laughter follows me all the way back to the house until I slam the door closed behind me and shut her out, and even then, her words echo overlaid by Elizabeth’s mutterings, and I know she’s right. It’s not over. Far from it.
Even with her out of the house, away from Bec and my family, even with one threat gone, this is far from over.
23
WILLOW
“Hey.” I touch Azrael’s shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. “Are you coming to bed? It’s getting late.”
He nods but doesn’t retreat from the threshold to Salomé’s former room. While I stayed with Bec and tried my best to keep her calm, Azrael was busy clearing out the old woman’s things. Most notably, the cases of nutritional shakes she was feeding Bec are now drained, the containers piled into three black garbage bags.
“I want it all gone tonight,” he says. “I just want her fucking gone.”
“I know.” I settle my hand over his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “But it’s been a long day. It can wait for the morning.”