Jax had thrown his sword with a power fueled purely by rage and hate. One motion. One throw. One kill.
He moved slowly toward the body pinned against the glass wall while the rest of the room still couldn't process what had just happened.
The holy church's supreme leader was gone in a flash. One second breathing. The next, a decoration.
Jax reached him. Gripped the sword handle still buried in the Pope's forehead and twisted.
The crack of bone echoed through the room.
"The show is officially over." His voice carried across the stunned silence. "Now let's return every single favor. Exactly as it was given."
He raised his hand to the Pope's face and playfully traced the line of blood dripping from the wound. Down the forehead. Past the eyes. Along the cheeks. Two red streams following the exact path tears would take.
He turned to Lysandra.
"Headmistress, can I count these as tears? Should I count them as payback for what dripped from Lilith's eyes?"
