Brink of Dawn (A Chosen Novel Book 2) Read online

  Copyright

  http://www.EvolvedPub.com

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  BRINK OF DAWN

  (A Chosen Novel – Book 2)

  Copyright © 2015 Jeff Altabef and Erynn Altabef

  Cover Art Copyright © 2015 Mallory Rock

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  ISBN (EPUB Version): 1622533151

  ISBN-13 (EPUB Version): 978-1-62253-315-2

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  Editor: Whitney Smyth

  Senior Editor: Lane Diamond

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  eBook License Notes:

  You may not use, reproduce or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews, or in accordance with federal Fair Use laws. All rights are reserved.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

  FREE GIFT

  Thank you for picking up your copy of Brink of Dawn. We hope it gets your heart racing! As a thank you for that, and for joining Jeff Altabef’s newsletter list, we’d like to offer you a free gift.

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  Jeff has written a short story, Enemies of the State, which is a companion piece featuring some of the memorable characters—and all the excitement—of Jeff’s suspense thriller Shatter Point.

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  You’ll receive this story by email when you sign up at FREE GIFT.

  Other Books by Jeff Altabef

  CHOSEN

  Book 1: Wind Catcher

  Book 2: Brink of Dawn

  Book 3: Scorched Souls

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  SHATTER POINT

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  RED DEATH

  Book 1: Red Death

  Book 2: The Ghost King (Releases Fall of 2017)

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  www.JeffAltabef.com

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  What Others Are Saying about Jeff Altabef’s Books:

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  WIND CATCHER:

  “This is an enjoyable read for all ages that goes by as fast as the authors can unspool it.”—Kirkus Reviews

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  “Many young adult books revolve around young adult decision-making processes, but the joy and excitement fueling Wind Catcher is that Juliet’s search for truth doesn’t end with its emergence, but with the bigger picture of what she’ll choose to do with it. That’s the heartbeat of a powerful saga that fully immerses readers in all the possible scenarios that can stem from one’s choices in life—and the reason why Wind Catcher stands out from the crowd.”— D. Donovan

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  “Wind Catcher is one of the best thrillers for YA that I have read in some time. ... If I hadn’t had to eat and sleep, I would have read it right through without stopping. It is just that good!”— S. Price “Suze”

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  “What an amazingly unique story!! I can honestly say I have never read anything like it! I loved the strong Native American themes running through it as well as the deep plunge into the rich culture then and now. This story seemed to quench my thirst for knowledge of the more supernatural aspect to the Native American history and storytelling and I loved the creativity of the authors. Even though this is, in essence, a young adult book, I was literally kept at the edge of my seat while reading. The plot has some very intense situations as well as mature threads running throughout the story. I love that our authors see our “young adult” crowd as more than older kids; they see them as very intelligent and can handle the more mature themes including murder and secret societies. And come on, who doesn’t love secret societies?”— Amy @ Read to My Heart’s Content

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  SHATTER POINT:

  “An original gripping, saga. From genetic manipulation and twists of fate to cold-blooded murder, scenarios change with a snap but succeed in bringing readers along for what evolves into a wild ride of not just murder and mayhem, but social inspection.” Donovan, eBook Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

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  “The book combines my favorite aspects of my favorite authors into one. James Patterson – the master of the psycho killer who kidnaps girls, Patricia Cornwell – scientific thriller, and Dean Koontz – really spooky plots.” – Kat Biggie, No Holding Back

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  “An amazing read.... This is one of those books that no reader will be able to part with until they reach the end, I guarantee it.” Reynolds, Readers’ Favorite

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  “The plot immediately exploded a cast of intricate characters, an evolving plot that you don’t know where it’s going to take you from one chapter to the next. Every time a protagonist emerges a stronger character and story is unleashed and the result is an intriguing book that I just loved.” – Escapology Book of the Month for July 2015

  BONUS CONTENT

  We offer you a Special Sneak Preview at the end of this book.

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  SCORCHED SOULS

  (Chosen – Book 3)

  Click HERE to preview the First 3 Chapters of the next book in this series now.

  Dedication:

  For Karen Altabef, who provides us with inspiration on a daily basis, and the Covenant House and all those who help homeless youth.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  FREE GIFT

  Other Books by Jeff Altabef

  BONUS CONTENT

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  What’s Next?

  SPECIAL SNEAK PREVIEW: Scorched Souls (Chosen – Book 3)

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  More from Jeff Altabef

  More from Evolved Publishing

  “You don’t have to do this, Jules.” Troy cocks his head to the side a little, the way he does when he’s worried about me.

  The warm expression in his eyes melts my heart. What would I do without him?

  He’s always looking out for m
e. I used to get into fights, but even when they were my fault, he’d always stand up for me. Now I need him more then ever. The fate of the world is at stake, and he’s still here beside me, standing up for me. He’ll die to protect me if he has to, but I don’t need him to protect me anymore. I need him close, to wrap his friendship around me like a blanket, to connect, to feel human.

  Lately I’ve had a hard time feeling human without him.

  “When was the last time I did something I didn’t want?” I smirk, but my words ring hollow, untrue—at least for me. I’m always stuck doing chores for other people, and now there’s an entire destiny to fulfill that’s been thrust upon me. I’d rather be normal and have nothing to do with this future, but we don’t get a chance to pick our destiny. At least I didn’t.

  “What’s your mom going to say when she finds out?”

  “Since when are you worried about my mom? You’ve been getting me in trouble since we were in kindergarten. Your name has been etched at the top of her Undesirable List since we were six. I’ve seen it. She keeps it posted on the refrigerator.”

  Troy arches his eyebrows. “Hey, your mom loves me! I’m the other child she’s never had.”

  “Are you serious?” I shoot him a half smile so he knows I’m joking.

  Everybody loves Troy. Still, he’s not on the college track, and Mom wants me to go to one of the best colleges so I can make tons of money and become a big shot lawyer, like her or some other Master of the Universe that has no fun and works way too hard.

  “Mom’s back home and we’re here. She doesn’t get a vote.”

  He frowns. “It’s just that... once you do this, you can’t undo it. It’s forever.”

  “Really. That’s the point.” I shove him lightly in the chest. I’m old enough to make up my own mind, but he’s just trying to protect me, so I can’t get too angry with him.

  “What are your classmates at that fancy private school going to think when they find out?”

  I pause for a second and look at him. I mean, really look at him, and peer past the handsome exterior: the almond-colored eyes, the chiseled chin, and the long raven hair that falls past his broad shoulders in a tight braid.

  Beyond his confident shell, deep in his soul, he harbors doubts that trouble him—doubts he’ll never share with me. He’s making believe life will go back to normal once I fulfill this destiny—if I fulfill this destiny—but that’s not possible. Normal has become a bad joke, but I won’t shatter the illusion for him. He needs to sort events into a pattern he understands and imagine a time when life returns to what it was for us. It’s how he’s coping with the situation.

  I need to be strong for him. I can’t weaken his defenses, even if fears riddle my mind at every turn.

  I straighten my back. “You know I don’t care about what they think at Bartens. I want to do this. I need to do it.” The wind kicks up, and the cool night air sweeps against my skin, leaving an army of goose bumps in its wake.

  The almost full moon lights the cloudless sky. We inch toward the store and hesitate at the door. A red neon sign reads Lost Souls Tattoos in the front window. I take a deep breath and shove the door open, and a bell jingles above us.

  No one’s in sight. Pictures of various tattoos line the walls of the small rectangular shop. Toward the front left is a glass case with a cash register on top, and farther in the back are a massage table, some bright lights, and a chair with wheels on the legs.

  A woman strolls from a back room. She’s in her twenties, gaunt with sharp features, smoky gray eyes, short hair, one nose ring, and small hoops that circle the edges of her ears. She holds a half-eaten wrap as she ambles toward us. “What do you guys want?”

  She wears a loose gray T-shirt and tight jeans. Brightly colored tats cover her left arm, mostly eagles and hawks, and on the left side of her neck is a teardrop the size of my palm.

  “I want a tattoo,” I say casually, as if ordering a cheeseburger at McDonalds.

  She points to a sign taped on the cash register. “You’ve got to be eighteen for me to give you a tattoo, and there’s no way you’re eighteen.”

  I’m almost sixteen. In the right light I could pass for eighteen, but she probably has a lot of experience with underage teenagers asking for tattoos. Still, I feel a lot older than eighteen and that should count for something.

  “No one else is here. It’s late and this tattoo is really important to me.” My voice whines slightly at the end. I wish it hadn’t.

  “Why?” She crosses her arms against her chest and arches her eyebrows upward. Two gold rings, one in each eyebrow, bob up and down.

  An invisible door creaks open. I’ll only get one chance to persuade her to give me the ink.

  Her teardrop tattoo stands out and must be important. Grief dulls the sparkle in her eyes and shows in the muscles that tighten her jaw. She’ll relate to my story, if it’s truthful.

  “I need to remember someone who died recently. He was really important to me.”

  “Who?”

  “My grandfather. I called him Sicheii, and he raised me like a father. He died to protect me.” Tears moisten my eyes. The tears are real, as Sicheii’s death is a fresh wound. People tell me the pain will get better with time, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. They mean well, but this hurt will always be fresh. He’ll always be gone, and it’s my fault.

  The woman’s face softens. “Just for the sake of discussion, what’re you looking for?”

  Troy drops the satchel looped over his shoulder, smiles, lifts his T-shirt, and reveals his well-muscled chest and copper skin. Across his heart is a blue tat of two twisted arrows in a circle. Each arrow features different feathers and arrowheads.

  The woman glides toward him and examines the ink on his chest. It’s beautiful in its simplicity and symmetry. She clearly admires it and perhaps wouldn’t mind trying to copy it.

  Her eyes widen as she lingers over the details. “What does it mean?”

  I hesitate. What am I going to tell her, the truth? That the symbol represents the ancient Order of the Twisted Arrows? Or that my grandfather unwittingly injected me at birth with alien DNA, which has changed me forever? Or that I’m one of four Chosen thrust into a battle for our world against a powerful enemy called from a different planet?

  None of those explanations will get me a tattoo. She’d probably chase us from the store.

  I settle for something bland. “It represents an old society he belonged to. It meant everything to him. It was kind of a... club.”

  At least it’s not a lie. She’s probably used to people lying to her and would catch a whiff of one right away.

  She traces the circle with her finger. “Is it some weird Native American thing?”

  “You could say that.” Native Americans use tattoos generally to identify with certain tribes or to honor their animal spirit guide. I’m half Native American on my mom’s side, and Sicheii was her father. I have long black hair, an oval face, coffee-colored eyes that are round but not quite round enough to be beautiful, and a long, pointy nose I inherited from my Irish father. I look Native American except for the ghastly nose.

  The tattoo artist leaves Troy and slides in front of me. She stands close, no more than a foot away, and traces of vegetable wrap linger on her breath. I’m taller than the average person and stand at least three inches higher than she does.

  She studies my face for a long moment; perhaps she’s trying to see if I’m serious. “What’s your name?”

  “Juliet Wildfire Stone.” I never used to tell people my middle name. It embarrassed me. Now I realize it’s who I am, part of my identity.

  “Wildfire, huh? I can see that. Where do you want the tattoo?”

  I roll up the right sleeve of my T-shirt. “My shoulder would be great.”

  She nods. “It’ll cost you two hundred cash, and you can’t tell anyone you got it here.”

  “Done.” I hand her four fifty-dollar bills.

  She locks the
door to the shop, guides me to the table in the back, and places a pillow on one end. “You want it the same color?”

  I jump on the table. “Yep.”

  She gestures for Troy to come close. “Keep your shirt up. I want to get it just right.”

  Two hours later, she wipes my arm with a towel. “That’s so weird.”

  “What’s wrong?” My heart jumps. Did she just totally mess up my arm and leave me with some ugly circle thing?

  Troy’s smiling, so how bad of a job could she have done?

  “Usually it takes a couple weeks for the tat to heal. It always bleeds a little or gets puffy, but your arm already looks perfect, as if the ink had been on it forever.”

  She hands me a mirror, and I smile. My tattoo is exactly the same as Troy’s. Exactly the same as Sicheii’s had been.

  I shrug and hop from the table. “I’ve always been a fast healer.”

  My DNA’s been changed, so my body can regenerate itself almost instantly. I didn’t know that before. It’s just another one of my abilities, as Sicheii would say. I’ve started to think of them as aberrations.

  I have five so far: I can hear other people’s thoughts and read their emotions; I can possess animals for a short period of time; I have increased strength and speed; can move things with my mind; and heal instantly. There will probably be more, but they scare me. With each new one, I become less human.

  “We’d better head out.”

  I step toward the door, and she grabs my wrist. “Wait. I want to take a picture of the ink for the wall.”

  “You can’t.” I yank my arm away from her.

  “I won’t take your face. Just the ink.”

  “Tough.” She scowls at me, but I ignore her and march outside.

  When we leave the store a sharp pain stabs through my head, as though someone has taken an axe to my skull and cleaved it in two. A wild rage burns through me, and all of a sudden I’m inside a villa next to a piano.

  Breath catches in my throat, all the strength saps from my body, and I plummet to the ground.