Fearless (Dominion Trilogy Book #2) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Robin Parrish

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

184 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

The world changed after that terrible day when the sky burned, and now every heart is gripped by fearEarthquakes, fire, disease, and floods pummel the earth, and its citizens watch in horror. But in the darkness there is hope--an anonymous but powerful hero whom the public dubs "Guardian" emerges from the wreckage. He is Grant Borrows, one a chosen few who walk the earth with extraordinary powers. They travel the globe, helping those in deepest peril and determined to uncover the secret behind this world-shattering cataclysm. But when signs of a dangerous ancient prophecy begin coming true, dark questions arise about secrets Grant might still be harboring. The world teeters on the brink.But some refuse to let it fall.They are:Fearless

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 mai 2008
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441205568
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0168€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2007 by Robin Parrish
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan. www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2010
Ebook corrections 6.21.2012, 5.11.2015, 12.18.2020
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-0556-8
Cover design by Brand Navigation
For Mom.
You don’t believe in superheroes, but I know they’re real.
Because you’re mine.
PREVIOUSLY . . .
O N AN ORDINARY DAY , one man steps off the bus and sees . . . himself, standing across the street.
Grant Borrows has been Shifted. He discovers he has a new identity and a Ring of Dominion melded with his finger that gives him extraordinary powers.
And he soon discovers he’s not alone. Others have been Shifted. They are called “Ringwearers” or “Loci,” and each has a special gift.
Morgan remembers everything. Alex can manipulate emotions. They’re joined by Grant’s sister and Daniel Cossick, a guilt-ridden scientist. Brought together, seemingly by chance, these individuals slowly realize they have one aim: Discover the identity behind a secret organization thousands of years old—the Secretum of Six.
The Secretum guards a prophecy of which Grant seems to stand at the middle. He is called “The Bringer”—but the bringer of what?
Pursued at every turn by a ruthless assassin, a corrupt cop, and a sword-wielding warrior with superhuman speed who calls himself “The Thresher,” Grant soon feels he is being manipulated.
He is. The puppet master calls himself “The Keeper,” and he’ll stop at nothing to provoke the Bringer into unleashing his full power, even arranging the murder of the woman closest to Grant.
But Grant does not give in to rage. And together with the sword-wielding Payton with whom he allies, they foil the Keeper’s plans.
Still, all is not well. Loyal scientist Daniel Cossick has killed a man in revenge, and the Secretum’s true aim still remains shrouded.
The world, however, is in need of heroes—and Grant, Alex, and Payton find themselves with no other choice but to become . . .
FEARLESS
CONTENTS
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
DEDICATION
PREVIOUSLY . . .
PROLOGUE
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
INTERREGNUM 1
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
INTERREGNUM 2
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
INTERREGNUM 3
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
BOOKS BY ROBIN PARRISH
BACK AD
PROLOGUE
Two Months Later
Grant Borrows awoke on the ground.
A sharp yelp roused him, and Grant was instantly aware of three things. First, he was flat on his back, staring into the black snout of an imposing bronze horse statue, which sneered down at him from above. Second, the sky behind the statue was a dismal gray while in his periphery he saw the vivid greenery of trees on all sides. Third, what startled him awake was that he was holding someone’s wrist.
Someone’s wrist that didn’t belong.
Rolling his neck to the left, Grant came face-to-face with a boy who couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Bright eyes offset shaggy blond locks, which framed his oval face in a messy sort of way. A faded polo shirt was untucked over a pair of jeans that looked like their best days were long behind them.
“You are him!” the boy exclaimed, eyes as wide with wonder as they were with fear. Grant turned loose of the boy’s wrist and slowly sat up.
What? Where. . . ?
He was in the center of what looked like a very small park, surrounded on all sides by trees, a circumference of parked cars outside of them. Beyond the vehicles, a quadrant of buildings loomed, enclosing the park in a box-like perimeter.
The buildings were very old. Historic, even.
A dark-colored statue of a man riding a horse stood atop a white cement pedestal on his right, opposite the boy.
Grant’s recognition of it was vague. He was sure he’d been here before, and he was quite certain he was still in London.
But how long. . . ?
And why was I asleep out here in the open?
“Who’re you?” Grant rasped, his voice dry, his thoughts spinning in too many directions at once.
Why can’t I remember anything?
His heart rate was increasing with each new possibility that occurred to him.
“Didn’t mean nothing by it, man!” the boy cried, tossing Grant’s wallet back to him. “Just wanted to see if you had a real name, is all.”
But Grant wasn’t looking at the wallet. His eyes were still on the boy’s wrist, which was bright red where Grant’s hand had been.
He lifted one hand and found blood. His other hand was bloody too . . . and there were similarly dried stains scattered across his clothing. . .
Yet he felt no pain.
A chill stopped his pulse.
This blood was not his. And it wasn’t the boy’s, either.
Reflexively, he reached out with his mind and touched the minds of the Loci, checking off his friends, one-by-one. The process was a mere flash, lasting less than a second, and his heart skipped a beat when he felt it.
One of the Loci—one of his friends—was missing from Grant’s internal radar. A single voice from the chorus, gone without a trace. As if there were a hole where that person had once been.
No!!
His eyes stubbornly refused to focus on anything but the blood covering his hands as his heart raced and the grass beneath him seemed to melt away.
For the first time in a long time, icy cold fear gripped the heart of the most powerful man in the world.
The Bringer was afraid.
1
Los Angeles, California Eight Days Earlier
Leeza Martz never knew what hit her.
All of Los Angeles had gone mad, so she couldn’t quite manage any shock that she’d fallen victim to the group insanity. The riots outside were loud, gunfire only blocks away. Fires spread through what seemed like every other building, and screaming came from all directions.
But the sight of her own blood oozing from her forehead . . . that hit a little closer to home.
“It’s okay, baby,” said the monolith of a man holding the pistol. “Just relax. Don’t scream or nothing and I’ll make sure you enjoy the ride as much as I do.”
Leeza’s young, desperate eyes searched for salvation. But the ramshackle apartment building in South Central where this predator had chased her was all but abandoned and practically falling apart as she watched it. She knew better than to let a crazed client chase her into an empty, enclosed space . . . The other girls had warned her, even Shade had given her strict guidelines . . .
You don’t run into a place that makes it easier for the guy to kill you when he’s done with you. . . .
Her auburn locks fell across her heavily made-up face, mingling with the blood and dripping onto an expensive, sequined, black halter top and gold skirt. The copper smell was an incredibly strong sensation—perhaps her only remaining foothold on anything resembling reality.
But then, reality had changed, hadn’t it? All over the world it had changed, but especially here in L.A. . . .
“You scared?” the big man asked as he hunched over her shivering body on the floor.
“Y-yes.”
“That’s real smart,” he replied, burying the gun’s nozzle in her temple. “You should be.”
Leeza began weeping openly just as a soft, calm voice from behind her assailant wondered aloud, “What is it with men and guns?”
The gun spun around dizzyingly fast and was instantly trained on this newcomer, while at the same time Leeza found herself pulled to her feet, choked in a vicious headlock.
Facing them both with an air of tranquil curiosity was a girl not much older than Leeza. She stood relatively short, with wavy brown locks. She wore no makeup. A simple tank top and a well-worn pair of jeans covered a slender frame.
Her appearance couldn’t have been any more different than Leeza’s if she tried. There was no jewelry around her neck, no watch on her wrist, and no shoes on her feet.
“So,” she regarded them, cocking her head to one side, “is this little encounter a free-for-all or do I have to take a number?”
A long silence filled the air. Looting and rioting must still be going on, but in that moment only the building could be heard; the immediate surroundings were deathly silent.
“What?” the burly man finally answered in a bewildered voice.
“I saw what was up,” the plain-dressed girl replied, tossing a fleeting glance at the half-opened fly in his pants, “and was hoping I could get a turn.”
She’s a junkie , Leeza thought.
Please, whoever you are, help me!
The woman’s voice was light and airy, her hands casually clasped behind her back as if the riots, the city collapsing around her, were an everyday occurrence.
The attacker’s demeanor suddenly changed. He loosened his grip on Leeza’s neck and smiled. “Oh yeah, baby. I’ll even let you go first.”