Brink of Dawn (A Chosen Novel Book 2)

by Jeff Altabef

  I’m sure he’s never had to go into a dark and dirty place like this before. I can’t blame him. It does look gross.

  “Afraid to get your fancy shoes dirty?” Akari smirks at him.

  “It has to be teeming with rats. Do you know how many diseases rats carry?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and ticks them off with his fingers. “Well, there’s the Plague, Hantavirus, Lasa Fever, Rat Bite Fever—”

  “We have plenty of rats in my fishing village.” Akari elbows him in the side. “Don’t worry, I’ll scare them away for you.”

  Stuart pushes Blake lightly in the back. “You’ll only find domesticated city rats in The Underground. I assure you it’s perfectly safe. Sydney will go first to prove it.”

  She glances at Troy, smiles, and plunges down the hole. For a moment, I imagine closing the cover and locking her down there, but I really don’t want to be that person.

  Akari climbs down after her, then Blake wrinkles his nose before he drops out of sight. Troy’s next, which leaves Stuart, Connor, and me above ground.

  Connor and I exchange a glance. I can tell what he’s thinking: how can we trust Stuart?

  Connor glares at him. “You go down first and then we’ll follow. I’ll roll the bloody cover back in place before I go down.”

  “Good, good. I’m happy to leave that task in your capable hands. Please hurry though.” Stuart disappears down the hole.

  “What do you think that tosser has down there for us? Some type of torture chamber?”

  I smile. “That’s very medieval of you. We’re in New York, so whatever craziness he has in store for us is probably a little more modern. Still, there’s only one way to find out.”

  A series of metal rungs are bolted into the concrete. White light flickers from below and bounces off a slimy film that covers the metal.

  Stuart shouts, his voice echoing in the darkness. “Time’s a-wasting!”

  I take a deep breath and climb into the darkness. Fifty rungs later I reach the bottom where everyone waits for us.

  Connor replaces the manhole cover with a clang and follows.

  We’re in a round concrete chamber barely large enough for us to stand without bumping into each other. Stuart shines a light against a wooden door. Silver letters spell The Underground, and underneath the name is the Inn’s symbol carved into the wood. He shifts the beam to the doorknob, which has one of those locks attached to it where you have to plug in four numbers for the door to open. He presses the button marked 5 four times and pulls the door open.

  Sydney flips a light switch, and overhead lights brighten a large room that resembles an old pub. The floor and walls are made from dark wood; large chunks of plaster have fallen from the ceiling. A stage stands on one end to our right, and a long wooden bar runs the entire length of the left side of the room. Half a dozen chairs, a few tables, and a full-sized refrigerator fill the rest of the room. A layer of dust covers everything.

  “How can there be a pub in the sewer?” Blake looks baffled.

  I can’t blame him. The Underground wasn’t what I had expected either.

  “The sewer? Oh, we’re not in the sewer. That would indeed be messy. No, definitely not the sewer. This space was originally excavated to become a subway station, but that project stalled. When prohibition started, the Order created a speakeasy in its stead.” Stuart chuckles. “I’m told that for a dozen years The Underground was truly the best place under the ground to enjoy oneself.”

  “Prohibition?” asks Akari.

  “During the 1920s it was illegal to make or consume alcoholic beverages in this country. This place was a secret oasis. The manhole cover was the back entrance used only in case of emergencies, or if the police interrupted the party. The main entrance connected to one of the buildings on the street, but that was walled off long ago.” Stuart points to the stage. “Some of the best jazz musicians in the day played here. This place has quite a history. If the walls could talk they’d spill some secrets, but we have other uses for The Underground now. It’s ideal to start your training.”

  Connor swings his legs over the bar and lands gracefully on the other side. “Any booze left?”

  Stuart frowns. “No, and besides we’re not here to imbibe spirits. A nasty habit that is, one you should consider refraining from until we’re finished.”

  “Good luck with him,” says Troy. “He’s got a one-track mind.”

  Connor jumps back over the bar and shoots Troy a nasty stare. “There’s nothing wrong with my mind, mate.”

  The two are about to face off, which would be totally moronic. To break the tension, I quickly ask Stuart, “What are we going to do here?”

  The question works. We’re all focused on him again.

  “Swordplay certainly. Yes, yes, we need practice with the swords. First, push the furniture to the sides of the room so we have space to begin practicing. The swords are the only reliable weapons that can kill the Deltites. Although you’ve been fused with knowledge on how to wield the sword, actual experience will unlock all that knowledge and come in handy. Yes, handy indeed.”

  Akari and I reach for some chairs.

  “Stop!” Stuart raises his hand. “Why use your hands when you can use your minds? Yes? Telekinetic abilities only. Start with the chairs and work your way up to the tables. Practice will strengthen your skills. Skills that might save your life.”

  I’ve only used my telekinetic ability on small things before, so the furniture will be a challenge. I focus on the chair closest to me, and it starts to rock. When I concentrate harder it rises a foot off the ground and flies against the far wall.

  Crash!

  Not what I had intended, but it still makes me smile. Using telekinesis feels a bit like working a robotic hand. I convert the energy around me into the power source. Not accustomed to the sensation yet, I’m not great at controlling my powers.

  One chair slowly scrapes across the ground; sweat beads on Blake’s forehead.

  Another lurches unevenly through the air, and a third flies gracefully, completes a few loops, lands on its legs, and leans against the wall.

  Connor winks at me. It seems stealing drinks at pubs has come in handy for him.

  We gradually work our way to the tables. With practice I increase my control, but not perfectly. I shove a table with too much gusto and a leg snaps off against the far wall. Still, I make progress.

  When the last table bumps against the far wall, I turn to face Stuart.

  He’s made himself comfortable on a stool by the bar, eating cheese and crackers with a full glass of water in his hand.

  Troy and Sydney perch on the bar and let their feet dangle as they watch us. Sydney’s thigh rubs up against Troy’s leg. There’s plenty of room so they don’t have to sit so close.

  I suppress the desire to screech.

  Stuart joins us in the middle of the room. “Not good, not good. Good is definitely not the word I would use to describe your efforts, but it’s a start. You definitely made progress toward the end. Some pieces of furniture still remain intact.”

  “It’s not as easy as it looks,” grumbles Akari.

  “I guess not. Now take out your swords so we can see what we have.” He steps back.

  I remove my sword from my string bag that still hangs from my shoulders. When I grab the hilt, the blade appears. Energy floods through the sword and into my body as I connect to the sword in a way that goes beyond person and weapon. It feeds off of my energy and life force, magnifying my own abilities. The crystal blade pulses with my heartbeats.

  “Yes, yes, that is something,” says Stuart. “What an impressive sight! Four warriors with swords. Yes, yes, this would make any Seeker more than a little nervous, if I say so myself.”

  Each of the other blades shimmers with a faint pulse like mine. Connor swishes his in the air in a giant loop with a confident grin on his face.

  Stuart claps his hands together. “Let’s start the combat. First Blake and Akari. That’s a good plac
e to start, I think. Yes, let’s see what happens. Try not to kill or maim each other. That would be bad.” He turns toward Sydney. “You have the first-aid kit, right?”

  She nods. “It’s around here someplace.”

  “Are you crazy?” Blake’s eyes narrow. “She could kill me with that thing.”

  Stuart tugs on his beard. “Yes, certainly she could. Of course you could kill her also, but that seems unlikely.” His eyes glimmer and look as lethal as any of the blades. “What did you expect? Wooden sticks? No, the Fusion works with your sword, so we practice with the swords.”

  Akari swings her sword in a short, confident arc, her blade held steady, the weapon comfortable in her hand. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  Blake shoots one last desperate look at Stuart.

  He nods and says, “Get started. It’s getting late. Use the knowledge the Fusion gave you. Start slowly and work your way to full speed.”

  Akari faces Blake, bows slightly at her waist and then starts to circle him. She steps forward and takes a slow sideswipe.

  Blake easily deflects it.

  When the blades connect they sound like glass breaking.

  Blake swipes at her and she knocks the blow away.

  They begin to pick up the pace and look more relaxed, and the sound of breaking glass fills the chamber.

  Akari blocks a forward thrust by Blake, twirls and swings her sword by his side, stopping it just before she cuts him. They continue for a few more minutes, but Akari is obviously faster and more agile.

  “Enough!” Stuart shouts, and the two separate. He shakes his head at Blake. “A rope is only as strong as all the fibers used to twist it together. You need to embrace this part of yourself and let the Fusion guide you. Stop fighting your special abilities before it’s too late.”

  He waves at Blake to step back and then points at Connor. “Your turn. You fight with Akari.”

  Connor grins, takes out his phone and presses a button on the screen. Classic rock from The Who blares from the phone and echoes in the chamber. “All right, let’s get it on.” He wastes no time and darts forward with heavy strokes. Utilizing his length and strength, he beats Akari backward.

  She’s more agile, but his height gives him the advantage. She starts to sweat as he presses her toward the wall. She fakes a swing at his left side and spins back to her right, but he anticipates it and the point of his blade beats her to the spot and rips her shirt.

  She scowls and charges, sending a flurry of strokes at him. For a moment her anger and the speed of her attack push him back.

  He quickly regains his footing and confidence, using his strength to knock Akari’s blade to her side, and stops the tip of his by her throat.

  “Better! Next.” Stuart glances at me.

  The sword feels heavy in my hand. The last time I fought with it, Sicheii died and I killed a Seeker. Sweat coats my back. I’m thrown backward in time and can’t help but remember how my blade had ripped into the Seeker’s chest, and how blood bubbled from his mouth as life faded from his eyes.

  Connor snaps me from the memory. “Ready? I’ll try to go easy on you.”

  “Can we change the music?” I smirk at him. “How about some Taylor Swift?”

  “Hey, winner gets to choose.”

  I smile, wave my sword in front, and bend my knees.

  He creeps forward and tries a few lazy sideswipes that I have no problem deflecting. He’s going easy on me to start, so I push forward with a few quick flips of my wrists—nothing too fast, but swift enough that he lumbers to parry them.

  The Fusion starts to work. Even though I’ve only fought with the sword a few times, it feels familiar in my hand and my body knows the proper techniques. It goes on autopilot for a few minutes as I play defense.

  I flash back to my fight with the Seeker a week earlier. He was so much stronger and faster until I used my abilities to enhance my strength and quicken my reflexes, until I used those abilities....

  I step back from Connor and soak in the music and the energy around me. An electrical current zips through my body. Instantly, my arms and legs become as light as feathers and much stronger than before. The blade pulses faster. My other senses sharpen also.

  A small stream of sweat drips down Connor’s cheek.

  I hear his heartbeat, fast and strong.

  The muscles in his right hand tenses, and his eyes flash to my left, telegraphing his next move. He steps to my left.

  I snap my sword out to the side ahead of him, catching him unprepared. My blade clashes hard against his, and he’s left off balance. I spin back to my right and his back is unprotected, but I hesitate and pull back.

  When he turns to face me, he’s grinning. “I’m happy you’re going to be a challenge. I guess I shouldn’t go easy on you anymore.”

  “Bring your A-game. I can handle it.”

  He attacks with a blizzard of strokes that seemingly come at me from all sides and angles.

  He’s tapping into his own enhanced abilities.

  He’s moving faster and his strokes are stronger, but he’s not fast enough.

  I spin in a blur to cover his attacks, and press a few of my own. The sound of shattering glass pounds in my ears and mixes with a guitar riff. I could best him at any moment, but I don’t want to.

  He’s surprisingly graceful for someone so tall and broad. He moves like a dancer, fluid and sure of himself. The violet specks in his eyes glow as his face pinches together in concentration, as he swipes for my legs.

  I leap backward in plenty of time. I don’t want to be stronger or faster than him—I don’t want to be the Alpha—but I have a different gear than he does. It frightens me. I don’t want them to see me as different, so I slow may blade and fall for an obvious feint, leaving my body unprotected.

  He brings the tip of his sword to my chest.

  I lower my hand, and my heart is thumping as air comes in gasps. “I guess... you won.”

  He’s breathing hard also. “More like a tie, but that was fun.”

  The door slams shut and we turn.

  Troy turns the music off. “Stuart and Sydney left. I guess that’s it for tonight.”

  Blake limps to the bar. “Well, my leg still hurts. Where’s that first-aid kit they were talking about?”

  It’s been a long night and I’m happy it’s over. I step toward the door, but a wave of nausea washes over me and my head spins. A Molotov Cocktail explodes in my cranium and bursts into flames. I fall to my knees, the pain intense. I’m worried I’m going to throw-up those bangers and mash all over the place, and then a vision flashes in my mind. It’s fuzzy, a bit out of focus, but it sends a tremor of fear racing through my body.

  I blink and concentrate harder on the image, trying to force it to clear.

  A familiar face begins to form, and I feel a call for help—a terror-filled plea, mouth wide open, eyes bursting, heart exploding.

  It’s Lilly.

  Obligation is a weird concept when it happens between two people who barely know each other. I understand when the bond exists between friends or family, but sometimes it happens between strangers. A man punches a woman in the middle of a busy street, and somebody usually feels obligated to help even if the next punch is likely to be thrown his or her way.

  I feel obligated to help Lilly. Yes, last night was a spur of the moment situation, but we created a bond, which is why I can see her face and feel her terror right now. She’s in mind- numbing, can’t-move, oh-my-God terror, and I have to help her.

  It’s probably not a smart thing, this bond I sense. Do I really need to be responsible for a thirteen-year-old girl when so much else is at stake? Still, I’m more emotional than intelligent. I protect people I care about, and even though I’ve only spent a few minutes with Lilly, I care about her.

  My vision clears and with it goes Lilly’s terror and my pain and nausea.

  Both Troy and Connor hover close to me. Oddly, their faces are etched with the same concerned expression
.

  “Are you all right?” Troy reaches for my arm.

  Heat flushes my face. That’s the second time I’ve gone wonky tonight. Some Alpha I am; maybe I’m the weak fiber in the rope.

  “I’m fine, but I’ve got to stop making a habit out of doing that.” My smile chases away their worried expressions, and then I remember my vision. “Troy, we have a problem. Lilly’s in trouble.”

  “The girl from the other night? She should be at New Beginnings.”

  “She’s scared. Something’s happened to her.”

  Blake limps over. “Well, can someone fill us in? What’s going on and who’s this Lilly person? Why are we worried about her?”

  I explain what happened last night with New Beginnings and how we saved Lilly from the creepy dude at Chelsea Park. I end by telling them about my vision and the connection I’ve formed with her.

  Connor shifts on his feet. “So... you can see into other people’s minds?”

  He’s struggling with the implications of my ability, so I shrug and try to play it cool. “Sometimes I can see a vision. I bet you can too. It only works with a person I’ve made a connection with.”

  I’m not going to tell them that I can read minds. First, their minds are blanks. For some reason I can’t read any of them or Stuart, and second, my gut tells me to keep it quiet. I can’t put my reluctance into words, but being too different from them feels like a bad idea. Even though I know better, I tell myself it’s not a lie—it’s just that no one has asked me about it.

  Akari’s eyes smolder. “So you think this creepy guy has her again?”

  “Could be. All I know is that she’s in trouble.”

  “Let’s call Landon and see if she’s with New Beginnings.” Troy dials Landon’s number on his cell and puts it on speaker.

  Landon answers on the second ring. “Landon here.”

  He sounds wired, as if he’s hoping for good news.

  “It’s Troy.”

  His voice slows. “Are you guys all right?”

  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m calling. We were wondering if the girl from last night is still with you. I think her name is Lilly.”

  Landon pauses, which gives him away. He’s worried about her. “Do you know something?”