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Chapters (132)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. CHOSEN: LOST BOOK 1
  3. BEGINNINGS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. INFIDEL: LOST BOOK 2
  35. BEGINNINGS
  36. ONE
  37. TWO
  38. THREE
  39. FOUR
  40. FIVE
  41. SIX
  42. SEVEN
  43. EIGHT
  44. NINE
  45. TEN
  46. ELEVEN
  47. TWELVE
  48. THIRTEEN
  49. FOURTEEN
  50. FIFTEEN
  51. SIXTEEN
  52. SEVENTEEN
  53. EIGHTEEN
  54. NINETEEN
  55. TWENTY
  56. TWENTY-ONE
  57. TWENTY-TWO
  58. TWENTY-THREE
  59. TWENTY-FOUR
  60. TWENTY-FIVE
  61. TWENTY-SIX
  62. TWENTY-SEVEN
  63. RENEGADE: LOST BOOK 3
  64. BEGINNINGS
  65. ONE
  66. TWO
  67. THREE
  68. FOUR
  69. FIVE
  70. SIX
  71. SEVEN
  72. EIGHT
  73. NINE
  74. TEN
  75. ELEVEN
  76. TWELVE
  77. THIRTEEN
  78. FOURTEEN
  79. FIFTEEN
  80. SIXTEEN
  81. SEVENTEEN
  82. EIGHTEEN
  83. NINETEEN
  84. TWENTY
  85. TWENTY-ONE
  86. TWENTY-TWO
  87. TWENTY-THREE
  88. TWENTY-FOUR
  89. TWENTY-FIVE
  90. TWENTY-SIX
  91. TWENTY-SEVEN
  92. TWENTY-EIGHT
  93. TWENTY-NINE
  94. THIRTY
  95. THIRTY-ONE
  96. THIRTY-TWO
  97. THIRTY-THREE
  98. THIRTY-FOUR
  99. THIRTY-FIVE
  100. THIRTY-SIX
  101. THIRTY-SEVEN
  102. CHAOS: LOST BOOK 4
  103. BEGINNINGS
  104. ONE
  105. TWO
  106. THREE
  107. FOUR
  108. FIVE
  109. SIX
  110. SEVEN
  111. EIGHT
  112. NINE
  113. TEN
  114. ELEVEN
  115. TWELVE
  116. THIRTEEN
  117. FOURTEEN
  118. FIFTEEN
  119. SIXTEEN
  120. SEVENTEEN
  121. EIGHTEEN
  122. NINETEEN
  123. TWENTY
  124. TWENTY-ONE
  125. TWENTY-TWO
  126. TWENTY-THREE
  127. TWENTY-FOUR
  128. TWENTY-FIVE
  129. TWENTY-SIX
  130. TWENTY-SEVEN
  131. TWENTY-EIGHT
  132. TWENTY-NINE

The man in the jukebox must be next. Surprisingly, he began to sing again, an odd, devious response to the obvious danger his partners were in. Surely he’d heard the loud discharge over his own crooning voice.

And this time, a woman joined in. There were two assassins in the box?

Billos came to one knee, pointed his gun at the jukebox, and pulled the lever four times. Boom, boom, boom, boom! The contraption exploded in a colorful shower of glass. Smoke coiled to the ceiling.

The man’s and woman’s voices caught in their throats. Both dead.

Now Billos was on his feet and running to his left. He leveled the suhupow at the two men bearing the stick-weapons and sent them both reeling back with two blasts. This left only the one behind the counter.

Steve.

Billos whirled and brought his gun to bear on the wide-eyed man, who was just now bringing a large metal weapon with twin tubes up from under the counter. A massive gun.

Boom! Billos sent him flying.

He held the gun steady and turned around, ready for anyone else who wanted a piece of Billos of Southern. But there was no one. His ears rang, his heart pounded, but otherwise he was surrounded by silence.

And six dead bodies, including the two in the jukebox. Dead by Billos.

“What do you make of that?” he muttered, then added, thinking of Marsuvees Black, “Baby.”

A voice reached him from outside the establishment, words he couldn’t make out. Other voices joined in, yelling now.

He’d awoken Paradise.

Let the fight begin.

SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN

COME TO PAPA.”

Darsal had never encountered a Scab who seemed so cocky, but she could see why Papa was sure of himself. He was twice as big as she, had a blade against Karas’s neck, and stood with five of his peers bearing down on one fighter and a child.

If Billos were here, they wouldn’t have hesitated. But Billos had abandoned her, forcing her into this impossible situation.

Why hadn’t Papa just killed Karas and taken up the fight with Darsal?

“Are you going to just stand there, flashing your big brass teeth, or are you going to be a man and kill us?” Darsal asked.

The Scab tilted his head, face bright and brash despite his gray eyes. “Witty are we? Good. This desert could use a lively hostage to ease the boredom.”

“Just kill them as we agreed,” one of the other Scabs said.

Papa shot him a stern glance. “If they resist, we said. This fighter hasn’t touched her sword.” To Darsal: “What brings you so deep into the desert with this child?”

A large Shataiki bat flapped and settled on the rock over his head.

“Him,” Darsal said, looking up.

Papa followed her eyes. Faced her again. “A rock?”

“The Shataiki. You don’t see it?”