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Back The Lost Books Save as PDF
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 door behind the skunk swung wide and filled with a guard. Silvie’s line of sight was mostly blocked by the other prisoner, but she could see over his shoulder enough to know that this guard wasn’t the same one who’d confronted her at the front doors.

She moved closer. “Now you’re talking my language,” she said. Then in a whisper, “Don’t let him stop us! Kiss me . . .”

The rank-smelling man stepped up and snaked his thin arms around her. His lips smothered hers in a thick, wet kiss.

EIGHT

EIGHT

The crowd sat in perfect silence, not daring to disturb the echo of those two words of invitation they longed to hear: I accept.

They would get their fight. And not the twenty-on-one smashing that would be over before it started, but a contest between this unorthodox runt and their Goliath.

Johnis scanned the stadium once again, hoping for an avenue of escape, but only saw doors between the seats up high, and even those were guarded.

The only advantage he might have over the huge warrior who faced him from twenty yards away was speed. One whack from the man’s broadsword and Johnis would go down in a sea of blood. Helmet or not.

He lifted his helmet off his head and tossed it to one side. His opponent began to walk toward him.

The chant began like a hum, then swelled to a roar. “Vigor, Vigor, Vigor, Vigor!”

Clearly they had seen Vigor rip the heads from other prisoners’ shoulders before and wanted to see the sight again. Two weeks earlier the chant from a different crowd in a different world had been in praise of him, the chosen one, who’d turned the Horde back at the Natalga Gap. The sound of it still rang in his ears: Johnis, Johnis, Johnis, Johnis!

“Dear Elyon, help me,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if the shaking at the soles of his feet came from the crowd’s roar or from his own bones, but he didn’t think he’d ever felt quite so desperate as he did now.

It was one thing to face Teeleh, knowing the Roush were there to back you up. But he had no clue what kind of provision existed in the Histories.

“Vigor, Vigor, Vigor, Vigor!”

And then Vigor was lumbering for him, a large sword comfortable in his right hand. Biceps swollen the size of Johnis’s whole head. Thigh muscles rippled like a stallion’s flank. Worse, the man was no longer lumbering but bounding on the balls of his feet, limber and surprisingly quick.