Read Online Predator (Copper Mesa Eagles Book 1) by Roxie Noir, Amelie Hunt - Free Book Online Page A

always liked it, because in it, he was flying high above the earth, looking down at all the people and buildings below, watching the serene curve of the river, seeing the vast landscape that he knew so well from a completely new angle.
    He’d always chalked the dreams up to the stories his mom told him, about her own father who could turn into an eagle and fly off, coming back with flowers for her mother, flowers that didn’t grow for hundreds of miles. There were stories about his grandfather’s father, who Seth had never met, but who his mom said had built a nest high on the mesa where’d he go to watch over the town.
    When Seth asked his mom if she could turn into a bird, she’d just laugh.
    Last night the dream had changed, though. It had barely felt like a dream, and had felt more like reality: the sharpness of the cold air, the scent of the earth rising to meet his nose. For the first time, Seth had been able to see everything on the ground with perfect, crystal clarity, and he’d been able to stretch his feet out, grasping at the air with his toes, until he’d looked to his right to see a long, light brown wing.
    In the dream, he’d wiggled his arm, and the wing had moved.
    Then he’d woken up.
    “Earth to Seth,” Zach was saying, waving a hand in front of Seth’s sandwich, and Seth blinked and looked up.
    “There you are,” Zach said.
    “Sorry.”
    “I think we should check the attic again,” Zach said. “We got all the files down from there, but there’s all these chests and suitcases and bags. It’s probably worth a shot.”
    Seth just nodded, still trying to shake the dream off.
    “Sure,” he said, then took a giant bite of his sandwich.

    The attic was a mess. Seth had only been up there a few times as a kid, but he remembered being amazed by the sheer amount of stuff up there. Stuff that seemed like it hadn’t been touched for a hundred years at least, that probably still bore the fingerprints and perfume of whoever had owned them.
    As an adult, he quickly realized that no one had visited the attic in generations except to shove more stuff up there, and looking around, his heart sank.
    “Where do we start?” breathed Jules.
    “Well, I think newer stuff is by the door,” Seth said. “So we start at the other end, by the far wall.”
    It was as good a guess as any.
    For hours, they plowed through boxes and drawers, going through bags, pulling out delicate old clothes that seemed like they might fall apart at any moment, thick boots with mud still caked on them, and everything imaginable in-between.
    “Our ancestors were packrats,” Zach finally muttered. It was nearly one in the morning, and Seth could tell his brother was tired and starting to get irritable. “This is all just trash.”
    “It’s cool trash,” Jules said, picking up a picture frame. Two kids stared into the camera, their serious faces a little blurry. “Who’s this?”
    Both brothers shook their heads, and the silent work went on.
    After another hour, Zach stood and stretched.
    “I have to go to bed,” he said. “I’m going to fall over up here if I don’t.”
    “Go ahead,” said Seth. “You’ve been up almost twenty-four hours, you deserve it.”
    “Night,” said Zach.
    “Night,” said Jules, watching Seth’s little brother descend the staircase.
    “You should get some sleep too,” Seth told Jules. “You’re probably tired. You could stay here, if you want, there’s a guest bedroom.”
    Technically, it wasn’t a lie, and Seth was more than willing to move all the junk off of the bed in there and sleep in it himself. Jules could have his bed.
    She shook her head, curls bouncing around.
    “I’m actually not really tired,” she said. “And I’m having a great time going through all this old stuff.”
    She pulled something out of a big chest-of-drawers.
    “I mean, look at this box. I think it’s covered in fur ,” Jules said, holding the box carefully with her fingertips, as though it