Read Online Predator (Copper Mesa Eagles Book 1) by Roxie Noir, Amelie Hunt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roxie Noir, Amelie Hunt
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might come alive and try to bite her at any moment.
Seth looked at the box, and a thrill passed through him, from his scalp to his toes. He reached one hand out and ran one finger along the top. Jules was right: it was some kind of fur, slightly brittle with age. As he touched it, he could feel a low hum start in his bones, and he snatched his hand back.
Jules frowned. “Is there something sharp?” she asked, touching it with the pads of her own fingers.
Seth shook his head, searching for the words to explain it to Jules: it enthralled and repulsed him, all at once. It had something that he shouldn’t want to see but very much did.
Then he took it from Jules, gently, and the hum returned. Jules looked at him strangely, but Seth still couldn’t explain what was happening.
The box was about a foot wide, two feet long, and shallow. He turned it in his hands and then held it up to the attic’s bare lightbulb, trying to figure out what kind of fur it was.
“The fur is from something small,” Jules said, her voice hushed. “Look, you can see where the seams are,” she told him, tracing one finger around a skin.
Seth looked closer.
“You’re right,” he said. “It looks like... mice, or chipmunks, or something.”
“Why’s there a box covered in mouse fur in your attic?” she asked.
Seth just shook his head. “Beats me,” he said.
The real question is, why does it make me feel so weird, like there’s a magnet inside, but I’m the only one drawn to it?
He and Jules looked at each other over the box, then Seth took a deep breath and opened it.
The box was filled with feathers. They were all a deep brown-gold, ranging from tiny to enormous, with a few almost as long as Seth’s forearm.
“Wow,” breathed Jules. Carefully, she reached in and took one of the long feathers, holding it up delicately and twirling it back and forth between her fingers.
The moment she touched it, a thrill ran down Seth’s back.
“This bird must be enormous,” she said. “Look at this thing.”
“I think it’s an eagle feather,” Seth said. “We’ve got golden eagles around here. They nest up in the sides of the mesa. Sometimes you can see them flying in there. It looks like they’re going to just crash into the side of the cliff, but then they hop onto a nest. It’s pretty cool.”
“That’s what Hiram could turn into, right? Allegedly, I mean.”
And my grandfather, and my great-grandfather...
The dream flashed through Seth’s mind again, the feeling of cold air rushing around him.
“Right,” he said.
Then he tilted the box a little, puzzled at the way that its weight shifted.
“There’s something else in here,” he said.
Jules put the feather back, then pushed her hand underneath the layer of feathers and dug around a little, carefully. Then she pulled out an ugly, oblong stone along the length of her hand. It was rough and pebbled, the same brownish-red of the sandstone everywhere. One end was slightly concave and shiny, almost burnt-looking.
It called to Seth with a voice he couldn’t understand, but one that growled at him.
“Is that a crystal or something?” Seth asked. He was starting to get a little shaken by all this weird stuff, but even more shaken by his physical reaction to it.
Am I entering some sort of sleep-deprivation psychosis? he wondered. I didn’t sleep great last night, but it seems early for that.
“It’s fulgurite,” Jules said, turning it over in her hand. “This is what happens when lightning strikes rock. It superheats it really fast and then cools. This stuff in the middle is more or less impure glass.”
She held it up for Seth to look at, still examining it herself. He felt like he was looking down a deep hole, or like he was on a great height, looking down, and he closed his eyes.
“This one looks like sandstone,” she said. “Which makes sense, this part of Utah is all sandstone.”
“It’s from the mesa,” he said suddenly. He didn’t know
Seth looked at the box, and a thrill passed through him, from his scalp to his toes. He reached one hand out and ran one finger along the top. Jules was right: it was some kind of fur, slightly brittle with age. As he touched it, he could feel a low hum start in his bones, and he snatched his hand back.
Jules frowned. “Is there something sharp?” she asked, touching it with the pads of her own fingers.
Seth shook his head, searching for the words to explain it to Jules: it enthralled and repulsed him, all at once. It had something that he shouldn’t want to see but very much did.
Then he took it from Jules, gently, and the hum returned. Jules looked at him strangely, but Seth still couldn’t explain what was happening.
The box was about a foot wide, two feet long, and shallow. He turned it in his hands and then held it up to the attic’s bare lightbulb, trying to figure out what kind of fur it was.
“The fur is from something small,” Jules said, her voice hushed. “Look, you can see where the seams are,” she told him, tracing one finger around a skin.
Seth looked closer.
“You’re right,” he said. “It looks like... mice, or chipmunks, or something.”
“Why’s there a box covered in mouse fur in your attic?” she asked.
Seth just shook his head. “Beats me,” he said.
The real question is, why does it make me feel so weird, like there’s a magnet inside, but I’m the only one drawn to it?
He and Jules looked at each other over the box, then Seth took a deep breath and opened it.
The box was filled with feathers. They were all a deep brown-gold, ranging from tiny to enormous, with a few almost as long as Seth’s forearm.
“Wow,” breathed Jules. Carefully, she reached in and took one of the long feathers, holding it up delicately and twirling it back and forth between her fingers.
The moment she touched it, a thrill ran down Seth’s back.
“This bird must be enormous,” she said. “Look at this thing.”
“I think it’s an eagle feather,” Seth said. “We’ve got golden eagles around here. They nest up in the sides of the mesa. Sometimes you can see them flying in there. It looks like they’re going to just crash into the side of the cliff, but then they hop onto a nest. It’s pretty cool.”
“That’s what Hiram could turn into, right? Allegedly, I mean.”
And my grandfather, and my great-grandfather...
The dream flashed through Seth’s mind again, the feeling of cold air rushing around him.
“Right,” he said.
Then he tilted the box a little, puzzled at the way that its weight shifted.
“There’s something else in here,” he said.
Jules put the feather back, then pushed her hand underneath the layer of feathers and dug around a little, carefully. Then she pulled out an ugly, oblong stone along the length of her hand. It was rough and pebbled, the same brownish-red of the sandstone everywhere. One end was slightly concave and shiny, almost burnt-looking.
It called to Seth with a voice he couldn’t understand, but one that growled at him.
“Is that a crystal or something?” Seth asked. He was starting to get a little shaken by all this weird stuff, but even more shaken by his physical reaction to it.
Am I entering some sort of sleep-deprivation psychosis? he wondered. I didn’t sleep great last night, but it seems early for that.
“It’s fulgurite,” Jules said, turning it over in her hand. “This is what happens when lightning strikes rock. It superheats it really fast and then cools. This stuff in the middle is more or less impure glass.”
She held it up for Seth to look at, still examining it herself. He felt like he was looking down a deep hole, or like he was on a great height, looking down, and he closed his eyes.
“This one looks like sandstone,” she said. “Which makes sense, this part of Utah is all sandstone.”
“It’s from the mesa,” he said suddenly. He didn’t know
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