by JC Cassels
“That was awesome!” The kid with the holocam scrambled to his feet and moved a few steps closer, but stopped just out of Blade’s reach.
“You should go to first aid,” Blade said quietly to the boy he’d elbowed in the face. “I don’t think anything is broken, but get it checked before the race starts.”
The boy nodded. The one Blade had used as a shield picked up his helmet and offered it to him.
“Next time you guys want a holo with somebody, just ask,” Blade said, accepting the helmet. He slipped into his public persona, donning his trademark lopsided grin. “It’s impolite to go around grabbing strangers. You never know who’s going to kick your ass over it.”
The three boys stammered incoherent assurances and slipped off into the safety of the line of tents.
Unfortunately, protection from the media didn’t cover exuberant fans within the cortege of other entrants. Shaking his head, Blade continued on his way towards the mess tent. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being followed. A niggling sense of unease hovered just on the fringes of his consciousness, keeping him on edge. The race couldn’t start soon enough for his liking.
Alert to the potential for attack, he reached the mess tent without further incident. Pushing his unease aside, he patiently waited in line for stim tea and a tray filled with greasy proteins and decadent carbohydrates. At a long table near the corner of the tent, Chase nodded over his own meal. Blade eased through the crowd and dropped his tray down beside his brother’s with a loud bang. Chase flinched and started, turning a bleary, bloodshot glare on him.
“Must you?” Chase growled.
Blade set his helmet on the table beside his tray and dropped into the seat next to his brother.
“You look like hell.”
Chase’s only reply was a non-committal grunt.
“What’s wrong? Two Joy Babes too much to handle?”
“Those two are not Joy Babes,” Chase said. “They’re an insatiable force of nature. I’m going to need a week to recover.” His eyes narrowed. “And don’t you make some crack about how you’d have handled it better.”
Blade hid a smile behind his mug. “The thought never occurred to me.”
He drank deeply of the stim tea, savoring its warmth. He reluctantly set the mug aside before he drained it completely and dug into his food. “Have you had a chance to go do a final check yet?”
Chase yawned and shook his head. “I came straight here. I figured I needed to be more alert before I did.”
Blade arched an eyebrow at him. “Then I recommend you go get some more stim tea.”
With pained care, Chase turned to him with a baleful glower. Unimpressed, a slow smile crossed Blade’s face as he continued shoveling food into his mouth, never taking his eyes off his brother. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement.
“I hate you,” Chase growled.
“No you don’t.”
The two stared at each other for a long moment. Blade met his brother’s bad humor with undisguised amusement at his expense.
Finally, Chase shook his head. He pushed away from the table and rose.
“You want a refill?” He pointed to Blade’s mug.
“Yes, please.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Chase took both mugs and headed for the refill station.
Icy tendrils of warning danced along the back of Blade’s neck and down his spine, stealing his amusement. As casually as he could manage, he scanned faces in the crowd of entrants, crew, and hangers on. The dull roar of voices raised in conversation was punctuated by the jangling and rattling plinks and clinks of dining utensils and mugs. Trays scraped across table surfaces. For the most part, no one paid him any attention. Knots of participants huddled together, gesturing, laughing, some had their heads bent close discussing strategy, business, or whatever needed discussing.
In the movement and the chaos and the noise, a still, silent figure in local garb watched him intently. Blade craned his neck for a better look through the shifting crowd. There was something familiar about him. The baggy robes revealed nothing, nor did the elaborate head scarf, wrapped loosely and draped across his face.
A break in the crowd provided Blade with the clearest view yet. His eyes met those of the one watching him. The silent figure started slightly in obvious surprise at being spotted, and backed quickly into the deeper shadows on that side of the tent. Blade set his utensils down and pushed away from the table, rising quickly, intent on cutting off his escape.
A pair of mugs thumped onto the table, spilling stim tea with the sheer force of impact.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Chase’s large hand clapped over his shoulder and spun him around. Though he kept his voice low, his words slurred through his tightly clenched jaw.
“Not now, Chase…” Blade tried to shake off his hand and he turned back to look for his quarry. The figure had disappeared; so had the nagging sense of unease. Whatever threat had been looming was gone for the moment.
“You beat up three kids?” Chase said. “You broke one of ‘em’s nose.”
Still scanning the crowd to assure himself the threat was gone, Blade didn’t look at his brother.
“It wasn’t broken,” he said absently. “I checked.”
Chase sputtered, then drew a deep breath to calm himself.
Satisfied nothing disastrous was imminent, Blade turned his attention to his brother.
“What the hell were you thinking, Dev?”
Chase looked as if he were about to explode. The veins standing out on his forehead and neck were the only variation in color on his bright red face.
“Damn, Chase, get a grip before you give yourself a stroke,” he said.
Chase blinked incredulously at him. His face darkened and the veins stood out even more. He shook with barely controlled anger. “Get a…I’m not… You!”
Nothing like a good surge of adrenaline to wake you up.
Blade shook his head and rested his hand on his brother’s neck, concerned for his health.
He shifted, conveniently breaking Chase’s hold on him. He doubted his brother even noticed.
“Breathe,” Blade said.
Chase took a deep breath, then another to calm himself.
He held up his hand and gulped for air.
When his color had faded to something approaching a more normal hue and the veins had retreated, he met Blade’s stare with a forced smile.
“Imari told me that you attacked three kids outside of Krellar’s tents, and you broke one kid’s nose. Please tell me that’s not true. Tell me that was some other good-looking bastard in Pintubo leathers calling himself Blade Devon.”
“Imari thinks I’m good-looking?”
“DEV!”
Deciding against provoking his brother further, Blade tried to look penitent. Judging from Chase’s expression, he failed miserably.
“Sorry, Chase,” he said. “Two kids grabbed me from behind while the other flashed a holocam at me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t awake yet, I guess. I just reacted out of instinct. You know how I am about being surprised like that. The flash blinded me. I didn’t know they were kids until it was over and they were on the ground.”
“I don’t know which of you is worse, you or Marissa! Both of you picking fights and beating people up and leaving me to clean up after you.” Chase shook his head and glared at him. “You. You’re worse. So far, Marissa hasn’t beaten up on kids.”
“Not that you’re aware of,” Blade pointed out.
Chase growled a warning at him and his color started to rise again. Blade pressed his lips together and wisely refrained from further comment. Chase’s stare slid past Blade’s shoulder and, just as quickly, the color drained from his face.
“Holy crap. They’re awake.”
Blade didn’t have to ask who. He didn’t even have to look. His lips quirked in amusement. Chase tried to turn to leave, but Blade’s grip on his neck tightened, drawing a grimace from him.
“No you don’t,” Blade said. “Sit down. You’re not leaving me alone with them. I’ve got to be able to get on a hovercycle in a few hours.”
To punctuate his statement, he pressed hard on his brother’s shoulders, pushing him down into his chair. Chase reluctantly complied, never taking his eyes off them.
“How could something so pretty be so deadly?”
Blade broke into a grin. If he only knew… Instead, he shook his head. “Quit being so melodramatic.”
“They’re all so beautiful,” Chase said. “Why isn’t Marissa wearing her veil?”
This time, Blade did turn. The dull roar of conversation faded as appreciative males stopped mid-sentence to watch the three women sashay into the chow line. The crowd parted in front of them as rough racers and crew put on their best manners. Here and there, Blade heard murmurs of Kiara. Instead of her veil, Bo had wrapped some sort of wide scarf around her, covering her hair and draped over her shoulders. Gena and Tese left their heads uncovered, but also wore heavy scarves around their shoulders to ward off the chill.
The women nodded their thanks and flirted shamelessly as men fell all over themselves to serve them. By the time Bo and her cousins had selected their meals, a group of men followed behind carrying their trays and mugs. Easily spotting him in the crowd, Bo made her way through the crowd towards him, blithely ignoring the knot of admirers trailing after her and her cousins. One of the bolder ones tried to slip an arm around Bo.
Possessive fury flared from some deep, unknown crevasse inside him. Before he realized it, Blade had started forward but was stopped when Chase grabbed him by the belt and hauled him back.
“Please don’t beat up anybody else today,” Chase said wearily. “The sun isn’t up good yet.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He glanced back to Bo in time to see her slip out of the man’s reach.
“I’m sorry,” she said. With a graceful wave of her hand, she indicated the scarf covering her hair. “This is meant to signify that I’m under contract and not available.”
At his look of disappointment, she smiled. “I know. It’s archaic and a bit pretentious, but it makes my client happy.” She met Blade’s stare with an impish smile.
The man followed her stare and, when he saw Blade, he swallowed hard and immediately pressed her mug into her hand and retreated.
Tese and Gena chose seats across the table from Chase. They waited patiently for their admirers to set their food and drink down before they dismissed them with angelic smiles and coos of gratitude.
Bo met Blade’s glower with a gamine smile as she sipped her stim tea and patiently waited.
“Aren’t you going to invite me to sit?” she asked at last.
“Why aren’t you wearing your veil?”
Her expression didn’t change. “Because it makes eating and drinking difficult and messy.”
She arched a challenging eyebrow at him.
Of course. How stupid of him. He nodded and released the tension that had coiled up in his gut when he’d seen the stir she and her cousins had created.
Remembering the manners she patiently waited for him to use, he relented and stepped closer to her. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled out the chair beside his.
“Won’t you join us?”
She nodded, and with all the grace and dignity of a Sovran, she lowered herself into the chair.
His lips twitched with amusement. He supposed he’d had it coming after the way he’d treated her in the tent earlier. Maker, how he loved these games with her.
He glanced over at Tese and Gena’s trays filled with fruit and cereal. Bo hadn’t chosen anything other than the stim tea.
“You’re not eating?” He resumed his seat.
“Marissa’s stomach is bothering her,” Tese said.
Bo’s eyes narrowed in warning, but Tese blinked innocently at her.
“You look a little pale,” Blade said. He gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” Bo smiled and rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I’m a little nervous is all.”
“You’re nervous?” Chase echoed. “I’m a wreck trying to keep my brother from picking any more fights before the race.”
Bo’s brow furrowed. “Fights?” She turned to Blade, the question hanging between them.
He shrugged and reached for his mug. “Misunderstanding,” he said. “Some kids surprised me this morning.” He drank deeply, hoping to forestall any further questions.
“Kids?” Bo leaned forward. Concern marred her features. “Was anyone hurt?”
Chase nodded and jerked his head towards Blade. “Dev broke one kid’s nose.”
“I didn’t…” He trailed off, shaking his head. Blade set his mug on the table and rose. “Come on, Chase. We’ve got that equipment to check before the race.”
Chase jumped to his feet, a little too eager to escape.
“I’ll come with you,” Bo said.
“No, that’s alright, you stay and…”
Her smile stopped him. “Finish my meal?”
She looked pointedly at the empty table in front of her, then lifted her amber eyes to his once more, amusement shining in their depths.
Damn, but she tied him up in knots.
“I would prefer the fresh air,” she said, setting her mug aside. “The smell of the food in here isn’t doing my stomach any good.”
Realizing it would be not only ungallant but fruitless to argue with her, he sighed and held out his hand. “Come on then,” he said.
Bo placed her hand in his and let him help her to her feet. He glanced around, chafing under the lewd stares directed at her.
“But put your veil on,” he said, more sharply than he’d intended. “I don’t need any more distractions.”
She reached under the scarf she wore over her hair and pulled the gauzy veil down over her face. Once she was satisfied with it, she slipped her arm through his and peered up at him expectantly. Mischief gleamed in her amber eyes.
She knew exactly what she was doing to him.
Muttering a curse, he shook his head and stifled a smile.
He had it coming.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Blade told her cousins.
“Don’t worry about us,” Gena said, batting her eyes at him. “There’s plenty around here to keep us entertained.”
“I’ll bet there is.” Blade grinned. He glanced around the tent then leaned towards Gena. “You see that guy over there? The one in the black and silver leathers with the pet dorn on his shoulder?”
Gena followed his stare and nodded. “I see him.”
“That’s my competition.”
A slow, wicked smile curved her generous mouth. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
Blade winked at her. Without further comment, he gathered up his helmet and straightened. He covered Bo’s hand with his and led her from the tent. Once they were safely outside, Chase sighed loudly.
“You do realize that’s cheating, don’t you?” Chase said.
Bo hugged Blade’s arm. He smiled down at her.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll complain overmuch,” Blade said.
“Hey, you know what?” Chase asked.
“What?”
“I’m awake now.”
Blade grinned. “About damn time.”
CHAPTER FOUR
There is a reason endurance races don’t take place in the civilized Commonwealth. The only challenge in surviving Cormor City on Cormoran is avoiding rush hour. The Catarrh desert was about as extreme as you could get without needing a Self-Contained Environment Sustaining Shield.
As it was, Pintubo Racing had provided Blade with the best and most comfortable gear allowed by the Catarrh Rally rules, and it still wasn’t enough. The regulators in his leathers barely held the extreme temperatures at bay. The filter on his helmet was already clogged with the fine oxidized dust kicked up by his engines. The breathable air inside hi
s helmet was hot and stuffy. His back and shoulders ached from navigating the difficult terrain, and he wasn’t halfway through the first day yet.
Maker help him, he’d never felt so alive.
Blade keyed the holographic map display on the inside of his helmet’s visor.
He’d been steadily climbing the rocky mountain range for the past two hours. He steered around an outcropping of large, orange boulders and adjusted his heading. Ever since he’d left the last checkpoint two and a half hours ago, the niggling sense of imminent danger had been tickling his subconscious.
According to the map, if someone intended to ambush him, Biller Pass up ahead was just the place to start worrying. If he made it through the pass unscathed, there was Flaming Gorge. The narrow, twisting gorge was marked with sheer cliffs and tight squeezes, both of which would force him to reduce speed and lose the time he’d banked taking the ascension at a dangerous rate of speed.
He’d need to reduce speed soon anyway. The altimeter warned that he’d have to slow down and adjust the fuel intakes on his cycle. The thinner atmosphere at these altitudes played havoc with both drivers and machines. He was already feeling the effects of going full-out from sea level to the heights of Biller’s Pass and Flaming Gorge. Most racers adjusted too early at far lower altitudes, much to their detriment. Chase had won his division last year and Blade, who’d served as his brother’s crew chief, had made careful notes over the years of winning practices. If he managed to maintain his schedule, he might just beat Chase’s times.
The only thing the rules of the race allowed him to take with him for survival was water. Blade resisted the urge to reach for his canteen. As arid as the mountain range was, the salt flats beyond the gorge stretched for days. The next checkpoint was several hours’ ride into the flats. The flats were the breaking of many a good racer. He didn’t intend to be one of them.
He checked his chrono and the altimeter then compared them to the map. He was coming up on the last flat spot before Biller Pass. That was the best place to adjust the intakes and maybe try to knock some of the debris out of his air filters, both on his cycle and in his helmet. He eased back on the accelerator, but the cycle’s powerful engines whined and it began to pick up speed.
