Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Drift
Renegades Saga Book Two
E.M. Whittaker
DRIFT
The Renegades Saga - Book Two
Copyright © 2017 by E.M. Whittaker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5411-9155-6
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental or used in the form of parody.
For more information or to contact the author, please visit http://www.emwhittaker.com.
Cover art and page break images designed by Holly Heisey at http://hollyheiseydesigns.com.
Editing and proofreading by Shay VanZwoll at http://evproofreading.com.
Special thanks go out to my awesome editors and team who helped me make this book.
Secondly, this book goes out to my grandfather and for everyone who pushed me and believed.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Author’s Note
Glossary
Spanish Glossary
Also by E.M. Whittaker
Preview: BREAK
Chapter One
Keith Travis hated chasing vehicles through the dark streets of Charm City. The bright lights distracted him, and Travis’s concern grew at the silver Stingray’s erratic speed. He slammed the accelerator and glanced at the speedometer, capped at 100 miles per hour.
Mye needs to work with me on driving. Karyn Greene emulates her style.
The silver Stingray almost eluded him. Travis heard the Focus strain to keep up its momentum. He grabbed the automatic gearshift and thrust down, hoping to go faster. The agent longed for his Corvette and cursed when he remembered Richter had confiscated the vehicle to make modifications.
“Don’t stop!” Travis heard his partner yell. “Greene’s getting away!”
“Stop screaming, Peters!” Travis snapped, gritting his teeth. “The Focus is too slow! Hold on!”
Headlights veered to his right and Travis whipped around the corner to follow the Stingray through a red light. Travis’s breath was tense as he held it, narrowly missing the oncoming traffic. His heartbeat raced, then fluttered when he locked his gaze onto the Stingray.
Once he redirected his focus, Travis blocked out Peters’s complaints, determined to catch up to Karyn Greene.
Excitement took over and Travis understood why Mye loved street racing.
Travis’s body trembled as his adrenaline spiked, and the sounds from the opened window sharpened. The engine seemed almost attuned to his thoughts. The Focus moved in tandem with Travis’s steering and he followed Karyn’s Stingray to an abandoned gas station.
What is Greene doing? Doesn’t she realize we can impound her Stingray and arrest her?
Travis checked his mirrors for other cars before slamming the brakes and fighting back nausea. Once he secured the parking brake, Travis barreled out of the driver’s seat. As he slammed the door, he caught Peters’s complaints, snorting when the specialist pitched forward and shielded the black laptop.
I wish I chased Mye’s vehicle, but silver is not her color, Travis thought, spotting the dents and scrapes in the Stingray’s body. She’d have a coronary. I’m glad Mye’s not here.
The driver’s side door opened and a short blonde-haired woman emerged, curling her lip as she glared with chilling blue eyes.
“Karyn Greene?” Travis asked.
She parted her bangs and remained silent, groaning when some offending strands returned to block her vision.
“I’m with the—”
“I don’t give a shit where you’re from,” she snapped. “I filled up Speedy yesterday, and you chased me around the goddamn city. I just got paid today and one third of my check went into his tank.”
Jesus, not another one. I’m still not used to Mye’s obsession with her Ferrari. At least Mye’s name fits her car. Faster than a bullet and more upgrades than I can count.
He remembered Aviere Mye’s jubilation over the older Ferrari and shook his head. Despite its older model, Travis knew Aviere sunk thousands of dollars into keeping the vehicle race worthy. Compared to the Stingray’s beaten frame, Travis credited Aviere for her tenacity and dedication at the underground sport, gaining a newfound respect for Aviere’s racing sponsorship.
Mye would have a conniption seeing this Stingray. All the dings and scratches—she’d go insane.
Travis focused on Karyn, studying her profile while she jammed her greasy hands into ratty jean pockets.
Bob haircut hiding hardened navy blue eyes—tank top accenting her large chest and greasy jeans—not much to go on.
He glanced inside the Stingray, catching a matching navy blue mechanic’s jacket on the passenger seat. Grease stains covered her nametag and the bottom portion of the denim material. Travis blinked, doing a double take at the black and white kitty seat covers adorning both the driver and passenger seats.
Hell of a combination. The greasy clothes indicate she’s a mechanic. But it doesn’t explain the Stingray’s condition if Greene fixes vehicles.
An orange flash captured Travis’s attention before the gas pump beeped. The agent noticed the confident smirk and cold eyes as Karyn reached for the gas pump. “Crappy car you got, detective.”
“Aren’t you worried about police impounding your car or arresting you?”
“You haven’t,” Karyn said, drawling her last word in annoyance. “So, tell me what you want, detective. I’m meeting someone soon.”
“Answer some questions and I’ll overlook the Stingray, Miss Greene.”
Once the gas started pumping, Karyn rested a hand against her hip and scrutinized him. “You’re the guy spying on the Vipers, aren’t you?”
Travis furrowed his eyebrows and held his chin in thought, recalling the name from past conversations. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place where, Miss Greene.”
“Their leader’s a snooty bitch who drives a Ferrari and carries a superiority complex. Thinks she knows everything and everyone kisses her ass. I’ve seen you hanging around her brothers once in a while, detective.” Karyn leaned against her car, arms splayed against the dingy frame. “You rub people wrong. The gangs don’t like outsiders invading our sport, you know?”
Travis snorted, agreeing with Karyn’s description of Aviere Mye. Thinking of his partner and the trouble she brought to his life made his heart flutter and his stomach kno
t with dread.
I forgot she’s coming back tomorrow off medical leave. It’s back to bodyguard duty, where Mye’s nothing but trouble.
“Besides, why should I tell you anything?” Karyn continued, combing her sweaty fingers through her hair. “Aviere was supposed to meet with me, but never showed up.”
Travis pointed to the Stingray. “You expect Mye to consider you with a banged-up Stingray, Miss Greene?”
“Not everyone can afford a fancy set of wheels by breaking the law. Now, you on her side or not?”
What is Greene ranting about? Travis asked himself, his hazel eyes dulling as Karyn fidgeted with objects on the gas pump. I’m stuck with Mye. Freaking foot fungus, I swear.
Travis gazed at Karyn again and straightened when a yellow aura revealed itself, crackling with darkness. He lowered his head while Karyn turned away and tilted his head, eyes widening at the aura surrounding her hand. Scant dark flakes flickered in the golden hue, intertwining together at random intervals.
I heard about electric mages, but Greene’s the first I’ve witnessed. Hmm.
“Miss Greene, I’m not on anyone’s side,” Travis answered, phrasing his words carefully. “Just answer a few questions and you can leave.”
“Fine, but only five minutes. I’m waiting for Aviere.”
“I’m investigating a man linked to the Zodiac Cartel. One source referred me to you, Miss Greene.”
Travis expected surprise, and a pleased expression passed over his face when Karyn held a fist to her chest and pressed into the concrete railing supporting the gas pump. He jutted his chin out before raising an eyebrow.
“You seem familiar with their name.”
“I haven’t heard the Zodiac Cartel in years, detective. Left them behind when I lost important people.”
“But you know of them.”
Electricity sparked against tanned flesh. “Yeah.”
“Tell me about Reginald Rodriguez, Miss Greene.”
Icy-blue eyes widened before Karyn covered her mouth, singeing part of her cheek as magic crackled from her fingers. “Why? Nothing good will—”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Miss Greene. But stop using magic before we’re both discovered.”
The gas pump clicked and Karyn’s lips quivered. “Reggie’s dead. He died five years ago. When you mentioned the Zodiac Cartel, I thought you meant his friend—the one running the cartel. He stopped, though. So, I hear, anyway.”
Golden energy dissipated as Karyn grabbed the olive-green pump nozzle. Shaky hands dropped it against the asphalt before sniffling. Before Karyn knelt down, Travis retrieved the nozzle and brushed against her bare hand as he handed it to her. Sympathetic eyes met with mournful ones, locking together for mere seconds.
Travis’s eyes widened when a cinematic image popped inside his head.
I’ve never done this before! When did my powers grow?
The question remained unanswered while the tragic scene played before him. The large, tan Latino reminded him of his associate, Jemina Rodriguez. He didn’t picture Reginald in a cartel with his neat, military styled haircut and soulful chocolate orbs.
Then Travis remembered Mye, who had deceived him at their first meeting.
The scene unfolded and Travis witnessed Reginald’s final moments in a tragic car accident. His heart panged, hearing Reginald whisper gentle words to the blonde attempting to pull his crushed body out of the vehicle. Karyn’s anguished cries and bloody fingers invoked another image in the agent’s memory—one he harbored inside his heart.
Lyssa, I haven’t forgotten you, sweetheart. I’ll use Mye and get your killer.
Travis returned to the present when Karyn’s soft movements caught his eye. “Is something wrong, detective?”
Travis cleared his throat. “You mentioned someone else.”
“Ah, yeah. People liked Reggie.” She set the nozzle in its spot and sealed the Stingray’s gas tank. “Reggie drew people to him, you know?” A moment later, Karyn’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Hard to believe it’s been five years. It’s like it happened yesterday, really. But if the cartel is active again—”
“Yes. That’s why I’m asking who your other contact is,” Travis pressed. “Several high-profile killings revealed the victims died by homemade concoctions. While I’m aware of Aviere’s profession—”
“He’s at it again.” Disgust crossed Karyn’s face. “His girlfriend said he dropped the cartel, detective. But Limere lies a lot, so who knows. He still smokes marijuana, so he’s not totally drug-free.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Travis said, unable to stop himself. “We’re talking about Dalara, right?”
“Only guy I know with that weird last name. Aviere’s is different.”
Suddenly, I want to break Mye’s leg so she gets another six weeks off work. Investigating the Zodiac Cartel with Mye—
“Detective, you shouldn’t be surprised if you’re in cahoots with Aviere. Limere’s girlfriend is convinced he’s straightened up, but who knows.” Her eyes glanced at the pink kitty watch resting against her inner wrist. “Limere used and sold drugs, so I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me believes he’s innocent, considering Reggie’s death cut him. They were close. If anyone would know the cartel’s activities, it’d be Limere. Some of his contacts remained after his incarceration.”
“I see.” Travis swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “Thank you for your time, Miss Greene.”
The trench-coated agent sighed and headed back to the Focus, trying to gauge Peters’s reaction between reading his lips. He tipped his cowboy hat, grateful for the cool autumn air hitting his flushed face.
Yeah, definitely need to meet with Sanderson about pulling Mye from this case. I’m not stopping her if Peters interferes and tries arresting the poor bastard. Either that or reassigned. This will get nowhere fast.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where to find Limere?” Karyn called.
“I’ll figure it out,” Travis answered, hoping Peters surprised him when he returned to the car.
However, as Travis arrived at the silver Focus, Peters’s darkened scowl caused the knots in Travis’s stomach to churn, adding to the sense of foreboding enshrouding his heart.
One day, Peters’s lack of situational awareness will get him killed.
Travis opened the passenger door, watching Peters clicking away at the laptop. He watched Peters’s serious expression as a website popped on the laptop, struggling to interpret the hyperlink. When Peters pulled the laptop screen down, Travis tilted his head to scan the typed letters in the search box.
Once he spotted his colleague’s name, Travis sighed in exasperation. “You can’t let it go, can you, Peters?”
“I’ll catch the hellcat, Travis,” Peters declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Mye can’t win forever.”
Travis removed the leather cowboy hat and sat in the undercover Ford Focus. “Peters, you realize Mye’s attached to us, right?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“She’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Damn, I enjoyed the quiet, Travis. Work got done without Aviere Mye’s shenanigans every couple of hours.”
Travis snickered, incapable of discrediting Peters’s statement. “Yeah, I know. But Mye’s not connected with the Zodiac Cartel.”
Peters rubbed his hands together before adjusting his blue and white pinstriped tie. “Greene mentioned her brother. Dalara’s violated probation, but the director won’t let us arrest him.” He scratched at his scalp until it turned red. “I don’t understand why and it’s pissing me off.”
“Probably shouldn’t trim your hair so short, Peters.”
“Clean cut’s a good appearance. Should try it sometime.”
Travis peered at his scraggly bangs, seeking to remember the last time he visited the barbershop. “When I’m not working, I’ll consider it.”
“The thought of working with more strange people makes my skin crawl.”
Nice t
o know Peters withheld information. Mye and Peters are so similar sometimes. No wonder they despise each other.
“Handling Mye’s hard enough,” Peters continued, digging into a briefcase between his feet. “Her family’s a different story.” He handed Travis a slim manila folder. “I didn’t give you the file at the office ’cause I needed to finish printing the documents. But skim through it. The Zodiac Cartel is dangerous.”
Emotionless, Travis opened it, flipping through various reports. He skirted the typed material and concentrated on the photographs. The first picture captured Mye’s brother well with his familiar grungy clothing, the black athletic muscle shirt, and stringy brown bangs hiding his eyes. But Travis caught Limere’s hardened expression underneath the front he depicted.
There’s no denying he did time in prison. Mye’s convinced he’s out of drug dealing, but his conniving expression says otherwise.
The picture helped Travis decipher both partners’ perspectives. He couldn’t discredit Peters’s suspicions about Limere, but Travis believed Mye’s explanation regarding her brother. After suspecting him of murder, Limere proved himself, but Travis felt he hid something behind his hardened blue eyes.
“Travis?”
“You could have mentioned Dalara’s involved, Peters.”
“Hmph.”
“Listen—don’t come off and accuse Dalara in front of Mye.”
Peters scoffed as he typed into the laptop. “I’m not sugar coating anything. She isn’t my friend, Travis.”
“You’re not on the field with Mye and you haven’t seen Dalara’s abilities.” The slight preview Travis witnessed when they met made him shiver. “He’s not a moron. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a front like Mye.”