by Mac Flynn
I pursed my lips. "Maybe, if I knew more about this 'endeavor.' You told me we need a fast, heavy-duty car to try to what? Sideswipe them and drive away with the goods?"
He shook his head. "Nothing quite so pedestrian."
I snorted. "No, of course not. We're dealing with Simon Cruor, master of the subtle frying-pan-to-the-head approach."
"My contacts have informed me that the convoy intends to take a disused river road to a hidden port along the southeast coast," he explained. "We will attempt to drive the escort vehicles over the cliff and empty the armored truck."
I slapped the front of my face with my palm and groaned. "We're all gonna die." I opened one eye and glared at Simon. "Some of us again."
He smiled. "What is life if not to live it?"
I dropped my hand and frowned. "To live it a long time."
"Do you have such little faith in me?" he wondered.
"I've got something, but it ain't faith. . ." I grumbled.
I glanced out the window at the sweeping city skyline. We were in one of the outer business districts in the north of the metropolis. Nightclubs and national-brand clothing shops lined the streets. People mingled and meandered along the sidewalks and alley openings. I leaned forward and set my hand on the lip of the sill. My eyes were stuck on the myriad of people that surrounded us. Their laughter, their smiles, the pulsing blood in their veins.
Something inside me stirred. I felt my heart thump in my chest and heard its beating. Those people, those humans out there tempted me. They stood their like lambs to slaughter. I needed only to take them into one of those dark alleys and-
"Is something the matter?"
I started back and whipped my head to him. "Wha?"
His eyes studied me. I shrank under the scrutiny. "You appeared to be preoccupied."
My hands shook. I clasped them together and tucked them between my legs. "I'm fine. Just remembering that I didn't make out a will."
He didn't blink. He just kept staring at me. "Is that all?"
I glared at him. "Isn't that enough?"
A sly, crooked smile slipped onto his lips. "If you wish."
I crossed my arms and looked away from him. "It is."
The rest of the car ride was tensely silent. The city streets with its humans slipped away behind us and was replaced by the urban sprawl of the northern neighborhoods. The Cam River wound its way northwestward, and one of its large bends was skirted by a small forest of trees. At the edge of the trees and surrounded on two sides by a lit parking lot was a large circular racetrack and another straight track for drag-racing.
Night reigned over the area, but that didn't stop die-hard fans and drivers. The track was lit up with more lights than a football stadium, and the bleachers that curved around three sides of the track were full of spectators. The parking lot was also full. Loud laughter echoed along the pavement as people mingled and drank. The thick scent of barbecues drifted into the confines of the limo as Certus parked us on the edge of the fun. We stepped out and I was hit with the smells of hickory smoke and beer.
An announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers that circled the top of the grandstands. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next race will begin in ten minutes. Drivers, to your cars!"
"Hey! Dark and gruesome!"
We turned at the voice, and I didn't need to guess who was jogging towards us from the arena. Macon the Mechanic was a woman of thirty-five with short brown hair and a cigarette in one corner of her mouth. Her hair and face were speckled with automotive grease and she wore stained coveralls to cover her worn jeans and dirty t-shirt.
She stopped in front of us and put her hands on her hips. Her keen eyes looked over Simon while her cigarette dangled from her smiling mouth. "Never thought I'd see you in one of these places. You stick out like a sore thumb."
Simon smiled and bowed his head. "It's a pleasure to see you in your best, Miss Macon."
She punched his shoulder. "Stop calling me that. You know it makes me feel old." Her eyes flickered to me and she jerked her head in my direction. "That your other girlfriend."
I choked on spittle. "I'm not his girlfriend at all!"
She laughed and slapped my shoulder. I could feel the marks of her fingers on my arm. "Don't take me too seriously. I was just kidding." She returned her attention to Simon. "Anyway, you were looking for a fast car. We talking a nice little makeover of a classic, or something new and exciting?"
"New and exciting," he told her.
She folded her arms and chewed on her cigarette. "That won't be easy. I told you I just sold you my last custom."
Simon nodded at the stadium. "Then why have us meet here?"
Macon grinned. "Because I'm an alternate mechanic for a team, so I need to be here, at least for tonight. The usual guy's sick, and I owed the owner of the racer a favor. Besides, some of these grease-monkeys modify their cars a little. You might see something you like, and with all the money you've got you might even be able to buy it off them."
"With your pre-approval of the vehicle," he added.
She laughed. "And my pre-payment, of course."
He bowed his head. "Of course."
The loudspeaker crackled again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next race will begin in five minutes. Drivers and spectators, please take your seats."
Macon jerked her head towards the arena. "That's my call to get to the pit. You guys want a ring-side seat or the nose-bleed section in the stands?"
Simon smiled. "We only prefer other people's blood, not our own."
Macon grinned. "Yeah, well, try to take out my competition first, will ya? Now come on before the pit head chews me out."
CHAPTER 3
We followed Macon around the back right side of the arena to the garages. Each garage had a door on the opposite side that led onto the track. We found the garage a mess, and the car and everyone gone.
"Shit. Looks like I'm late. . ." Macon mumbled. She turned to us and jerked her head towards the center of the arena that was ringed by the track. A wooden fence surrounded the mowed weeds. "You can get in there through a gate, or just use your epic jumping skills. Whatever works. Just don't tell anybody who let you in there, and close the garage door when you leave."
Simon bowed his head. "We're grateful."
She waved to us and hurried onto the track. The cars were lined up at the starting line and the crews were positioned at their pits that cut into the center of the arena. Simon led me to the open door and we looked out on the packed stands and revved racers. The man with the checkered flag stood high on his perch above the start-finish line.
I glanced at Simon. His attention lay on the cars. "You really think we're going to find something you like here?"
He shrugged. "We shall see."
We shut the garage door and hurried across the track to the center of the arena. A gate let us inside, and I just shut it when the crowd shouted and the cars roared to life. I turned to the start line in time to watch the two dozen vehicles break from the start. They moved like a flock of birds as each got up to speed for the dozens of laps around the monotonous course.
Simon led us to the far side of the arena where we stood near the railing. The cars zoomed by and their wind whipped at our clothing. I grabbed my hair in one hand and winced, but Simon stood as still as a statue. His red eyes watched the cars fly across the road. He pursed his lips.
I arched an eyebrow. "Don't like what you see?"
"Not particularly," he replied.
I turned to watch the cars pass the start line for the first time, but not for the last. "They look fast to me."
"But they are not strong. None of these machines would survive against one escort vehicle," he pointed out.
I turned back to him. "You know a lot about vehicles?"
A ghost of a smile slipped onto his lips. "You forget I am older than my appearance."
I shrugged. "Not everybody likes cars, and just because you're old doesn't mean you learned all this new technology. I haven't seen you use a
computer yet, either."
He chuckled. "I have spent my time on better things than the internet."
I rolled my eyes. "Spoken like a true old person. Anyway, what exactly are we looking for in a car?"
Simon didn't get a chance to reply. There was an arena access entrance across from us for emergency and maintenance vehicles. A wooden gate made of ply-board blocked the entrance. I noticed the headlights just before the ply-board exploded in a hail of splinters and boards.
Simon leapt in front of me and shielded my body with his. I looked past him at the entrance in time to watch a jet-black car skid onto the track. Its sleek body glistened in the bright lights and its wide wheels left skid marks on the road. The frame reminded me of a cross between a sleek Ferrari and a heavy-built Lamborghini. The plating was thick and the windows were tinted too dark for even my eyes to see into the interior.
The vehicle took a sharp right turn and flew down the road. The crowd in the stands jumped to their feet and erupted into cheers as passed by them. Simon and I watched as the mystery vehicle caught up to the racers and, one-by-one, passed them. It swooped between the racers like they stood still, and in a few seconds was approaching the lead driver. The leader stepped on the pedal and tried to put some distance between him and his new competitor.
The black car revved its engine and overtook the leader. The interloper honked his horn and flew past to take the lead. The crowd screamed and hollered. The pit crews gawked at the shadow that flew past them. Through the windows of the admin booth people scrambled to figure out what happened.
The black car took a whole lap as leader and was gaining on the tail end of the group again when it reached the gaping hole it had created. The vehicle slowed and took a sharp right turn through the entrance and back into the night. The whole episode was over in less than a minute, but the chaos wasn't finished.
The loudspeakers cracked to life. "Drivers, take to your pits while we assess the situation."
The vehicles parked their cars and the drivers jumped out. I didn't need to hear them to know the words they mouthed weren't for family listening. Arena employees hurried to the broken entrance and started the cleanup and assessment process. In the distance came the sounds of police sirens.
Simon wrapped his arm around me and led me away from the cleanup crews. We met Macon halfway across the field. She was shaking her head.
"Now that's a first," she commented. "I've seen guys run out onto the tracks before, but I've never seen somebody charge in here wanting to race."
"Then you have never seen the vehicle make before?" Simon questioned her.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Nope. I've never seen anybody go that fast on the track, either. Whoever was driving that thing is a maniac."
"How fast were they going?" I spoke up.
She shrugged. "Not sure, but the drivers were going almost two hundred, and that guy was taking laps around them."
A sly smile slipped onto Simon's face. I frowned. "You're not seriously thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"
His eyes flickered to me. "Only if you have developed an ability to read my mind."
Macon glanced from Simon to me and back. She pointed her finger at us. "You two don't happen to both be vampires, do you?"
Simon looked away at the ruins of the wooden gate. "That discussion is for another time. I would be interested in meeting this driver with their fascinating vehicle."
Macon folded her arms and shrugged. "Then you're on your own. I have no idea who they are, or where they came from."
He turned to her and his eyes flashed. "You do yourself little credit, Miss Macon. I, however, have faith in your abilities."
Macon frowned. "What're you talking about?"
Simon stepped closer to her so he towered over her small frame. Her eyebrows crashed down, but she shrank beneath his long shadow. His red eyes stared down at her. "I find it highly unlikely that the pre-eminent mechanic in the city is unable to recognize a unique vehicle such as what we witnessed."
Macon turned her face away and closed her eyes. A small smile slipped onto her lips. "Does anything ever get past you?"
Simon returned her smile with one of his own. "On occasion, but this is not one of those occasions. I also question how such a stunning vehicle would happen to come to this particular track on this particularly night."
Macon's shoulders drooped. She opened her eyes and sighed. "Fine." She straightened and turned to face us. Her firm posture had returned. "This is just a guess because I'm not really sure, but I think that might have been my brother in that car."
Simon arched an eyebrow. "Bo?"
Macon frowned. "How do you know about him? I never-" Her eyes narrowed. "I told you to stay out of my head."
I snorted. "Like that'll happen. . ."
"You know it to be your brother," Simon stated rather than asked.
She sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Outside of the people here, he's the only one who knew I'd be at the track tonight." She folded her arms and smirked. "Also, he's enough of a maniac to drive that fast."
Simon smiled. "And where can we find him at this time?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. He told me he got a new employer who was giving him room and board, but he wouldn't say who it was."
"You do have his phone number, do you not?" Simon asked her.
Macon frowned and crossed her arms. "Listen, I know you're an all-powerful vampire and a really good customer for me, but you can't go pushing people around like this. If you're going to want my help than you're at least going to have to say 'please.'"
I snorted and my eyes flickered to Simon's bemused face. "You heard the lady."
He bowed his head to Macon. "My sincerest apologies, Rota. I am accustomed to obedience."
"Then get yourself a dog," she snapped.
His eyes flickered to me. "I have other diversions, but I humbly request that you call your brother and inquire of his whereabouts, or where he might meet us."
Macon grinned and pulled out her phone. "I guess that's a good enough 'please.' Hold on a sec." She dialed a number and held the phone to her ears.
I heard the phone ring twice before a gruff voice answered. "You're Bo's sister, right?"
Macon's grin slipped off her face and she frowned. "Who the hell is this?"
"Don't go looking for him. He broke the rules, and he's forfeited his life for it. He belongs to us now, and going to the cops isn't going to help. Remember what I told you." Click.
Macon pulled the phone from her face and stared with wide eyes at the screen. "What the hell just happened?"
Simon arched an eyebrow. "It appears your brother has displeased his employer."
Macon ground her teeth together and slammed her phone back into her pocket. "Just like that idiot to get himself into a mess like this!" She whipped her head to Simon. "Think you can get him out? I'll make it worth your while with any car I can make."
Simon chuckled and shook his head. "There is only one car I wish to procure, but I would like to ask the use of your brother when the time comes to use it."
She nodded. "He's yours, if you can get him out of this." She gazed at the ground and shook her head. "That idiot's really done it this time. He told me he might get into some trouble, but this-" She ran a hand through her hair and growled. "That damn idiot."
Simon grasped her hand and planted a delicate kiss on the top. "Fear not. We need only the use of your phone and a night, and your brother will be returned to you."
She yanked her hand from his grasp. "None of that gallant stuff from you, dark and gruesome. Just get him back to me." She pulled out her phone and tossed it to him. "And try not to bite him. He's a big enough pain in the neck."
Simon pocketed the phone into his jacket and gave her a crooked grin. "I make no promises."
CHAPTER 4
We parted ways with our new companion and strode down the track to the stands exit. The stands were half empty as most of the fans left for a break
at their barbecues and the concession booths beneath the stands.
I sidled up beside Simon. "You really want that car that bad?"
He didn't look at me when he replied. "And its driver."
I arched an eyebrow. "Why the driver?"
"Vampire reflexes cannot win against a natural ability to judge the abilities of the car and the conditions of the road, and our dear Miss Makon's brother has that unique gift to drive," he told me.
A sly grin slipped onto my lips. "So you're saying this guy's better than you and Certus?"
Simon smiled. "I am saying I would rather he not be working for anyone other than me. That is why we must break off the relationship with his current employer."
"You mean rescue him from his own stupidity?" I guessed.
He bowed his head. "Precisely."
My shoulders drooped and I sighed. "How do we do that? We don't even know where he is."
I glanced at the crowds around us as we entered the parking lot. The normal people mingled and laughed. The topic of most conversations was the mysterious driver. I watched them dine on barbecue, their mouths and chins splattered with red sauce. They wiped their faces with paper towels down to their throats.
My gaze fell on those long, chubby throats. A strange hunger pulsed inside me. I licked my lips. Just a bite. Just a small, itsby-bitsy little-
"Is something the matter?" Simon asked me.
I started from my reverie and whipped my head to Simon. "W-what? N-no, I was just thinking. Anyway, did you answer my question?"
We reached the limo where Certus awaited. Simon stopped close by his servant. "Did you see in the direction the rogue driver left?"
Certus bowed his head. "I did."
"How far could you follow it?"
Certus nodded at one of the adjoining streets. "It traveled three blocks before it turned right and disappeared."
"We shall have to work with that start," Simon commented as he pulled out Makon's phone. He handed the machine to Certus. "Trace the last call and take us to the area, but don't let us be seen. Understood?"
Certus bowed and opened the rear door. "Of course."
Simon slipped inside and I followed. His red eyes shone brightly in the dim light, and I felt a charge of excitement in the air. I pursed my lips. That could only mean trouble.
"You know, these people he works for might not like us coming in to take their car and their driver," I pointed out.