CHAPTER 2
"So who exactly is this mystery girl you're trying to make me jealous of?" I asked him.
We were in his dark limo as Certus drove us through the light-lit streets of the night. Simon sat opposite me with his legs crossed and his hands folded into his lap. His red eyes were particularly bright in the dim light.
"A rather talented mechanic," he told me. "She has in the past furnished me with vehicles made to my specifications."
I arched an eyebrow. "She's not a vampire like you, is she?"
He chuckled. "No, she is very much human, though I could change that if you wished."
I leaned back against my seat and crossed my arms as I glared at him. "Don't you learn from your mistakes?"
His red eyes swept over me and a predatory glint slipped into their depths. "You were not a mistake." I blushed and turned my face away. He continued to speak. "Besides, you were not my first. Certus has that honor."
My eyes flickered back to him. "Is that why he doesn't like me much?"
"Perhaps," Simon replied.
I sighed and my shoulders drooped. "So why are we seeing this mechanic girl of yours? Tired of the limo?"
He shook his head. "On the contrary. I wish to purchase a new vehicle from her."
I snorted. "I guess you haven't filled the entire first floor of the penthouse garage."
He chuckled. "Perhaps I have, but this is for a rather special occasion. I wish to see if she can supply us with a vehicle which would be a match for an armored truck and escort vehicles."
I whipped my head to him and blinked. "Are you serious?"
He bowed his head. "Quite serious. If we cannot separate dear Midus from his jewels at the point of deposit then we must intercept the transport on the way."
My mouth dropped open. "You want to attack a convoy of trucks to get at some rocks?"
"There are rather more than a few precious stones, but yes, that is the gist of it," he concurred.
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm out. I might not have much time left as a human, but I'd like some time left."
He chuckled. "Would it sooth you if I guaranteed more personal involvement in this endeavor?"
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.