Page 4 of Hyperspeed
The paddock was even busier than yesterday. Practice sessions always drew in a crowd and a tonne of press, but qualifying was where the race began. Especially the first one.
Racers’ positions on the starting grid would set the tone for the rest of the season. As the reigning champion, I was determined to follow in last year’s footsteps.
Once again, I disembarked the shuttle with Jax and Ailor, but today the press swarmed us.
“Kai, are you excited for today’s race?”
“Kai, are you feeling pressure after three consecutive championships?”
“Kai, what are your thoughts on an Iskari in the Astro Space League?”
The last question made me pause in place. Jax, Ailor, and the herd of press stopped walking with me. The news had obviously broken regarding Zenith’s recent addition. Maybe it came from the team, or a determined journalist had spotted him during his solo practice session.
Either way, I was just as curious as the masses were to see the mysterious Revvak Arathiel.
I pasted on my most photogenic smile—wide and dazzling enough to blind a drone lens—and leaned into the journalist’s recording device.
“I haven’t seen him race yet,” I said, voice smooth as silk. “Hopefully he’s got what it takes to keep up.”
I gave them a cheeky wink for the perfect finish, and we continued walking. I answered more questions and smiled for the cameras without complaint, and when security held them back at the entrance to the paddock, I was almost disappointed that our time was up.
The media weren’t allowed around the pit lane—too much of a health and safety hazard with all the extra bodies—but I wouldn’t have minded if they were.
I was used to the fame, the attention . . . Stars, I fucking thrived on it. To me it was just another perk of the job.
“Ready for the day, boys?” Ailor asked, their tone smooth. Calm and collected, as expected from a Trivorii.
“Always.” I was practically jumping.
Jax smiled, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. It grounded me amidst all the excitement. I loved racing season, and the best part of the weekend was still to come.
Ailor left us, stopping to talk to a CRF official, while Jax and I continued in companionable silence. I let my mind wander to tomorrow’s race, the one that kicked off the entire season. To the roar of the engines, the heat of the asphalt, the smell of burning fuel and scorched tyres.
Races were where I came alive.
But this wasn’t just another race. It was the start of my shot at a fourth championship title. No one had ever won four championships in a row, and this was my chance to go from champion to legend. This season, the stakes felt heavier, the eyes sharper, like—
SMACK!
Something hit my chest with a grunt.
No, not something. Someone. And I’d sent them falling to the dusty ground like a sack of bricks.
“Shit, sorry, I . . .” I trailed off when I looked down at the figure sprawled out on the asphalt.
Pale purple skin with a pearlescent sheen glittered under the morning sun, and inky black hair fell in waves past his shoulders, the top third tied up in a small messy bun. It wasn’t truly black, though, and on closer inspection I caught glimmers of blue, green, and violet shifting in the light like oil on the racetrack.
But it was the void-like eyes that made my skin crawl, and right now they were twisted into a scowl that could sour milk straight from the udder.
There was something otherworldly about them, something that made my brain hesitate, as if it couldn’t quite compute. And then the realisation slipped in like a whisper . . . This was the Iskari.
Jax cleared his throat, and I scrambled to hold out my hand, but the newbie was already getting to his feet without my help.
“Sorry about that.” I tried to cover my embarrassment with a weak chuckle. “My mind was elsewhere.”
He brushed off his racing suit with fine-boned hands. “Clearly.”
His voice was quiet, a little raw, like it wasn’t used very much. But there was an underlying intensity, a sharp edge that sounded like it could cut you off at the knees with only a few words. Those strange dark eyes continued to glower, but like his hair, they weren’t simply black. Tiny flecks of light shifted and swirled deep in their centres, reminiscent of the stars scattered throughout the galaxy. Like the constellations I fawned over during the off-season.
