Page 8 of Hyperspeed
Zylo was an ASL legend, having been racing in the league for almost two decades with Zenith Nova. I’d looked at him with a dopey as fuck, “you’re my hero” expression for my first two years with Nexus, and I still respected him—you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t.
Though these days I saw him for what he was: a damn good racer, and someone I was worthy of competing against.
“Rev,” I called out, and the dark voids turned away from his teammate.
My skin erupted in goosebumps under his intense gaze. Fuck. Every time his eyes were on me, I felt like he could see right into my core. Maybe he could. Little was known about the Iskari since there were so few of them left. It’s not like I knew anything about the markings on his skin either.
“You’re going to make your people very proud,” Zylo murmured to Rev. Then he grinned at me, clapping a hand on my shoulder with such force I had to hide my grunt with a cough. “Good session today, Kai,” he said, whipping his gunmetal-grey hair over his shoulder.
“Thanks, Zylo,” I replied, offering a smile of my own.
“Looks like you’re eager to get that fourth championship under your belt.”
I shrugged, and my smile turned cocky. “We’re neck and neck for the record, Zylo. I think I can beat you, old man.”
Zylo threw his head back and roared with laughter. At thirty-eight, he wasn’t old. Not really. But he was the oldest racer in the league, so I made damn sure to remind him at every opportunity.
“We’ll see whether thisold mancan still whip your ass in the race tomorrow.” Zylo dropped his hand and nodded at Rev, his grin softening.
He said his goodbyes and skipped towards Zenith’s garage. He met up with his boyfriend, a Ymirithian called Saelix, at the door and disappeared inside.
Rev turned to me. “What do you want?” he asked, flat and direct.
“You came in fourth.” The words came out as a statement rather than a question.
“Yes?” The markings on his face pulsed with a deep red light, and I wondered what they meant. Whether they turned any other colour on the spectrum. Whether the crimson was solely for me.
“Good session today,” I replied, forcibly keeping my tone light.
“Right.” Rev’s expression didn’t change. He stayed stony-faced, impassive. He didn’t even say thank you. Rude.
“Uh. . .” I raised my hand to the back of my neck, attempting to squeeze out some of the tightness nestled in the muscles. It was the same tightness that had appeared the last time we’d spoken.
Conversation with a brick wall seemed to come easier than it did with him.
Rev said nothing, just moved to walk away, but I reached out to grab his wrist before he could get far. He sucked in a sharp breath and stared down at my hand, his top lip curled back like he might growl.
Where human canines would be, Rev had small, razor-sharp fangs, and unlike this morning, his hair was now braided away from his face, revealing pointed ears that twitched erratically. From irritation, maybe?
His markings pulsed red again, but the colour was darker—almost maroon, like a finely aged red wine.
“Your last manoeuvre was dangerous, Rev.” I released his wrist when he tugged back. “I know you’re used to the underground circuit—”
“You know nothing about me,” he snapped. Then he stepped back, putting distance between us, like he was scared I’d try to grab him again.
My jaw tightened, a scowl tugging at my mouth. “You could hurt someone if you pull a trick like that during a race.”
Didn’t he get it? This wasn’t an illegal street race. This was the Astro Space League. There were rules to follow, penalties to be had. It was more than just your average game, and you had to play it properly.
“Thanks for the feedback. I’ll take it on board.” His words dripped with sarcasm, which only annoyed me further.
“You know you could kill someone, right?” I bit out. “We’re not a lineup of hacks. We’reprofessionals, and that means—”
“I know exactly what it means,” he hissed. “You think I don’t know what kind of opportunity this is?”
“Exactly! It’s a huge fucking opportunity.” I threw my hands up, exasperated. “So don’t blow it for the rest of us with fucked-up moves that could run someone off the track.”
“Save your ‘I’m better than you’ attitude for the track, hotshot.” This time, when he turned to walk away, I didn’t stop him from walking towards Zenith’s garage.
