The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free

dreamily. “See you later.”
              “See ya,” I said, watching as he took a left at the intersection we were passing. Despite the heavy tanks under his arms, he sauntered toward Old Man Nichols’ shop like he hadn’t a care in the world. I couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of him as I continued toward my delivery destination.
              The Mayor’s house was at the center of the town, and was the nicest building in the Gap. Of course, that wasn’t saying much. That just meant it was sturdier, and had less rust on the metal sections of it. It also had a second story, which was basically unheard of in Adams. Mayor Westward and his wife were the closest thing we had to wealth in our town. The people here tried not to resent them for it, though. Their status gave them some privileges, but ever since the death of their young daughter, Constance, from illness some years back, none of the citizens ever gave them any flak for it. The Dominion had failed to provide Constance the proper medical care in time, and she had died. The Westwards had felt the pain that the rest of us had felt, as well as the barely concealed indifference offered by the Archons, who were the rulers of the Dominion. From that moment on, the Westwards had become the same as us, and we all felt it.
              My route to the center of town took me past all the landmarks I had grown up with. There was Wilkerson’s bakery, where my brother and sister always like to stop and smell the air when the door opened. I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed it, too. It always smelled of sweetness and cinnamon, and sometimes even chocolate. Such delicacies were always just out of our budget, but smelling the delicious fragrances on the air was a treat in itself, and it always made us feel like children again. As I walked by, I inhaled deeply through my nose, catching a small whiff of fresh bread. It was delightful.
              After that was the Greer’s shop, where Mr. and Mrs. Greer made and sold glass trinkets and miniatures. They never got much business. Not from locals, anyway. But it was a labor of love for them, and Zanna adored looking at the tiny glass animals and airships. Rigel was fascinated by the process of glassblowing, and had almost ended up as an intern for Mr. Greer before Leo Campbell, Rigel’s father, forbade him from doing so. Apparently, there wasn’t enough money to be made in glass crafting. I remember Rigel being pretty upset, but he had listened. He became a dockworker instead, but I knew he still sometimes snuck into the Greer’s on his lunch break to watch them work.
              Next was Joe Pipkin’s sweet shop. Rigel and I used to run across his rooftop as part of a shortcut that we’d made when bounding through the town. He had only ever yelled at us a few times. He had always been a very nice man. Like the Greers, money wasn’t Joe’s primary focus. As long as he could make enough to buy more sugar or syrup, it was fine by him. Even though he was in his fifties, and had a head of thin grey hair, I think he loved snacking on the candies as much as any kid in the whole city. I think that was what I liked about him. Even though the world was a bleak one, especially in Adams, he never let it bring him down. Maybe that’s where Rigel learned it from.
              As I continued through the main area of town, I was able to make it to Mayor Westward’s house without being badgered about what I was carrying. Doing my best to look as professional as I could, I pulled off my helmet with a free hand and tried to ruffle some life into the short brown hair that had been flattened against my skull. Giving up after only a few seconds, I lifted a gloved hand to the white door and rapped loudly.
              It took only a minute for the door to open, revealing the tall, pudgy frame of Mayor Westward. He was wearing a grey