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

knitted waistcoat, and had an absurdly large, unlit pipe hanging from his mouth. His dark, greased hair was a bit out of sorts, and I wondered if I had awakened him from a nap, or something. His drooping brown eyes glared down at me in semi-confusion, but they quickly flitted over to the box and he seemed to understand.
              “Delivery, is it?” he huffed, breathing loudly through his nose as he adjusted the pipe with his lips.
              I nodded, holding out the box. “Yes, sir. From Rainier.”
              “I need to sign anything?”
              “Just that slip there,” I pointed to the corner of the box.
              Westward patted down the chest of his waistcoat, searching for a pen that wasn’t there. From behind him, a narrow feminine arm reached over his slouched shoulder. “Here you are, dear,” said his wife, Cecily, as she handed him a silver and blue fountain pen.
              “Hm. Yes, thank you,” he grunted, taking the pen from her. Blinking his eyes pointedly, he scribbled at the shipping slip for a moment before tearing off the top copy and handing it back to me.
              I gave him a nod of thanks and turned to leave when I heard Mrs. Westward slap her husband on the arm. “Rupert, it’s proper manners to tip the girl.”
              “Right, then. Here you are,” the mayor grumbled, tossing me a coin from his pocket. I had to snap a hand up to catch it, but he didn’t even wait for me to thank him. As he was closing his door, the only thing I could hear was Cecily whispering.
              “Is that for the race?” she asked.
              I scoffed as I walked away. Rigel had been right. Probably his Race Day speech. Definitely looking forward to hearing that, I thought to myself as I stepped away from their house. Opening my hand, I looked down at the coin he had tossed me and felt my eyes bulge for a second.
              “Twenty tokens?” I breathed, cradling the coin in my hand as if it were suddenly made of glass. That was as much as I made in a week. He had just thrown it to me as if it were nothing to him. How much money did he have that he could just throw twenty tokens at someone like it wasn’t a big deal? So much for being just like the rest of us. Quickly, I slipped the coin in my pocket and gave a cursory glance around, making sure no one had seen it. I didn’t want anyone begging me for a handout.
              It wasn’t that I was against helping others, but I had never begged for anything in my life. I had always found a way to earn my keep, to provide for those I needed to provide for. I didn’t have much in this world, but what I did have were things I had earned. I found it difficult to pity those that couldn’t. I even hated accepting gifts, even for my birthday. Rigel could attest to that. Once or twice he had tried giving me things, and I had mostly refused them. He once gave me a pair of flying gloves that he had made himself. I accepted them only because I knew it would crush him if I refused. In hindsight, I was glad I did. They were comfortable and durable, and I was still wearing them even after two years.
              With a bit of a spring in my step, I journeyed back toward the docks, headed for Nichols’ shop. I just needed to drop off my delivery slip and, hopefully, that would be all for the day. It was getting to be that time, anyway. And since I had made an extra week’s wages with one run, I would’ve loved to have the rest of the day off.
              When I arrived, Rigel was still there, putting the finishing touches on the hydro tanks I had given him earlier. He was laughing at some joke that had just passed between him and Sparks, the long-distance courier that Nichols used for carrying goods to other parts of the