Chapter Five
Blaze
I look my eye over in the mirror. It looks fine, I can see fine, I guess waiting for a whole month was worth it. My new scar will take some getting used to, but I can’t deny that it looks totally awesome. I touch it lightly and wince. It’s still sore, maybe from a poison that coated the blade, or maybe from a faulty medicine the creepy ghost doctor gave me, or maybe I’m just paranoid.
“C’mon Blaze, we’re burning daylight” I hear August’s voice from the other room.
I smile lightly. Finally, something to do besides sit around the musty cabin to be left with my thoughts. The thought of the Venatores hunting us makes me sick to my stomach, and the mysterious girl still haunts me whenever I close my eyes. Why do I feel like I know her, or knew her for that matter. Questions surrounding her, who does she work for, why didn’t she finish me off, how did she know what we were in the first place? I mean, it’s not common knowledge that the Drage exist, but the girl seemed to know exactly how to take us down.
~
“And you’ve got everything planned out?”
“No more surprises.” He takes my hand, his thumb running along the leather fingerless gloves. “Except this.” He swings open the door and a fire red motorcycle sits in the sunlight. I’m speechless. Black handlebars, black leather seats, silver tailpipes, it’s everything I have ever dreamed of.
“August I cannot believe you’ve been hiding this from me.” I turn back to him and see his dorky smile.
“I got it with the cabin, I just didn’t pull it out till now.”
“Where on earth did you find the money? You didn’t steal it did you?”
“No, I paid for everything. Although I did have to steal the money from my dad.” He pulls out two helmets and hands one to me. “So firecracker, what do you say we show up to school in style.” I smile smugly and slide into the front seat. It feels so right, the leather, the paint with a shiny white sheen over the fire red. I grip the handles and I’m about to give it a rev when… “What do you think you’re doing.”
“Driving.”
“Uh, no. I’m the gentleman, I will be driving you.”
“Pfft, since when have you been a gentleman?”
“Do you even know how to drive one of these?” He got me there.
“Fine.” I slide to the back as he sits and places his hands on the bars. I wrap my arms around his middle and his dark maroon wings fade from view. A loud rev from the engine makes my heart soar and the machine hums between my legs. Then we’re off. August revs again and again as we take off through a trail down the forest and into town.
Main street in Ericlyn is an interesting place. Shops adorn the corner of the street. They are quaint little buildings with decorations lining each small shop front window. Tens of possibly hundreds of different styles of shops and homes contour the cobblestone walkways that line the streets. Some are pastel and look edible, others are dark, with names like “We witches” or “Charkman talismans and rocks.” ‘What the heck is a charkman?’ I think as we drive past the shop. I don't really care anymore as he speeds up and I grip to him tighter, feeling the heat from the motorcycle go through my black jeans, the early morning sun starts to warm my skin as well, and I shudder in delight. What a perfect day.
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