Blackblood Bear (A Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (The Agency Book 2)

Blackblood Bear

The Agency Book 2

By Amelia Jade

Blackblood Bear

Copyright
@ 2016 by Amelia Jade

First Electronic Publication: August
2016

Amelia Jade

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.

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Blackblood Bear

Shay

Air screamed by, coming inches from her face before the clear plastic of her faceguard buffeted it aside. Her ears rang from the noise, despite the sound-deadening material built into her helmet that was supposed to help with just that problem. The noise came back down from its peak as she tapped the brakes while angling around the corner at a slightly less than breakneck speed.

On her left trees rushed by so quickly as to be no more than a green and brown blur; the majestic oaks and dominant maples were reduced to blobs that her brain never noticed. The grandstands on the right were packed with–

Nothing. They were empty.

That little tidbit of information managed to wiggle its way into her brain, but even then, she filed it away, jamming her foot down on the gas as she entered a straightaway. She needed all the help she could get.

The screaming grew louder once more as the needle on her speedometer raced to the right. It was accompanied by a deep thrum from the car as it shot forward. Vibrations came at a rate of several million per second as they raced up her feet, shaking her entire body as she rattled around in the chair, holding on to her wheel tightly, the course layout memorized in her brain. Turn Twelve was coming up, and it was the tricky one. A hairpin right that was more than ninety degrees, the track actually curved back onto itself a bit. It had been her nemesis so far during the time trials.

Her headset buzzed.

“Okay Shay, Twelve is just ahead,” her crew chief, Dan O’Hallern said in her earpiece. “Remember what we discussed.”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “Take her down a notch, then hold that for a second,
then
accelerate like crazy into Thirteen, because she’s a slow easy bitch and you can really carry speed through into the straightaway.”

She could see Dan and his big beard, a smile on his face as she recited his directions word for word.

There was no more time for that, however, as Twelve was upon her. She let up on the gas, held it, tapped the brake, held it a split second more, then as she saw the first inkling of the end of the turn she hammered her foot home again. The car jumped forward, the open-cockpit racer responding to her slightest touch.

For just a second, she was elsewhere. Somewhere overseas, in a foreign country. One of the big races, the Grands. She wanted nothing more than to be there, to demonstrate to the world that she could hang with the best of the best. The grandstands would be full of cheering fans, waving flags of all colors and nationalities as their favorite drivers raced by almost faster than they could see. Nothing would be left behind but the thudding impact of the sound of the engine as it washed across the delirious bystanders, making them feel almost as if they were in the race.

Shay blinked rapidly, focusing as she guided the car through Thirteen, barely slowing at all as tires squealed slightly.

Not good. I should have let off the gas a bit more there.

That thought was reinforced by a slight bump, as her wheel hit the warning track, a red-and-white striped barrier that ran along both sides of the track. Her speedometer dropped precipitously as she grimaced, holding the wheel tight as she finished the turn and raced back up to speed once more. It wasn’t much, but it could be enough.

“It’s okay,” Dan’s voice said in her ear, as if he understood her concern. “You’re still on track, you can still do this. You built up enough of a gap earlier. Trust me.”

She did. Instead of wasting precious breath, which she had already done earlier, she just grunted an affirmative. Sitting back into her seat, she let the asphalt flow beneath her, feeling the power of the engine as it roared its defiance to the gods of physics. It hurtled her along at speeds that would leave a normal person sitting in a pool of their own bodily fluids, struggling to maintain consciousness.

Shay smiled.
She
fucking loved it.
There was no denying it; this was her passion in life. Speed. The more of it, the better. Even now her needle inched upward, tugging the corners of her cheeks tighter as the smile became a full-fledged grin. It didn’t matter that things were going south faster than an avalanche. When she was on the track, four tires hugging the corners and zipping down the straightaways, g-forces dimming her vision and noise roaring in her ears, she was at peace.

“Shay! SHAY!” The voice roared in her ears and she suddenly came back to reality.

Shit.

She was barreling toward Turn Fifteen. She should be reducing her speed already. With a snarl she tapped the brakes, downshifted, and tugged the wheel slowly to the left, trying to glide through the corner. She could still make it, but it would be a little tighter than initially hoped for.

The concrete wall loomed large on her right, coming closer and closer as she tried to force her way through the turn. This was going to kill time, but she still had one more lap left where she could try to qualify for this weekend’s race.

Shay could do it.

It came down to a fraction of an inch. The rear right wheel needed to clear the concrete as she pulled harder, turning the race car sharper than she’d wanted. The wheels lost traction for just a second, slipping across the hard ground. They recovered and shot her forward, but that rear right wheel just grazed the concrete barrier. Unfortunately for Shay, at the speeds she was going, a graze was catastrophic.

The tire shredded instantly, her car skidded across the track, and suddenly the whole rear blew apart. Pieces of carbon fiber showered the track and sent her into a tailspin as she careened down the course, the world whipping by, pressing her back into her seat.

It was over. She knew it. There would be no recovery from this.

The scent of burning rubber filled her nostrils. Shay closed her eyes and let the darkness claim her.

The pressure lessened, and she grunted angrily as the blackness never came, never hauled her blissfully into its realm, where she could escape the reality for just a while longer.

“Fuck!” she screamed, knowing the screech would be heard over the radio.

She didn’t care. The car slid to a halt. Popping her harness free, she hit the engine kill switch and jumped from the car. Her helmet came off next, momentarily becoming a club as she slammed it repeatedly into the side of the car. Black and purple metallic paint peeled off, turning her white helmet into a swirl of color as it twisted in her hands upon each impact.

“Dammit,” she swore again, but this time it was a cry of defeat, not of anger.

A pit truck rolled to a halt in front of her vehicle. She was the only one on the track at that time, so there was no fear of other vehicles that might come whipping around the corner.

Whipping
properly
around the corner
, she corrected internally, still very unhappy with herself. A split-second lapse of concentration. That was all it took, and all it had taken, to derail her dreams.

Her helmet buzzed. Probably Dan trying to reach her. Shay lifted it to her face.

“I’m fine,” she said into it, then killed the headset built into it. Just then, she wanted to be alone. Just her, her wrecked car, and the lifetime it contained.

Just those three things, and the pit crew hooking it up so it could be towed out of the way of the real racers, the ones who would actually finish their lap in a decent time.

When they were finished, she wandered over to them and hopped onto the truck, hitching a ride back to the pit. The crew dropped the wrecked racer off at her station. Shay saw her crew waiting, but she couldn’t deal with them. Not right then.

Head down, shoulders slumped, she made her way over to the small trailer hooked up to the back of a truck and all but threw herself inside, locking the flimsy door behind her. Although she didn’t normally do that, Shay knew Dan would come to see how she was, to tell her it was okay.

Normally she liked that. But this time, she didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t fine. It was over. The tears began to flow as she finally admitted that to herself.

It was all over.

***

Her head hurt.

In front of her, steam lifted itself skyward until it was sucked into her nose as she inhaled. The crisp scent of coffee went to battle with the lethargic slug that was her hangover.

The slug won.

Shay gritted her teeth in anger. This, this was a fight she could win. Bringing the piping-hot mug to her mouth, she slurped down some of the liquid, providing reinforcements.

The caffeine hit her like a sledgehammer, so hard that Shay thought she could actually feel her pupils dilate.

“Whoa,” she muttered into her empty mug, setting it down carefully as her hand began to shake from the sudden infusion of energy.

Around her the world seemed to cast off its cover of gray, color returning in a vibrant wave that threatened to lift her mood out of the black hole it currently resided in. In front of her, she eyed the scattered papers again, wondering if she now had the strength of spirit to go through them with the fine-tooth comb that would be necessary.

Shay would, there was no doubt of that in her mind. She had to. Hidden somewhere within them was what she sought. Another race, another stop on one of the several low-level circuits that she frequented that would give her a shot. Another attempt at rising back to the level she had once known. The only question, was
where
?

The chair across from her squeaked as someone pulled it across the floor, then groaned as the person sat.

“I didn’t see you come in,” she said as Dan pulled himself up to the table.

He snorted. “You were face-deep in your morning wake-me-up. I doubt you would have noticed a dinosaur wandering past.”

Shay smiled. She liked Dan. He was a good man. Rough around the corners and with a short temper, but honest and generally oriented on doing the right thing. That was why she employed him.

Like now. He was right; she was wrapped up in her coffee and the papers in front of her. Sitting up a little straighter, she looked around, taking in the little coffee shop as if for the first time. It was small, buried right in the middle of the pit itself, only several dozen feet from the track. Around her, other racers or their crews sat in small clumps at the black-and-white checkered tables, their own wire-mesh chairs pulled up close.

The difference was that they would be looking at race data and discussing changes to be made for the next day’s actual race. Shay was looking at another race.
Any
other race, really.

“I finished assessing the damage with Mikko,” Dan said at last.

Mikko was her chief mechanic. Well, really her
only
mechanic. Dan knew his way around the cars and was a big help, but Mikko was the one that made it so that she could actually go out and race.

“And?” she asked hesitantly as another racing crew came through the door, the little bells chiming their entrance. One of them caught her looking and nodded respectfully at her. She nodded back, then turned her attention back to Dan.

“I think we can get you back on the track,” he said.

Shay knew him. If Dan said he thought it could be done, it could be done. That was great, except…

“Dan,” she began.

“Don’t say it,” he said immediately, holding up his hand to forestall any further words from her mouth. “You’ll be fine. We’ll proceed to the Tusco, and you’ll qualify, and it’ll be fine,” he said firmly.

Shay shook her head. Oh Dan. Always so positive, her own personal cheerleader, never willing to let her get down.

“We’re not going to Tusco,” she said softly.

Dan frowned. “Why not? It’s the next stop. We have three weeks to get everything in top shape before then.” He smiled. “Come on Shay, it’ll be fine. We’ve been through worse.”

Despite herself, she smiled, though it wasn’t a happy one. “Dan,” she said, her spine straightening.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the change in her body language and the tone of her voice registered. “What is it, Shay? What aren’t you telling me?”

“This was it, Dan. They sent me a letter. If we didn’t qualify today, that was our third in a row.” She sighed. “We’re done, Dan. They shut us down.”

Dan sat back into his chair, thoughtful.

She eyed her empty coffee mug while waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

“Okay,” he said at last. “So we shut it down. Retool. Resume our search for a sponsor maybe, and we hit the ground rolling when next season starts.”

Shay smiled, but shook her head. “Dan.” She caught herself, feeling her throat tightening up with emotion as she tried to speak.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The pattern repeated itself several times until she felt confident the next words would come out without her breaking down in tears.

“You’re great, Dan. It’s been a pleasure to have you on the team.” Shay sighed. “But I can’t afford to keep you on anymore. Our funds are gone. I’m broke.” Her heart shattered into pieces as she watched him process the implications.

Shay was effectively firing him and the rest of her small team, even if she didn’t have a choice. It was a terrible thing to do, but there was no other way around it. She thanked her lucky stars that her entire crew was sought after by other drivers, and would not spend very long unemployed, if they even spent any at all.

“Oh.” That was all he said at first. They had been working together for five years now. He didn’t need to say any more than that to convey his feelings. Then, “What will you do?”

“I thought I’d find somewhere else for us to go,” she said with a nod. “That was until I looked at the bank account. Now?” She laughed, a shaky, nervous thing. “Now I don’t know.”

Dan frowned. “Why don’t you go find your father?”

Shay almost said no without thinking, but something made her hesitate. For several months now, her missing father had been weighing on her mind.

You don’t even know if he’s missing. He could just be going through another one of his uncommunicative streaks. It’s not like he hasn’t done that before. Like, oh I don’t know, the first eighteen years of your life? What’s six months without an email?

It was nine months now, including the three she had been thinking about going to find him. It wasn’t quite that simple though.

Shay had never really had a relationship with her father, a man who had been an enigma for most of her childhood. Even now, the past five years had been filled with sporadic visits and even more random email updates.

“Maybe,” she said at last, hedging her thoughts carefully.

Dan just smiled. She hated how he could often know what she was going to do before she did it.

He’s who I wish my father had been. Big beard and even bigger booming laugh, and he carefully looks out for me while trying not to appear like he is.

“Thank you,” she whispered, accepting his approval of her choice.

“I’ll tell the others,” he said. She smiled, gathering up to give him a hug.

“No, Dan. They’re my team. I’ll tell them,” she said, though she was appreciative of the offer.

“So,” he asked as she tossed the sheets together into a pile, putting down some change to cover her cup of coffee as well. “Where do you start?”

Shay frowned. “The last email he sent mentioned something about a place called King City and a possible interview as a Group Protection Plan member, whatever the hell that means.”

Dan smiled, putting his arm around her in a familial gesture. “It’s going to be good for you,” he said. “You’re going to have fun. Trust me.”

She hoped he was right.