The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) by Matthew Winchester

of the city, which always smelled like livestock and manure, was nicer than anything the Gap had to offer. Those acres of animals were smelly, yes. But the meat they provided was the main reason for Rainier’s wealth. Maybe if Adams had something like that, we wouldn’t have to all live in tin shacks.
              As I stepped up to Grace Buchannon’s building, I could see it was locked. The only way to gain access would be if the security officers inside remotely unlocked the door. I rang the buzzer on the outside and leaned down close to the speaker. As Adams had no such security features, I only had limited experience dealing with this kind of thing.
              “State your business,” a voice said. It was almost mechanical sounding, like a robot.
              I cleared my throat. “Um…my name is Elana Silver. I have a package delivery for one of your…uh….residents.”
              “What is the name?” asked the voice.
              “It’s Grace Buchannon,” I told it. Suite number ten.”
              The voice paused for a long few seconds. “There is no answer in her loft. She must be out. You could leave it for her, if you’d like.”
              I sighed. Great. Just what I needed. “I wish I could,” I said honestly. “I need her signature, though.”
              “Try her parents’ place,” the voice told me. “She is likely there in preparation for the race.”
              I nodded. “Copy that. I will. Thank you.”
              “Good day.”
              I turned and strode away. Her parents’ place was none other than Buchannon Terrace. It wasn’t a tower, or anything of the sort, it was just a large dome on the south end of the city. It was as big as two dozen homes in Adams, and was surrounded by twenty yards of empty space on all sides. No garden, no other homes, nothing. Just flat, metal ground. I had been there once or twice before, but I never enjoyed it. The people in the house/dome could see you coming from a long way off, and I got the distinct feeling that there could easily be some sort of gun turret that could pop out of the metal and destroy me at any moment. Even then, as I walked toward the squat, wide dome, I wondered just what was beneath the metal under my boots. I had heard stories that there were portions of Rainier that went underground, and I had no doubt it was true. That’s probably why the Buchannon’s home didn’t look huge and ridiculous like every other rich person’s. Because the rest of it was under the surface.
              Now at the dome, I knocked on the oversized door, ready to get this delivery over with. At once, a speaker to the left of the door crackled to life. “Who is it?” asked a feminine voice. She sounded young and impatient, and I knew at once that it was Grace. Behind her, however, I could hear two male voices speaking quietly to one another. It must have been her father holding some sort of meeting.
              “I have a delivery for you,” I said, readying the box under my arm.
              The speaker clicked off without a response, and I thought for moment I had spoken to the wrong person. But after a few long seconds, the door slid sideways with a quiet hiss and Grace stood in front of me.
            She was dressed like she was already about to enter the race. Her hair, which was cropped very short like mine and dyed blonde, was swept back neatly on top of her head. She wore a pair of fingerless leather gloves, which went well with the series of thin, black belts and buckles that laid in a pattern over her grey tanktop. It looked unnecessary to me, but then again, she was wealthy. Unnecessary and excess was the way they lived their lives. She also wore black slacks that tucked into a pair of