ARC: Cracked by Eliza Crewe Read Free Book Online

the inside. He slips his vest back on over a plain white tee, and we take off again to find our getaway cars.
    Our getaway cars are, in fact, getaway motorcycles, the big American kind with high handlebars and lots of chrome. Three are parked right in a row, tucked into the shrubs lining the highway. The leather jackets make sense now, and the patches on them obviously marked them as bikers, had I been paying attention. A black cross in the middle lined with red. Night’s Knights arches across the top, and underneath Mountain Park MC.
    Upon closer inspection there are actually only two motorcycles and one giant tricycle pretending to be a motorcycle.
    “Motorcycles?” I whisper.
    “Crusaders were knights, cavalry – the closest thing we have these days,” Chi explains, waving at the bikes.
    “Plus they’re small enough for a Crusader to teleport, can go places cars can’t, they’re cheaper and the mileage is great,” Jo adds wryly. “The Crusaders have a stable of cars too.”
    Motorcycles. I could crush them in my little hands, pop them as if they were balloons. Quite possibly I could eat them, though passing them might be uncomfortable. I could probably outrun them. But Human Meda yelps and whimpers.
    “Aren’t motorcycles… dangerous ?”
    Bahahahahaha.
    “Not if you know how to drive one.” Chi winks.
    Jo turns to Uri, “Speaking of which, you don’t even have your license yet.”
    “Well, no, not exactly…” He shoots SOS eyes at Chi.
    “Aw, come on, Jo. You and I were sneaking out on our bikes when we were much younger–”
    Her death glare is back, killing his words. “And, if an adult had caught us, we would have been chewed out.”
    “So you’re an adult now?”
    “One of us ought to be.”
    “Says the girl who snuck out to fight demons.”
    “I did not–” Jo starts, then clamps her jaw and takes a breath. “Put on your helmet, let’s go.” She climbs on the tricycle. I guess they gave her an extra wheel since she’s short a leg.
    “You sure you want me to wear my helmet?” Chi taunts. “You might choke the next time you bite my head off.”
    Jo doesn’t dignify that with an answer and instead guns her trike and roars off. Chi actually doesn’t wear his helmet but passes it to me. I put it on and climb on behind him. I’m pretty durable, but concrete and I have faced off before. While I didn’t die, I wouldn’t say I won, either. Chi waits as Uri gets situated on his bike and we follow.
    The whistling wind steals my attempts to talk, so I give up and think instead. Any lasting effects of the soul-drunk are long gone – there’s no brain-cotton cocooning me from my thoughts now.
    Like any fatherless child, I’ve wondered about the man responsible for the glory that is me. Needless to say, it’s disappointing to learn he’s the kind who’d probably eat his young.
    I’ve always known I’m a monster. My skin is as tough as sheet metal, my bones are almost impossible to break. I can run faster and jump higher than any Olympian. My strength is unreal. And let’s not forget, I eat people (though I was exaggerating about the whole motorcycle thing).
    But somehow it’s different, knowing I’m not just any monster, but the walking embodiment of evil. Though again, I still shouldn’t be shocked. Not with the things I’ve done. My conscience is such a pathetic, silent thing I had to share off Mom’s like a parasite, sucking the goodness out of her because I have none of my own.
    Mom knew. I don’t know how much she knew exactly, but she always knew I was different. Bad. She watched me for signs of wickedness, for violent tendencies. The Hunger. She was never surprised when the naughty traits appeared but she was always dismayed. I guess she didn’t know how much of my DNA soup was going to come from dear old Dad’s pot.
    It makes sense now, why she wanted to wait until I was older to tell me. She didn’t want to tell her grade-schooler she was a child of evil. Maybe