Drift X Brite Bomber Novels & Stories

he asked with a frown. Blaze is sure. That scent belongs to the drifters. The airy drifting scent only belongs to them. "I am sure" Blaze confirmed. Brandon is now in confusion. As far as they know, Drifters are a Myth. They have powers and they can drift between worlds and one place to another without being detected. Just like the fae who can shift from one place to another, all the drifters can drift from one place to another. It's their nature. There was a time when their services are used by the kings for the greater good of the citizens. But the drifters became greedy and they began to accept petty jobs against the crown for money.

At the same time, Lucifer turned back towards the floor-to-ceiling TacMap and plotted an attack run against the station’s patrolling squadron. “Raijin, Xylo,” ze said. “We’ve got bogeys at 86, 22, 75. Sending attack data now.” “Just send the word and we’ll get rid of ‘em,” Xylo replied. “At your convenience.” Xylo’s fighters and the Hawk drones sped forward at nearly the same time, however the drones accelerated far faster than the fighters. Without any biological pilots to account for, they could easily go as fast as their structure could handle the g-forces.

It wasn't just having to keep your seat several thousands of feet in the air, but this dizzying dance that could only end in one of them smashed on the ground. That was when a flash of something that reflected the light of the sun caught my eye, and I saw Xavier running down Bane's side a little way to where the Drake's legs were clamped onto Bane's underside. The flash of his sword caught the sun once more as he leaped across the gap and rammed it all the way to the hilt right under the drake's hind leg. It was the only spot a move like that would have worked; it was right where its scales were the weakest. The drake let go with a screech of pain, and Bane was able to steady himself seconds

“Can’t you just go upstairs in your room and don’t fucking mind my business here? You were gone. You shouldn’t come back at all.” Drake stood up and raised his brows at her with a sharp stare. “I come back here because it was my house.” “Or you came back because you are afraid that I will be gone forever?” she smirked when she saw his facial reaction. “Admit it, Drake. You are afraid that your breeder will be gone without your heir,” he added savagely. Drake balled his fists, his jaw clenched. “I’m not afraid, unwanted stray. I can have any breeder I want in my bed to carry my heir. You are available, so why can’t I take it as an advantage?” he fired back.

“No swerve.” “Wait for the swerve to decide if you trust the driver,” the other replied, and touched the sack like a talisman. Halfway down the market run, one truck slowed a hair too much, drifted a shade too close to a side lane. Jun’s hand rose without words; three militia peeled from shadow and took exactly three steps. The truck’s engine changed its mind. It corrected. Alexander’s voice count-clicked in their ears. “Drone one, lazy circle at our four o’clock. Drone two, holding high. No brain. If they blink, I blink twice harder.”

Raindrops beaded on his shoulders, glinting like scattered diamonds under the dim lights. "Boss." Drake approached quickly, but there was a noticeable hesitation in his movements. He was trying to hide his right hand behind his back, wincing as he spoke. His face was pale beneath the harsh lights, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow. "Apologies, Boss. There was a minor malfunction with the detonator during the breach. My right hand took the brunt of the recoil—cracked a bone. I can't lead the way properly tonight."

My cheeks and lips were a sickly shade of blue, and my skin bore signs of frostbite. I lay there quietly, as if soundly asleep. But everyone could see it was just a dead body. Ava covered her mouth and started to sob out loud. Jamie hid behind Dad, quietly asking, "Dad, what's wrong with Lyra? Why is she lying there? Is she cold?" After Mom was taken to the side, a patrol officer began asking them questions. "When was she left behind at the rest stop?" "Around… 4:00 pm," Dad answered, his throat dry.

“You just don’t need a throne to prove it.” She pressed her forehead against his chest, breathing raggedly, as thunder rolled across the sea. When the storm passed, they were both shaking but alive. And just as dawn crept across the waves, painting the horizon gold again, a faint sound drifted through the wind. Engines. Bianca stiffened instantly. Matteo’s hand went to the gun he thought he’d never need again. Through the mist, a black drone descended sleek, silent, bearing the sigil of a phoenix in crimson.

The jet sliced through a sky bruised with dawn. No words passed as Damian stepped aboard, just curt nods exchanged between men who already knew. The Drăghici heir had returned to Romania, and blood would follow. The interior of the plane was opulence forged in shadow: dark mahogany panels carved with the wolf crest, embossed leather seats stitched in burgundy thread, and gold accents dulled with age and legacy. Beneath one seat rested a locked weapons case; he didn't need the key. He broke the latch open with his boot and dragged it into the aisle.

Bryant had already jumped out of the car and opened the back door. Britney got out and followed Bryant to the trunk. Raiden shone a flashlight into the trunk, took out a package, and tossed one to Bryant. Then, he retrieved another package and pulled out a pair of sand-colored hiking boots, handing them to Britney. “Put these on.” Without hesitation, Britney took the boots and bent down to remove her casual shoes. Suddenly, a deep rumbling sound echoed from the sky. Britney looked up to see several planes flying overhead against the night sky.