Drive-by Book Novels & Stories

I squirm anew as I take in the entire incendiary tapestry of our escalating blood feud on full salacious display. Which is precisely when the video pivots to its most insidious masterstroke - a perfect frame-by-frame breakdown of our cars passing within a whisper under the pedestrian bridge clearly highlights the unmistakable points of contact. Points of contact that could only have occurred from flagrant, perhaps even deliberate, sabotage and aggression on one of our parts.

My heartbeat thrummed violently, echoing in my ears, matching the rhythm of my anxious thoughts. When I reached his car, the sunlight bouncing off the sleek black hood did nothing to calm the storm inside me. He was already there, leaning casually against the door, phone in hand, that lazy, half-smile I’d once trusted too easily curling across his lips. But I didn’t let him speak. I opened the door, slipped into the passenger seat, and said nothing. Just: “Drive.” He hesitated, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Seraphina…”

On their way to the mansion, the drive was quiet as everyone was on their thoughts. Then a few minutes later, after not being been able to hold the silence anymore, Alexa suddenly say with with a look of disgust on her face, “I swear,” Alexa began with a dramatic voice and continued, “if my brother had a brain cell, he would still lose it in his own pocket, cause he so dumb”. Saying this, she hit the steering wheel hard as if she was imagining herself hitting Nathan.

I screamed, feeling on the verge of losing my mind. Blood was dripping from my fingers, but I didn't even feel the pain as I gripped the blade. Mom didn't even glance at my injury. She nodded firmly. "Yes!"

Was someone trying to tell me something? I picked up the opened book and studied the page. It was written by a woman in Australia who claimed to have been in contact with a pack of werewolves who’d allowed her to study them. I remembered how a good deal of it had sounded so farfetched that I’d closed the book with disdain. Now, after having dealt with and dissected one of those vile creatures, I re-read the pages with more interest and a far more opened mind. After leaning against my desk and reading a few more pages, I decided to pick up the rest of the mess that was caused by Max and my little sex tryst and then take the book upstairs with me. I was craving a sandwich and a glass of wi

Doesn't even wait for the door to fully close before barking, "Drive. Fast as you can." The driver doesn't hesitate. Slams on the accelerator. They tear out of the driveway. Onto the main road. Weaving through traffic with illegal speed. The other two SUVs follow close behind. A convoy of black vehicles racing toward the college. Inside the car, Dante's mind is racing. Elena awakening. Bloodlust. Running out alone and vulnerable. And his brother Aaron in town. Looking for leverage. Looking for ways to hurt him. Fuck fuck fuck. The pieces are all there. The pattern obvious.

ELEVEN I don’t remember much about the ride home. Bobby and I barely spoke as he drove wordlessly, staring down the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his copy of The King Wears Yellow. And me? To be honest, I can’t exactly remember, to this day. I think . . . I believe . . . I must’ve spent the ride flipping through my copy of the book. Even that is still a mystery to me. How I could’ve been walking aimlessly through the bookstore one moment, scorning Reverend McIlvian and his healing powers, and the next unconsciously buying his book, of all things.

And I believed I was not weak. The night deepened, and eventually the sound of engines rolled into the courtyard below. I walked toward the window and looked down at the arriving vehicles. So it was tribute night already. The distant Alphas certainly enjoyed gathering beneath my roof like obedient dogs pretending they still possessed dignity. Let them come. I already felt violence clawing beneath my ribs tonight, and if someone made a mistake, I intended to satisfy it. Perhaps Seth Vance would become tonight’s example. If he failed to pay tribute again, I would not humiliate him with servant duties this time.

Audrey's POV"" I drove the Stratos back into the facility car park with the particular reluctance of someone returning a library book they'd been meaning to keep. The engine ticked as it cooled. I sat in the driver's seat for an extra moment with my hands still on the wheel, storing the feeling — the weight of it, the noise of it, the specific quality of driving something your father loved before you knew you loved it too. Then I got out, and I saw the boys' faces, and I knew immediately that something had happened while I was gone.