Legendary Mechanic Novels & Stories

Watching him advocate so fervently for himself, I lazily raised my eyes and gave him a once-over. "And why exactly should I trust you? Is it your age? Your knack for dangling empty promises in front of employees? Or perhaps your expertise in workplace bullying?" That single glance I gave him wasn't really hurtful. It was just brutally humiliating. Watching him cower meekly, no longer dare to act tough, and still having to shamelessly plead with me felt indescribably satisfying. "I-I just want another chance. I didn't mean anything else by it. I'll make a comeback, I swear."

He seems hesitant, perhaps because he's confessing to his boss that he has access to this type of person. I don't give a fucking shit. -"And…" I encourage. -"Did any of them recognize the car?" I continue asking. -"Yeah, a crooked mechanic from California. Los Angeles, to be specific. Denney Cooper recognized the plate, and admitted to having it made for some strange guy. Almost six feet tall, dark hair, military build, and an unmistakable tattoo. Something about a bow and arrow on his arm." I listen carefully and take in the man's features. It's certainly not Jack, but some son of a bitch of an acquaintance.

My mind playing a story as I read the words written on the scroll. “The ultimate power is what I need to defeat Mazikeen, Monar new form, it is the only thing powerful enough in this world currently to do whatever I bids it enough. It is sang of. Praises to those who hold the power of the gods and can mold it to whatever shape they would want. I have the coordinates of how to get it but I cannot leave the palace. If I do the world is lost. Mazikeen will win.

"Excuse me mister, I'm paying you for your job. Do I look like someone who'll wait for something?" The mechanic stood up from where he was lying beneath the car. And that was when she saw him. A dark skinned guy with strong jaw, a sharp pointed nose with beard and sideburns. His hair, even though dirty, was dark and curly. How could a mechanic be that cute? She wondered. "I'm sorry, if you think you're too big to wait then feel free to leave. I can't leave the work of the customer that first you just because of your work, okay?".

To them, he was the Apex. Flanking him were the three 'Black Reapers'—the newly retrofitted, black-and-gold Vanguard mechs, their Star-forged Cores pulsing with blinding cyan plasma. "Jack," Sebastian looked up at the massive Defender mech. "Are the shock-absorbers online?" "Online and humming, Boss," Jack’s voice crackled through the external speakers, the heavy rotary cannon spinning up with a lethal whine. "Though a drop from this altitude is going to strip the paint."

Very soon, with Christmas around the corner, her biggest surprise awaited. When the car pulled up in front of the shop, I exhaled once, steadying myself. The sign above the bay door read Joaquín Hernández Mecánica, sun-faded but proud. Sparks flew from inside as a mechanic welded something. The smell of oil, metal, and old engines filled the air. I stepped out. Demetria’s father turned at the sound of the SUV door closing. Older, strong build, grey in his beard, grease on his hands. His gaze sharpened when he recognised me.

Tyrell said. “And you, Alpha Tyrell? Where do your loyalties lie?” I dared to ask. He stared at me for a long, silent moment before he sighed. “My loyalties lie with my mate and my people. You know the last thing I would do is put my people in danger. I wouldn’t have them caught by a bounty hunter, not even her father. And I’m sure she doesn’t want that either.” “And let’s say it does happen. I mean, from what I’ve gathered so far, it seemed to have happened already. Her father has caught one of us. Maybe even more,” I accused.

"Azel, can you really fix a machine like that? Because we definitely cannot!" "I can do it easily. I picked up a massive amount of mechanical knowledge while traveling through different wild sectors during my exile. Fixing a basic engine is a simple task for me." "I see. The machine is already useless junk, so I do not mind letting you play with the gears, young wolf. We are counting on you." "Elder, look! The iron engine is fully put back together." "Done already?" "See for yourself, Elder. Turn the ignition key." "Oh, wow! It is completely fixed! The engine is roaring perfectly!"

Her vulnerability still tugged at the edges of his thoughts, an unwelcome presence in his usually detached demeanor. The mechanic's skilled hands worked with precision, addressing the issue that had caused the car to break down earlier. Mace watched him with a critical eye, ensuring that the repairs were performed to his high standards. Despite his cold exterior, Mace had a reputation for being meticulous when it came to his possessions, and his car was no exception. The night air was filled with the soft hum of the mechanic's tools and the occasional muffled curses as he encountered a stubborn bolt or a recalcitrant component. The repair work proceeded efficiently, and it wasn't long before

She appreciated it, but a teensy tiny part of her kind of wanted him to rant and rave, to show vocally and physically how much he cared. I'm such an indecisive ninny. It took a while before they were able to leave the garage. The mechanic's shaking head as he surveyed the damage not exactly an encouraging sign. "I don't know, Naomi," said the grizzled wolf-her dad's brother and favored uncle-who worked as head mechanic. "It might be better to simply buy a new car and write this one off."