Mask Rider Bike Novels & Stories

Pockmark Mask now. ***

"Tagging? With what?" "Microscopic RFID tracers," Sam explained, her voice tight with urgency. "The tech is bleeding-edge. The moment a high-performance motorcycle exceeds eighty miles per hour within a five-mile radius of a WEG-owned property, the overhead sensors hit it with a tracker the size of a dust mote. It’s designed to stick to carbon fiber and aluminum. It pings the bike's location the second the engine stops. Katia, he’s hunting something or someone, it's obvious. He’s trying to map every bike in the city that matches the specs of the one that humiliated his security team in Manhattan."

Stacks of cash gleamed under the headlights. Victoire nodded to one of the bikers. He approached, checked the money, nodded back. “Good girl,” Victoire purred. Elena tilted her head. “Now about that cute little bike of yours…” A burly man wearing a mask stepped forward, remote in hand. He pressed. Whoosh! Heat exploded behind me. I spun, my eyes widening. The bike, my bike, was engulfed in flames. Orange and black licking up the frame. Tires popping. The monitoring devices melting into slag.

– Ben replied in my place. - And then, disqualified? He winked, smiling. - I will go. But first you ride with me on the bike. - I? On the motorcycle? He looked seriously. – I have never ridden a motorcycle. - Like this? See what a coincidence... And I've never ridden in a Maserati. How about we try both today? - Is that safe? - he asked.

Mara finished. My stomach tightened. This was bigger than betrayal. This was exposure. Ruin released my hand and walked slowly toward the center of the room. The quiet authority in his movement made everyone straighten instinctively. “We do not panic,” he said. “We adapt.” “But we are blind now,” Axel replied. “Only temporarily.” Ruin turned toward Mara. “How many bikes match that engine signature?” “Three,” she said immediately. “All custom builds.” “Names,” Ruin said.

Ry shrugged, and he wasn't even giving Judah his full attention. "I was hoping to get a sleeve done someday. But it's probably not gonna be for a while. I'm putting all my money on my bike right now," Judah was still enthusiastic in his replies. "You ride?" Ryder's eyes lit up all of a sudden. Oh, right. Ryder was also into bikes. For the first time this entire dinner, Ryder actually looked enthused. "Yeah, a 1993 Ducati Monster. I parked it outside," "Oh, dude, that's a classic," his voice warmed up.

However, when he thought of the fact that Ryder had made this, especially for him, his heart softened and the dissatisfaction vanished immediately. While Ryder put on the coat and boots, Midnight fixed the mask on his face. Since it wasn't the first mask Ryder had made, it was the best one so far she had managed to create. Even though having a few flaws was inevitable, it still was pretty decent. The mask was a half one that covered only the upper half of Midnight's eyes. It resembled a ball's mask. It was black with delicate ornaments made of clay and painted with golden paint. The mask covered most of Midnight's face, including half of his cheeks, but his jaw and lips were out in plain sig

Like she was empty of tears. "The mask was a gift from my mom, someone I thought I lost long before I lost my dad, I survived with an injury on my face that the doctors said would scar me. Everyone hated me after that, for taking away their alpha, for being weak and ugly." Lennox's hand came around her and held her close as she exposed more of herself. "The mask was a way of hiding my face so I don't disgust people but more than that it was what helped me stay close to my parents even when the wound was gone, I couldn't be without the mask."

I lift my head, feeling something inside of me rising to the challenge. I walk towards the numerous vehicles and see what I’m looking for. The Mother’s Revenge has the best toys. But there is only one toy I want. My beast. I smile as I look at her sitting there all matte black and gold. I walk closer to my bike and press the implant behind my ear, and the disguise covers me once more. I see the shiny black helmet on the seat of my bike and pick it up and pull over my head and pull the visor down. I straddle my bike and start her up.

His eyes flick to mine. “Fast enough to hurt your feelings.” Adriano curses in Italian and walks to another bike. His hand settles on a black and silver monster. “The BMW M 1000 RR,” he says flatly. His eyes lock on mine. “205 horsepower. Built for racing. Aerodynamic winglets. Brutal acceleration.” His voice drops. “You can still back out.” I smile. They are trying to intimidate me with specs and technical jargon. “I won’t. This beautiful lady tells me she will look even better with a Victory ribbon and I believe her” I say stroking a finger in reverence over the leather seat of the MTT.