Page 5 of Cold Ignition

Rangi watched him for a moment before letting his head fall back against the pillar. The last forty-eight hours had been a mess of engines, gunfire, fists, and narrow escapes.

The racing circuit had always been dangerous. That was the point and the appeal. But lately it had become something else entirely.

"How many this time?" Alexios asked quietly.

Rangi didn't need clarification. "Three.”

Alexios exhaled slowly. "Too many."

Rangi nodded once.

Three drivers had disappeared after the last race. Not crashed. Not arrested. Just gone. Vanished the same way the others had over the past year.

The Crucible Circuit liked to sell itself to drivers as freedom. Fast cars. Big money. No rules except the finish line. But the deeper you ran inside it, the clearer the truth became.

The races weren't the business.

They were the audition.

Drivers pushed harder with every event. More money. Longer routes. More dangerous terrain. The organizers watched everything—telemetry, vehicle response, decision-making under pressure.

They were profiling drivers. Collecting them. And once a driver proved exceptional, the invitations changed.

Private runs.

Special cargo.

Higher stakes.

Drivers who said yes gained access to routes and money that could change a life. Drivers who said no started having problems. Vehicles sabotaged. Law enforcement suddenly appearing at the wrong moment.

Or simply disappearing.

They had known the circuit was a cover for something. He hadn't realized how big the machine behind it really was until the last race turned into a full ambush. They had joined to shut this shit down from the inside, but it was proving harder than expected.

Alexios slid the pistol back into the holster at the small of his back before pushing himself away from the wall. He crossed the room and lowered himself beside Rangi with a quiet grunt.

The Greek's lip was split, and one eye carried the dark swelling of a fresh bruise.

He still looked unfairly handsome.

"So," Alexios said after a moment. "Options?"

Rangi stared at the ceiling for a long beat. "Not many," he admitted.

They could run. They were good at running. Better than most. But the Crucible wasn't just racers and mechanics.

It had infrastructure and money, and people who knew how to hunt. And the moment they realized Rangi and Alexios had slipped the trap tonight, the search would start.

Alexios rubbed the back of his neck, wincing slightly. "We could disappear," he offered.

Rangi shook his head. "They’re too big, too fucking powerful. We couldn’t disappear for long."

Alexios didn't argue. He knew it too. The circuit didn't let talent walk away. Especially not drivers who had already seen too much.

Silence settled between them for a moment, heavy but comfortable.

They had lived through worse together.