Veronica Rossi

“How about you?” I asked, trying to keep words happening. “Play any sports?”

“I might have.”



“Did you grow up in a state that starts with the letter A, M, or T?”

Her lips did this twisty thing to the side.

“Isn’t that how we’re doing this? Process of elimination?”

Daryn brushed some sand off her jeans. “The less we do of this, the better it’ll be for both of us.”

I started laughing. I didn’t know what had just hit me. Daryn laughed too, more at me than with me, but it didn’t matter. I enjoyed it.

“You run a pretty good defense, Martin. You know that?”

“I’ve gotten better.”

“Does this mean you’re not going to tell me about the downloads you get? Or how often you get ’em? Or how long you’ve been doing this? Like, is this your first assignment, or have you been seeking—seekering?—your whole life? And, like, when you saw me—you said you saw me—was I excelling at protecting secret powerful objects? Doing epic War shit? How amazing was I, is basically what I want to know. But in specifics. Did I look really-really awesome or just kind of good? Wait, wait—I looked prime. Didn’t I, Martin?”

“Are you done?”

“With my opening questions?”

She shook her head. “Wow.”

“You don’t have to answer.”

“I know I don’t.” She reclined her seat and put her feet up on the dash. I thought the subject was closed because she shut her eyes, but then she said, “It’s not often you meet people who are so persistent.”

“How often do you meet people who are War?”

She peered at me and gave a little shrug, like you’re really not all that special. Then she closed her eyes again.”

Veronica Rossi, Riders
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Riders (Riders, #1) Riders by Veronica Rossi
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