Page 98 of Devil May Lie

“Here, let me help you with that.” Madden took the purple helmet out of Berga’s hands and settled it over his head, taking his time to adjust the strap before clicking it into place. “There’s a comms built in, so we’ll be able to talk while we ride.”

“Worried I’ll crash and destroy another one of your precious babies?” the Butcher taunted. He’d refused to change into racing gear aside from the helmet and gloves, insisting he didn’t need them. Since he’d been so close to the edge when Madden had arrived at Void Manor, he didn’t want to push and let it go.

Even if he’d been fantasizing Berga dressed in one of his racing outfits for days.

Next time.

“The only precious baby I’ve got here is you.” He shut Berga’s visor with a click and laughed. The two bikes he’d chosen for them were old, still in great condition, but not models he’d driven for a while. Since this was just for fun, he figured it was best to avoid all the bells and whistles and just keep things simple. “Don’t think that means I’ll go easy on you though. When you inevitably cry, I’ll wipe your tears.”

“That so?” Berga adjusted his leather gloves, not seeming the least bit intimidated despite their obvious difference in skill level. “Too bad. I won’t make the same promise. When you start whining like a little kid, I won’t feed you any candy to settle you down.”

Madden couldn’t help but laugh at that. The Butcher was always so creative with his word choices. They kept things interesting and more often than not, Madden found himself bringing random things up in conversation just to see what his Mad Scientist might respond with.

He wanted to ask how things had gone with Baikal, but now wasn’t the right time. He’d wait until after, once they’d both blown off steam and there was no longer any lingering fear that Berga might slip away from him again. The abyss, that’s what he called it, right? A sort of darkness that overtook everything else around him, blocking out reality so he was forced to only focus on the girl in pink and the blood that came along with her.

He'd realized that was what Berga always referred to the hallucination of his sister as. The girl in pink, or the girl in the pink dress. He never called her by name. On some level, he had to realize that the image he saw and his actual sister weren’t the same. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“Are we going to do this or not?” Berga had already tossed a leg over the white and purple bike he’d been assigned. His head was turned toward Madden, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell for sure if he was looking at him or not. His voice came in loud and clear through the speaker inside Madden’s own helmet though, and he gave a thumbs up before climbing onto the hoverbike set next to him.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Madden offered, flicking on the machine between his thighs and sighing in satisfaction when it purred to life beneath him.

“Not a chance,” Berga stated. “But I may be up for altering the stakes.”

“Yeah?” Did that mean his talk with Void had gone well after all? It’d been hard to tell when Madden had entered the manor, especially when Baikal had merely nodded in silent hello from the doorway before walking off. “What were you thinking?”

“Let’s keep things simple,” he suggested. “Whoever wins chooses the position.”

“Position, huh?” Madden played dumb. “What we talking about here, Butcher?”

“We’re obviously fucking after this.”

He snorted. “Obviously.”

“Hurry up and agree before I change my mind.”

“All right, all right,” he held up a hand in defeat. “I agree to the new terms. Of course. I can already picture how I’ll pose you to my liking later.”

Berga clicked his tongue. “Don’t get too cocky, baby.”

“Pretty sure that’s my line.” Madden pointed to the counter at the side of the street. “Have any questions before we start?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve been here before, Mad King.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

“Just hit the start button.”

Madden obliged, clicking the small button on his multi-slate that would start the timer he’d pointed out. Large neon letters appeared on the screen then, starting from five down. He got ready, still debating with himself whether or not he’d go easy on the Butcher at first. He was so caught up in it, he almost didn’t notice when the counter reached zero.

Berga took off before him, easily gliding down the road with no apparent issues with controlling the bike.

He’d chosen helmets with comms in them so he could talk the Butcher through things, but as he sped after him, it became more and more apparent his guidance wasn’t necessary. When Berga leaned into the first turn, lowering himself closer to the ground than most established racers, a prickle of suspicion stabbed at Madden.

“Jekyll,” he purred into the comms as he pulled up beside him, gaining ground only to lose it again. “Something you want to tell me?”

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