There were more cheers, laughs, and well-wishes; then Devon and I filed out of the tent with the other competitors. Vance made kissy noises when I walked past, but I ignored him. Devon was right. Vance was a total jackass.
Several tables had been set up outside the white tent, which was serving as command central and the medical center, and we got in line with the other competitors. In an instant, everyone turned from cheery and loud to tense and quiet, their gazes cutting left and right, scanning the lines, and checking out the competition.
As the Sinclair bruiser, Devon got his share of speculative looks, but most folks were focused on Deah, who stood at the front of one of the lines, along with Blake and the rest of the Draconis.
Deah was dressed in a red T-shirt with a gold snarling dragon crest and matching shorts, just like the rest of the Draconis. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her gold cuff glimmered on her wrist. Instead of smirking at everyone like Blake was, Deah stared straight ahead, pretending she didn’t notice everyone staring at her. She didn’t seem to like being the center of attention any more than I did.
Each competitor was assigned a random number. Devon drew number seventeen, while I was number three. Naturally. Bad things always came in threes. I wondered if this was an omen that I wouldn’t do well in the tournament. Probably. But I pinned the paper number to my T-shirt anyway.
Once we got our numbers, there was nothing to do until the first event, an obstacle course. So Devon, Felix, and I ended up hanging around outside the Sinclair tent, watching the ebb and flow of people and pixies.
“You guys are going to do great,” Felix said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you both ended up facing off in the final round against each other.”
Devon groaned. “I hope not. Lila will kick my ass for sure.”
I lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You’d better believe it, Sinclair.”
He laughed and looked at me, and I found myself falling into his green, green eyes—
“Felix! There you are!” a voice called out.
The three of us turned to see Katia Volkov weaving through the crowd and heading our way. She bounced up beside Felix and gave him a dazzling smile, her dark red braid swishing across her back. Like everyone else, Katia was dressed in a Family T-shirt and matching shorts, dark green with the silver wolf head that was the Volkov crest. A matching silver cuff glimmered on her wrist, while the number thirty-three was pinned to her T-shirt.
“Hey, Katia,” Felix said.
He smiled, but it quickly turned into more of a grimace, and he dropped his eyes from hers and started glancing around the tents, probably looking for Deah.
But Katia had no idea that something was wrong and sidled a little closer to him.
“I haven’t heard from you lately,” she said. “We used to text all the time, but not so much anymore.”
Felix’s grimace deepened. “Oh, I’ve been . . . busy. You know, with school and Family stuff and everything. Haven’t you?”
Katia frowned. “Yeah, I guess.” Another sunny smile split her face, lighting up her hazel eyes. “But I thought that we could catch up after the tournament is over for the day. Maybe go over to the Midway, get some food, and . . . talk.”
“Oh, um, I . . . well, you see—” Felix stammered, trying to find an excuse to turn her down.
Whispers surged through the crowd, saving him from having to answer her. People moved aside, and Blake strutted over to us, along with the other Draconi competitors, with Deah trailing along behind them.
“Oh, look,” Blake said, stopping and sneering at us. “It’s the losers’ bracket.”
“Always nice to see you too, Blake,” Devon replied in a calm tone.
Blake’s brown eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why you guys even bothered to show up. Everyone knows that Deah’s going to win again. Isn’t that right, Sis?”
He nudged her with his elbow, but Deah wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, her gaze was locked on to exactly how close Katia was standing to Felix.
Her face turned as cold and hard as her brother’s. “Yeah. That’s right.”
Felix winced and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to explain himself to her, but he couldn’t do that with Blake and the other Draconis standing there.
Blake ignored the rest of us, his gaze moving up and down Katia’s body. “You know, I meant to tell you yesterday, but you are looking good as usual, Katia: too good to hang out with these losers.”
Katia looked at Blake, then Felix, then back at Blake. “Thanks,” she said in a neutral voice. “Good luck out there today.”
“Baby, I don’t need luck.” He smirked. “And neither do the rest of the Draconis. Come on, Deah. Let’s go tell Dad how much we’re going to enjoy beating these losers.”