Dark Heart of Magic Page 66


“Blake,” she said. “Leave her alone. I won. That’s the important thing, right?”

Blake gave her a cool look. “Of course you won. You were always going to win. You’re the best fighter in town. And now that you have won, you need to show everyone else what their place is—below you. Below us. Below all the Draconis.”

Deah bit her lip, looking back and forth between Blake and me. Her eyes cut to Felix for a second as well. She didn’t want to go along with Blake, but I knew she would. She always had before, even if she knew her brother was a bully and hated the way he looked down on everyone else.

She sighed. “Blake, let’s just go. Okay? There’s no need to be mean about things.”

He frowned. “You weren’t saying that last year when you won. You spent the whole night telling the other contestants to suck it, and rightly so, especially Katia. So what’s different this year? You won again, and we should celebrate. Why aren’t you on board with that?”

Deah glanced at me, and my soulsight kicked in, letting me feel just how much she was struggling with this. She might have won the tournament, but she hadn’t done it fairly, and it was eating at her. Her gaze fell to the gold cup in her hand, her fingers tightening around the handle.

“Come on, Sis,” Blake said, that sneer creeping back into his voice again. “Everyone knows that you’re the best. I just want to make sure these Sinclair losers realize it too.”

“They’re not losers,” she said in a soft voice, her fingers tracing over the snarling dragon crest stamped into the cup.

“Sure they are,” Blake said, his voice growing louder and louder. “Especially Morales. He didn’t even get picked by his own Family to enter the tournament because they all know what a loser he is. He wouldn’t have even made it through the first round. Scratch that. He wouldn’t have made it through the first minute without getting bounced out of the tournament.”

“Don’t talk about Felix like that,” Deah snapped. “He’s never done anything to you.”

Blake’s brown eyes narrowed. “And yet, you’re the one who’s always defending him. Why is that?”

Deah’s gaze flicked from Blake to Felix and back again, desperately trying to come up with some sort of answer.

I shot to my feet. “Maybe because she’s tired of you picking on him the way you do everyone else. I wouldn’t want to have to listen to you either.”

Blake stepped up so that he was staring straight down into my face. “Deah might have already beaten you in the tournament, but I can do it again. Right here, right now. Where it really matters. Where I can really make it hurt.”

What he meant was where he could give me the beating he’d been itching to dish out for weeks now, ever since I’d humiliated him at the arcade by putting him in that wrist lock in front of his friends.

But I wasn’t scared of Blake and his threats, and I laughed in his face.

“Please,” I scoffed. “You couldn’t beat me on your best day. And trust me. Today isn’t that day.”

Blake started toward me, but Deah stepped in between us.

“Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his chest. “Just calm down, okay? Let’s go back to our table and forget about them.”

Blake looked down at her, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. “Sure, we’ll go back. After you show her who’s really in charge around here. Go on, Deah. You beat her once. Do it again. And this time, really make it hurt.”

Deah bit her lip again, but she didn’t automatically say no. By this point, everyone was staring at us. The other Draconis had drifted over to the table, and they’d all gathered around, along with some of the kids from the other Families. Apparently, they didn’t want the tournament to end yet, or perhaps they just wanted to see a little more blood sport, because all the other kids formed a circle around us and started chanting Fight! Fight! Fight! in louder and louder voices, with Blake, of course, leading them.

I looked at Devon and Felix, and they both stared back at me, concern creasing their faces. But there were too many of the other kids around and not enough Sinclairs for them to do anything about Blake’s suggestion of a new fight between me and Deah. So I stepped forward into an open space a few feet away from the table, my hand on the hilt of my sword. If Blake wanted a fight, he was going to get one.

Blake put his arm around Deah’s shoulder and marched her forward. “Go on,” he repeated. “Show her how Draconis fight. Show her how Draconis end things, especially Sinclairs.”

He pushed Deah forward so that she was standing right in front of me. Panic and guilt flared in her eyes. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be here, but she was going along with her brother, just like always.

To my surprise, Deah shook her head and stepped away from me. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to fight her.”

“Why not?” Blake said. “It’s not like you’re scared of her. You already beat her once. You can do it again.”

Deah kept shaking her head, making her golden hair whip around her shoulders. She had the sick, panicked look of a wounded deer being hemmed in on all sides by a pack of hungry copper crushers and about to be dragged down and squeezed to death.

“No,” she said. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to fight her. You don’t understand.”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Why not? Just do the same thing that you did in the tournament and teach this bitch a lesson. What is there to understand?”

“Lila let me win!” Deah screamed.

Her voice echoed through the evening air, seeming to bounce from one side of the lake and back again. Suddenly, everyone was quiet and still.

Deah looked around, breathing hard, her cheeks red, realizing that she’d just shouted her secret to everyone. But she didn’t try to take it back. Instead, her spine straightened, and she lifted her chin and faced Blake again.

“I didn’t win the tournament,” she said, all her heartache apparent in her choking voice. “Lila was the better fighter. She could have won, but she didn’t. She let me cut her instead. Probably because she felt sorry for me. Isn’t that right, Lila? Don’t you feel sorry for me? The girl with the crazy mom, bully brother, and heartless dad?”

I didn’t say anything, but my wince was answer enough for her and everyone else.

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