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Dean is the boy I saw outside the stables the night of the Halloween dance. I pointed him out to Zoe a week later, and she shook her head, saying, “That’s Dean Yenin. Stay away from him.”
“Why?” I said, out of curiosity, not because I had any intention of speaking to him. With the exception of Zoe’s friends, I never approach upperclassmen.
“He’s Leo’s cousin,” Zoe said. “But they hate each other. Their families are enemies. They came to school already wanting to kill each other. Then they both fell for Anna.”
That was so intriguing that I had to know more. Having something of a girl-crush on Anna myself, I could perfectly imagine the kind of obsessive rivalry she might inspire.
“Did Anna like Dean?”
“At first,” Zoe says. “Until she got to know him. He’s dangerous. He tried to kill Leo—he’ll fuck with you just for being Leo’s friend.”
“I don’t think he knows I exist. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it that way,” I promised Zoe.
So I watch Dean and Leo from a table away, careful not to stare too obviously.
“Yeah,” Leo says, trying to keep his temper. “You’re one of the best fighters. So I?—”
“One ofthe best?” Dean scoffs. “I am the best. And it’s not close.”
Leo grits his teeth, torn between his desire to argue and his need to secure Dean’s cooperation.
“You’ll do it, then?” he says.
Dean doesn’t answer immediately, savoring his power over Leo, the delicious dynamic of Leo forced to come begging for a favor.
“Who else are you picking?” he demands.
I don’t know whether that will influence his choice, or if he’s just curious.
“I’m not sure,” Leo says. “Maybe Silas Gray . . .”
Dean gives a curt nod, as if he was expecting that. “He fought well in the final challenge last year. But he’s not strategic. All size and rage.”
“Who would you suggest?” Leo says, half irritated and half actually wanting the advice.
Dean is silent a moment, thinking.
“Ares surprised me,” he says, at last.
Leo casts a swift glance back at my table, looking at Ares calmly eating a chicken salad three seats down from me. I fix my gaze on my own half-eaten food, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.
Over the din of the dining hall, I can just barely hear Leo’s lowered voice saying, “I don’t know if he’d want to.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think he’d like it. With everybody watching.”
“He’s shy?” Dean sneers.
“I dunno. I haven’t asked him. Who else would you suggest? We need three.”
“Aren’t you picking yourself?” Dean queries.
“Not necessarily,” Leo says. “I can fight, but I’ve never done it in a ring.”
“Hm.” Dean sounds surprised that Leo wouldn’t jump on the chance to put himself in the spotlight. He’s mildly less irritable as he says, “What about Kenzo Tanaka? Or Corbin Castro?”
I sneak another glance at Dean. This is the first time I’ve seen him and Leo in close proximity without open aggression. Their expressions are curiously alike as they consider the problem.
