Dark Heart of Magic (Black Blade #2)(35)

“So, Katia,” Victor said, picking up his glass and swirling around the red wine inside. “Congratulations. Your performance in the obstacle course today was quite impressive. Your speed Talent served you well. I’ve never seen anyone move quite so fast before.”

His words were innocent enough, but he stared at her, his golden gaze sly, as if he knew some secret about her victory. But there was nothing to know. Katia had used her speed magic to win fair and square . . . right? That’s how it had looked to me. Then again, I hadn’t been up front with her and Deah.

For a moment, Katia chewed on her lower lip, worry filling her face, but then she smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Never thank someone for something you’ve earned by being smarter than everyone else,” Victor corrected.

Smarter than everyone else? What did that mean? The way Victor talked, it was almost as if he knew that Katia had somehow cheated. Even more puzzling, it seemed to make him happy, as if she’d done something that he heartily approved of, although I had no idea what it could be. Maybe she’d pulled the same sort of dirty tricks on Deah that Vance had on me. If so, you would think that Victor would be upset about that, instead of pleased.

“Your victory is one of the reasons I asked you and Nikolai here tonight,” Victor continued. “I always enjoy dining with winners.”

He arched his eyebrow and gave his daughter a pointed look, telling everyone that he didn’t consider her to be a winner tonight.

Deah’s lips twisted with misery, but she sat up straight and tried to rally. “Well, it’s always nice to have some competition. But it’s only the first day of the tournament. What matters is who is left standing at the end, right?”

Katia scowled at her, and Deah shot her a dirty look in return. Victor glanced back and forth between the two girls, nodding his approval. A smile curved his lips, and I realized that he was enjoying pitting them against each other. It was just another sign of his cruelty.

Deah’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up off the table and read the message on the screen. But when she realized that her father was still staring at her, she set her phone aside, dropped her head, and concentrated on her lasagna.

“I’m glad that Deah enjoys the competition,” Nikolai drawled. “Perhaps this will be the year when that competition finally beats her.”

His voice was pleasant enough, but his brown gaze was hard and expectant when he looked at Katia. She gave him a curt nod, as if promising that she wouldn’t let Deah defeat her again.

Victor’s smile widened. “Care to make a friendly wager on that?”

Nikolai reached up and stroked his brown beard, giving himself time to think. “What sort of wager?”

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something that will be to our mutual benefit,” Victor said, his voice smooth and seductive. “We are allies now, remember?”

“Mmm.” Nikolai’s tone was far more noncommittal.

The two men stared each other down, the silent tension between them growing and growing.

I looked back and forth between them, but the angle was too high for me to use my soulsight to see what they were really feeling. Still, Victor’s words troubled me.

Allies? Since when were the Draconis and Volkovs allies? The Volkovs were the third most powerful Family in town, behind the Draconis and the Sinclairs. Everyone knew that the Volkovs wanted the top two Families to destroy each other so they could step up and seize power. So what had changed to make Nikolai join Victor?

More worry rippled through me. Maybe Claudia was wrong. Maybe Victor wasn’t going to wait until after the tournament to strike out against the Sinclairs.

Maybe he’d already set his plan in motion—whatever it was.

Carl broke the silence by reaching out, grabbing a bottle of wine from the middle of the table, and filling his glass all the way to the brim with the blood-red liquid. Then he raised the glass to his lips and guzzled down all the wine like it was water and he was dying of thirst. Glug-glug-glug. He let out a happy sigh, smacked his lips together, and refilled his glass as quickly as he had drained it. He held up the full glass and used it to gesture at the others.

“You should take Victor up on his bet, brother,” Carl proclaimed in a loud voice, slurring his words. A few drops of wine sloshed out of his glass and stained the white tablecloth. “And you should bet a lot. Because my girl will win this year. She’s got a secret weapon. Don’t you, Katia?”

Katia’s cheeks flamed in embarrassment, and she gave her father a sharp, disapproving look, but he was too busy gulping down his wine to notice, much less care. A spurt of sympathy filled my chest. It was obvious that Katia’s father drank—a lot.

Victor’s eyes narrowed with interest. “Really?” he asked, his voice taking on a sly, knowing tone. “And what would this secret weapon be?”

Katia’s cheeks were still red, but she shrugged, trying to deflect the question. “I’ve just been training extra hard. That’s all. But my father’s right. It’s going to pay off. I know it will.”

She stared at Deah, waiting for the other girl to react to her challenging words, but Deah was busy checking her phone again, and she didn’t even glance at Katia. Apparently, talking about the tournament wasn’t nearly as important as whatever texts were on her phone.

Blake had been shoveling food into his mouth during the whole conversation, but he stopped long enough to snicker. “Looks like some folks don’t care about your training.”