Pikki pointed at Asta and repeated her witticism for him.
Felix’s eyes flitted over Asta’s racing kit. Then his self-serious expression broke, and he laughed. Actually laughed. At her.
Asta could feel a trembling begin in her chest. Both Felix and Pikki had their reasons to hate Asta. But they had no right to laugh at her. How was she supposed to know all the unspoken rules of this nepotistic hothouse of privilege? She was already an outsider here. Of the 200 riders competing at Silverscale, 177 were men. Asta could never be what Felix was– heir to the father-to-son legacy of an old racing house. Pikki, of all people, should understand that, but she was too busy sucking up to Felix. Once a sycophant, always a sycophant.
Asta had gotten herself to the Grand Prix. She had every right to be here, dressed however she wanted. How dare they laugh at her! Asta was glad that there were a good forty people standing between her and the Pillar alums, because she was angry enough to fight them all, right then and there. But fighting, she reminded herself, had not gone well for her last time. Instead, she lifted her hands to flip them off and stalked away to find Gem.
She met him on his way back to her, a drink in either hand and Yixin at his side.
‘What if, hypothetically, someone had taken Asta hostage, and the only way you could free her was to go up there and sing?’ Yixin asked. She smiled eagerly, waiting for Gem’s answer.
‘What are you talking about?’ Asta asked, taking one of the drinks from Gem. It was brown and a little cloudy. She tasted it. Hard booze and citrus. Perfect.
Gem shook his head. ‘Yixin wants me to storm the stage,’ he said, nodding at the podium. ‘She thinks I should sing something for the fine folks of Silverscale.’
‘That microphone is just sitting up there so lonely,’ Yixin said, casting a pitying look at the stage.
‘Tragic,’ Asta said. ‘But why am I being abducted in this scenario?’
Yixin shrugged. ‘Leverage.’
‘Yeah, but there’s a flaw in your plan,’ Asta said. ‘If Gem starts singing, I’m asking the kidnappers to keep me.’
‘Hey!’ Gem protested. ‘I’m a good singer!’
Yixin shook her head stubbornly. ‘Anecdotal reports will not suffice.’ She pulled at Gem’s arm. ‘I am a scientist. I require evidence.’
Asta let them go. Whatever was going on there, it wasn’t for her benefit.
At that moment, Natalia Bruce entered the ballroom. Asta watched her saunter toward a table near the back, a rag-tag assortment of family members in tow. Nat was in one of her bad-girl outfits, as Asta always thought of them, everything black and neon, artfully torn, pointedly risqué. This was the kind of thing she wore when she was luring a victim she meant to ravage and discard. Asta wondered who her target was tonight. Nat had teased her hair into an enormous crimped mane, swept back from her temples in dragon clips. The rest of the Bruce crew was in what passed for formal wear in their family. Vampirish dresses. Heavy black boots. Dark suit jackets. T-shirts with graphics of lightning bolts and screaming musicians.
The crowd pulled back to let them through, as if they radiated poison. Reaching the Bruce table, Nat draped herself in one of the chairs. She scanned the room until she caught Asta’s eye. There was something equally exciting and nerve-racking about being the center of Nat’s attention. She beckoned Asta over.
Nat was as unpredictable and hot-tempered as her uncle, but she was fearless in a way that thrilled Asta. Their first day training together, Nat had ridden her dragon, Vulture, right off the training tower before Hummer had finished explaining how to avoid hitting the false ladders stacked on the far side of the warehouse. Vulture was fine, but Nat had broken her wrist. She’d been back in the saddle by the afternoon with a cast and a grin.
‘Nice outfit,’ Natalia said with a wink, kicking out a chair from the table for Asta.
Asta sat with a groan. ‘I look like a hick.’
Natalia threw back her head and laughed. ‘Fuck that. You look amazing. Anyway, you want people to notice you at this kind of thing.’
‘Oh, sure. It’ll be all, “Who was that dork wearing her racing gear at the dinner?”’ Asta glanced over her shoulder toward the place where she knew the Pillar alums were standing.
A sharp kick to the shin whipped her head around.
‘Ow! Nat! That hurt!’
‘Stop whining, or I’ll do it again.’ Nat cocked her leg for another shot.
Asta gasped indignantly. ‘You are such a brat.’
Rather than drop her leg, Natalia extended it across Asta’s knees and brought the other up to join it, crossing her feet at the ankles. ‘You like it.’
Asta blushed.
Nat knew her flirting flustered Asta. That’s why she did it, as far as Asta could tell. She liked pretending she could add Asta to her list of ravage-and-discards whenever she wanted. But Nat was Asta’s closest friend right now, and Asta didn’t let herself fall for her friends anymore. She had made that mistake once already.
Asta wagged her finger at Nat. ‘Don’t be cute. You don’t give a crap what I like. You enjoybeinga brat. That’swhy you do it.’
