“Shit,” Mel hisses. “Blaze, I’m sorry. I just noticed?—”
Blaze goes completely still beside me. “Yeah, I see him.”
I follow Blaze’s gaze.
A tall man, with thick hair and a strong nose, wearing a dark blue tailored suit. In another twenty years, Blaze might look like him.
George Bouchard.
He’s accompanied by two large bodyguards. I wonder which of these is the impenetrable “Isaac.” They’re both blond and pale, like they were cloned in some Scandinavian bodyguard factory.
“See who?” Asch asks. “Allers?”
“Blaze’s dad,” Mel reports quietly, like she’s afraid that if she raises her voice even a little, he’ll notice her.
Maybe she can’t handle this, but it’s too late now.
Weneedher.
“Okay,” I say. “Allers should be here soon. He’s supposed to give his speech after Peyton and Carleton are done, right?”
“He was supposed to give his speech before it all started,” Pandora corrects. “Where is he? Hehasto be here.”
I’m surprised to hear Bobbi respond, “He likes to be fashionably late, princess. I’ve got eyes on him. He’s almost there.”
Eyes on him? Bobbi had been vague about what she was going to do, other than murder everybody involved in her and her sister’s kidnapping.
The bell rings to signal the end of a fight. I can’t tell if Carleton or Peyton won. A large part of the crowd cheers, though, so it must have been the fan favorite.
“Guys, I don’t want to keep announcing,” Anastasia complains. “It’s hard enough keeping track of the other stuff.”
Blaze shakes his head, then says, “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He grabs one of the mics on the nearby table, tests it, then walks over to the cage.
“What a fight! Let’s give it up for Carleton!” he says as he gestures to the winner. “I hope you all got your bets in, because that was just the start of our program! Every dollar wagered goes toward the Kappa Alpha Sigma Fraternity. And whoever wins the most bets gets to name the new building, and have the image of their choice engraved on one wall. Within reason, of course. We have to keep it safe for campus eyes.” The audience laughs at the joke. Blaze grins wider and waves to them as he circles to see everyone. “You all know the frat song, right?”
The stupid song that I’d had to memorize, all for an initiation that never happened for me.
The people in the crowd seem hesitant, but at Blaze’s prompting, they break out into the song. The other Kappa Alpha members standing near me sing, too.
Brotherhood above all else.
Raise each other up.
We stand successful together.
I didn’t think it was quite that literal.
When the song ends, Blaze laughs. “Thanks for indulging me, folks. Now, our next fighters are?—”
“Oh! He’s here!” Mel announces.
I whip my head toward the entrance. The bleachers mean there’s a much clearer view of the entrance now than there would have been under other circumstances.
John Allers walks through with one man in a dark suit at his side. John Allers himself is in casual clothes, in the style of fifteen years ago like he’s clinging to his fading youth. His light brown hair is styled messily, and even though he’s smiling, I wonder if his eyes have the same dead look as in all the photos.
Blaze pivots in Allers’s direction. “Our next fighters will have to wait, actually, because our guest of honor is here!”
