“Well, maybe you can help me. I’m looking for someone—”

“Poppy ! There you are!” Felix’s voice rang through the air.

She made a face. “And it looks like I’ve found him. One of them, anyway.”

Felix hurried over to where we were standing, threw his arm around Poppy’s waist, and lifted her off the ground, making her laugh.

He put her down and gave her a critical once-over. “Look at you, all dressed up. I like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t get used to it because it’s not for you, loser. Where’s Devon?”

“Right here.”

Devon joined the three of us. For some reason, he now clutched a white rose in his hand.

“Hi, Poppy,” he said in a somewhat grudging voice, holding the flower out to her. “Are you ready for our date?”

I stared at the rose, which was small, delicate, and pretty, just like Poppy was.

“Date?” I asked, my stomach twisting.

Poppy and Devon stared at each other, their faces carefully neutral.

“Yeah,” Poppy said, taking the rose from him and twirling it around in her hand. “Our parents thought it would be a good idea for us to . . . go out. Before the big dinner next week for all the Families.”

“Because of everything that’s happened recently,” Devon added, his voice even quieter than hers.

My eyes narrowed. He was talking about his dad’s murder and the Ito Family’s supposed part in it. Suddenly, I realized who the girl was—Poppy Ito, daughter of Hiroshi Ito, the head of the Ito Family. So this was some sort of peace tactic then, some way for the Sinclairs and the Itos to show the other Families that they weren’t feuding.

“Some date,” I murmured.

The two of them grimaced.

“Well,” Devon said, holding out his arm. “We might as well go inside.”

“Yeah,” Poppy agreed, resting her hand on his arm. “Might as well get it over with.”

The two of them stepped up to the booth and bought tickets for themselves, as well as for me, Felix, and Grant, who had finally finished his conversation with the Volkov guards. Together, the five of us entered the arcade.

Like everything else on the Midway, the arcade was loud, bright, and colorful, with fluttering streamers, bobbing balloons, and flashing lights everywhere you looked. Games, rides, prizes, food. The arcade featured all that and more, although none of us was really interested in any of its offerings today. Our little group stayed together, aimlessly wandering around.

We weren’t the only kids here, and we passed more than a few who belonged to the other Families, ready to have a good time now that school was out for the summer. And they were all extremely interested in Devon and Poppy. More than a few of the kids whispered to each other, pulled out their phones, and snapped photos, before texting the juicy gossip about Devon and Poppy being seen together to their friends and everyone else in their Families.

I snorted. Sometimes, I thought the Families played more games with each other than there were in all of the Midway.

Poppy started talking to Felix, since his mouth was once again going a hundred miles an hour. Grant stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled along with them.

That left me to walk beside Devon. Every time he moved, I caught a whiff of his scent, that sharp, crisp tang of pine. Despite myself, I kept breathing it in, even though it was stupid of me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I imagine this isn’t what you were expecting.”

“Watching you go out on some fake date with a girl from another Family?” I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Devon fell silent, and we wandered through the arcade for ten more minutes before Felix insisted that Poppy had to have ice cream. She giggled as he bowed and handed her the tall, sprinkle-covered, vanilla-swirled concoction. She took a bite out of it, turned around, and accidentally rammed straight into a guy behind her, smearing ice cream all over his red shirt—one emblazoned with the gold Draconi dragon crest.

The guy was built like a brick wall—tall and wide, with a body that was all solid muscle. He looked down at the ice cream and sprinkles dripping off his shirt, then slowly raised his head. The sun warmed his blond hair, but his brown eyes were as cold as chips of stone in his face.

I sucked in a breath, recognizing the guy the same way I had his sister.

Blake Draconi, Deah’s older brother, the bruiser and second-in-command of the Draconi Family.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Poppy’s mouth opened and closed as she realized what she’d done—and to whom.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

But I had to hand it to her. She pulled herself together and held out a hand in apology.

“Blake! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you.”

At six feet, Blake towered over the petite, slender Poppy, and the twist of his lips told everyone how angry he was. And he wasn’t alone. Five guys, all wearing red Draconi T-shirts and gold cuffs, and all with swords strapped to their waists, formed a semicircle behind him. And Deah was here, too, standing off to Blake’s right, looking back and forth between her brother and Poppy.

Blake sneered at Poppy. “I didn’t know that Itos were blind. I thought they were just deaf and dumb.”

Poppy gasped at the insult, but she still tried to smile in the face of his anger, although her expression quickly wilted.

“Leave her alone, Blake.” Devon stepped up beside her. “It was an accident.”