“If it isn’t Nyx.” Sylph wiped her forehead with her arm. “You here to fight?”
The crowd went ballistic. Chase could already hear the chatter at breakfast tomorrow: The Streaker pilots beat the snot out of each other. They’re cracking under the pressure!
“No more fighting.” Chase nudged Tanner with her knee. “Your work is done here.”
“It’s done when he stops running his mouth about my RIO,” Sylph said.
Chase felt like she’d stepped in a bucket of ice water. Of course. This was about Riot. And Chase.
Chase and Riot.
“Tanner,” she said like a curse.
“So you know my name again. Convenient.” Tanner glared past her, aiming his murder eyes at the ceiling. Blood trickled from a cut on his eyebrow. He’d been so sweet when they were doing…whatever they had been doing…but since then, Tanner’s attitude had woken like a pissed-off dragon.
He spat. “I don’t need your pity assistance, Nyx. If you really want to help me, tell everyone you’re screwing Sylph’s RIO.” Oh hell. “So she can stop calling me a liar.”
Chase heard Tanner’s voice, but she leaped over his words like a broken step. It was harder than usual. She waved over a couple of freshman cadets, some of her ground crew fan club. They dragged Tanner beneath the rope. Chase turned back to Sylph. “I mean it. This is done. You have a problem with him again, you take it up with me.”
“Gladly,” Sylph said. Man, the girl could grin daggers, but the look was only a stunning preamble to the left hook she aimed at Chase’s face.
Sunburst of pain, and the crowd sung a cheer.
Chase fell to one knee. Her lower lip pulsed, but she forced a smile. Somehow her adrenaline found a hidden reserve and zapped it through her veins. “Sylph, how are we ever going to fall in love if you keep hitting me?”
Sylph’s glare sharpened. “You better strap in, Nyx. We have business.”
Chase hopped up. “Look, there are bigger things going on than Riot and me.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about that ridiculous stunt you pulled today. How could you?” Sylph’s anger made her seem more human than her chilled-marrow demeanor usually allowed. Chase shrugged and her shoulders felt like concrete.
Sylph stood back and called out to quiet the room. “Nyx here decided to do a suicidal maneuver over land today. Where people live. She could have crashed into someone’s house. Killed their kids.”
Chase wasn’t that surprised by Sylph’s deliberate cruelty. She was always this hard. A competitor. Merciless. It made Sylph a precise pilot and the furthest thing from a friend that Chase could imagine, although Kale seemed to think they were buds.
She could see where he misread the situation. Sylph and Nyx had been on each other’s tails since the brigadier general announced the Streaker project freshman year. They’d battled in tandem through rigorous competition in order to gain top cadet rank and win the chance to pilot Dragon and Pegasus. Now every hop, every class…wherever Chase was, Sylph wasn’t far behind. And vice versa. But the bottom line was that it had nothing to do with Sylph. Chase didn’t have auxiliary friends. She had Pippin, and he was enough.
“If the move was so suicidal, how come she’s still alive?” Tanner yelled over the ugly quiet. He stood against a pool table with an ice pack over one side of his face. Chase couldn’t decide if it mattered that Tanner must hate Sylph more than he hated her.
Chase touched her bottom lip, still aching from Sylph’s rather impressive left hook. She stepped closer to Sylph’s model-class beauty. The hum of eyeing her down felt like Chase was back in the air. Engines burning and wind locked around her wings. She gripped Sylph’s gloves in case the blonde was thinking about throwing another punch. “Forget the stunt and listen to me. Did you see anything today…anything up there?”
Sylph’s velvet brown eyes narrowed. “You’re really a piece of work, you know that? To fake out the whole base. To make everyone think you were crashing.”
Chase gave up. “Where’s Riot? Maybe he’ll listen.”
“I hope he’s getting checked for STDs.” Sylph’s look was full-out exasperation. “You really are hooking up with him. Couldn’t leave my RIO alone, could you?”
Chase didn’t have to answer.
“Nyx!” Riot bounded through the rec room. He leaped over the rope and wrapped Chase in a crush of a hug. “I went to your room to catch you. Pippin said you were in Kale’s office.” His face pressed to hers in a way that made her want to pull away, but she gave him a quick squeeze instead. “We thought you guys were going to die,” he said. “Didn’t we, Sylph?”
Chase let go. “Not even close,” she lied.
Riot was the tallest in their class but on the thin side for flight crew. He had an annoying habit of putting his chin on the top of her head, and yet he was quirky cute with kissable, full lips. “We tried to fly back out to you, but—”
Sylph elbowed him out of the way. “Keep it in your pants, Riot.” She used her teeth to peel off the Velcro that fastened the boxing gloves over her wrists. “Let’s go.”
“I need him for a few minutes,” Chase said.
Riot glanced between them with a small smile. “Now, ladies, not another knife fight.”
“Remember who won last time,” Sylph said. Chase flashed to a few days ago—their Streakers in an elbow-rubbing dogfight. Chase had been in the lead until Sylph wore her down into making a stupid turn and claimed missile lock on Dragon. That flight had been thrilling, but compared to her latest hop with Phoenix, it was nothing.
“Yeah. Right.” Chase searched for the fastest way to wrap this up, wanting to shake Riot for answers and maybe a little something extra. She got an arm around his waist, and he stared down with make-out eyes. Sometimes the boy was too easy. Okay, he was always too easy.
Even Sylph’s scornful expression had a polished air. “Wash him up before you send him back.”