Vampire Academy - all Richelle Mead's!

Dimitri forced that thought to the back of his mind but allowed himself to consider the possible freedom in relaxing his constant vigilance. He got caught up in the exercise after that, winning his matches faster and with more complicated fighting techniques, letting himself show off a little for Malina. She sat alone on the top step of the bleachers, shivering but smiling slightly, appearing completely oblivious to her Moroi classmates and to any novice other than Dimitri. Tonight she wore the same long green coat she'd had on the first night she'd come to his room. The color stood out, not because it was the most obvious color – Moroi fashion currently favored brighter hues – but because the green matched her eyes perfectly and offset her dark hair.

Malina smiled fully when she caught him looking at her – just a quick look, during a partner transition - and since Guardian Ershova was on the other side of the gymnasium he allowed himself a half smile in return. It was a small risk – Ershova was notoriously observant (privately, the dhampir students joked that her senses rivaled a Strigoi's) – but he took the chance, for her. His concentration didn't suffer; he easily blocked the opening attack from his newest partner.

He was in the middle of three back-to-back matches when he saw Zeklos leave his informal post and join the other Moroi on the bleachers. Zeklos greeted everyone equally and amiably, touching shoulders, grasping hands, even kissing a few cheeks but never slowing as he climbed the stairs. Dimitri continued fighting but tracked Zeklos's progress. His destination was obvious, especially to Dimitri: Zeklos's target was Malina.

Dimitri took a hard hit to the jaw – out of bounds, but he didn't even think to request the penalty. He shook off the blow and watched helplessly as Zeklos tried to talk to Malina. She didn't respond at first, but Zeklos tried again, attempting to catch her eye. Dimitri's attention fractured, he lost his first match of the night. Zeklos continued, quietly persistent – not that Dimitri expected otherwise. Malina seemed almost deliberately disinterested, craning her neck to see around Zeklos and answering only in monosyllables, but Dimitri couldn't allow himself hope as he prepared for his next opponent. He took only small comfort that Malina didn't immediately succumb to Zeklos's charm.

Two more opponents rotated through to spar with him and Dimitri's technique turned almost entirely defensive. He simply couldn't plan or carry out an attack and he lost both matches. He wasn't surprised, not really. Even if Zeklos was besotted with Katya he could still be practical, could still be laying groundwork for future partnerships with more suitable Royal Moroi girls. Dimitri could see that Malina and Zeklos would be an ideal match – he couldn't even be bitter about it. Zeklos's status was higher than Malina's, but her branch of the Ivashkov's was well respected and she was both smart and beautiful. Malina wouldn't resist him for long.

Supporting Dimitri's conclusion, Zeklos and Malina's next interaction only confirmed his fears and sparked something unpleasant, an old emotion – envy - he thought he'd long outgrown and buried. He watched Zeklos finally say something that caught Malina's attention – caught her completely off-guard and brought her shocked attention fully focused on him. The next thing he said made her laugh. Dimitri watched Malina as she looked then at Zeklos – really looked at him, not cautiously and distrustfully but with open speculation and consideration. She gave Zeklos a familiar, challenging smile, and whatever she answered made him laugh in return. Dimitri would have given a lot to know what they said, but knew it didn't really matter. He dove into his last match, but distracted and unbalanced, he lost anyway: four total losses after a near-perfect exercise.

Guardian Ershova called a break and allowed the novices a few minutes to hydrate and stretch before the next exercise. The extra classtime had allowed Ershova to set a grueling schedule. The first half of class had been an extended exercise where each novice rotated from mat to mat in a complicated, shifting pattern to fight every other novice, pairing them in rapid-fire battles meant to test their stamina, skill, concentration, and fighting multiple styles of attackers in short bursts of time. The second exercise was small-group mock battles, and while the novices took full advantage of the brief break, Nikitin and Matveev, Ershova's co-instructors, assigned them into balanced groups.

Circulating among the novices, Nikitin stopped at Dimitri's side. "Belikov, I want you on the track this weekend. Four losses, right at the end. Your stamina isn't what I thought it was."

Dimitri hated running, but at that moment he would have agreed to anything that got him away from Zeklos and Malina. "Yes, sir."

Nikitin assigned Dimitri to work with Sasha and a third novice, Viktor, and they started the exercise immediately, not wasting time waiting for the other groupings to be completed. The exercise was a familiar one and they worked well together, but a small movement off to his side drew Dimitri's attention back to the observing Moroi.

Zeklos sat next to Malina on the accordion aluminum bleachers, his long, lanky frame bent over, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. His hunched over posture minimized body heat loss in the unheated gymnasium - and brought his head closer to Malina's. While Dimitri watched, unable to tear his eyes away, avoiding a strike from Sasha only out of pure instinct, Malina swept her long dark curls back over one shoulder and leaned closer still. She and Zeklos were talking so quietly and intimately that the other Moroi had slid away slightly to allow them some privacy in their low, murmured conversation. They huddled together and their foreheads and knees nearly touched.

Dimitri nearly penetrated flesh with his wooden practice stake.

Nikitin stepped in between Dimitri, Sasha, and Viktor, and calmly redirected Dimitri's stake down to his side. They – and the entire rest of the Advanced Bodyguard class – were split into triads, taking turns role-playing Moroi, Guardian, and Strigoi. Each triad occupied their own practice mat, and the triads around them continued: attacking, protecting, and observing in turn. Dimitri tore his eyes away from Zeklos and Malina to find Katya, wondering if she could see. He located her almost immediately: across the floor near the entry doors, half a gymnasium away. She was in the middle of defending her "Moroi". She was blissfully unaware of Zeklos's behavior, and as much as Dimitri usually enjoyed watching her fight, under the circumstances he had to look away.

Sasha smiled good-naturedly, oblivious to Dimitri's lapse. "Go a little easier next time," he complained, rubbing his chest. "I'm no Strigoi but I'm pretty sure one of those things could still kill me."

"Sorry," Dimitri managed.

Nikitin checked Sasha's sternum under the thick leather chest guard. "No damage," he reassured Sasha. He turned to Dimitri, his voice sharp. Injuring one another accidentally was common in the novice training, a side effect of a curriculum based on fighting and defense. What was not common was hurting one another out of anger. Nikitin had caught Dimitri's loss of control, even if Sasha hadn't. "You're off tonight, Belikov. Do you need a break?"

"No, Sir." Dimitri shook his head and answered respectfully, but couldn't make eye contact. He also couldn't scream or rage or physically leap into the bleachers to pull Zeklos away from Malina. There was nothing he could do.

Nikitin watched him closely for a moment, then glanced away. "Take the Strigoi role this time," he directed.