Burning Bright (Going Down in Flames)

by Chris Cannon

  “That is all sorts of wrong,” Bryn said.

  “It is, which is why anyone found guilty of this crime had their wings amputated.”

  Bryn’s stomach rolled. “That thought literally makes me want to vomit.”

  “Right there with you.” Ivy clutched at her midsection.

  “The Directorate had to take a harsh stand against the felons who did this because apparently, Silvers can be oddly charismatic. They were adept at luring people to their cause. If the punishment wasn’t extreme, more dragons might fall prey to the cult’s radical ideas.”

  “What was their big sell?” Clint asked. “Come join us and suck the life from your classmates?”

  “The Silvers thought of themselves as the next step in evolution for dragons…a superior race.”

  “The Hitler of dragons,” Bryn said. “I guess humans don’t have the market cornered on racist egomaniacal hate-spewing dictators.”

  “Unfortunately,” Miss Enid said, “they do not.”

  Maybe that was another reason the Directorate screened bloodlines with such care. She couldn’t ask Miss Enid about that because her marriage contract had been denied due to something they’d found when they combined her blood with Mr. Stanton’s. And the Directorate, being the all-powerful council that they were, didn’t give an explanation why. But there was something else Bryn could ask.

  “Could I talk to you in private for a moment?” Bryn asked Miss Enid.

  “Of course.” She scribbled something on a Post-it note and passed it to Clint. “This is where you’ll find more information on the Silvers. Make certain that anyone you speak to knows that you believe the group was a bunch of radical terrorists. If it sounds like you admire them in any way, someone will probably drag you away for questioning.”

  “Understood,” Ivy said. She and Clint headed toward the back stairs.

  “What did you want to speak with me about?” Miss Enid asked.

  There was no way to bring this up without it being awkward. “I know that couples have been denied marriage due to the possible issues in their bloodlines, but I was wondering if one of those couples who never married…if they were past the age of having children, would they be allowed to marry if they still wanted to?”

  Miss Enid opened her mouth and then closed it. “I…I have no idea. No one has ever even mentioned…I’m not sure…have you spoken to anyone else about this?”

  “No. It’s just a question that popped into my head. Jaxon and I spoke of it, but he would never mention it to anyone else.”

  Was Miss Enid angry or confused? It was hard to tell. “I’m sorry if this was rude. It’s just with all the talk of marriage and hybrids and—”

  Miss Enid placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. No one who grew up in our culture would ever ask such a question. They wouldn’t even think it.”

  Since Miss Enid wasn’t angry, Bryn asked the next logical question. “Is getting married something you’d be interested in?”

  “I can’t even answer that right now, but you’ve given me something to mull over.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bryn joined Clint and Ivy on the third floor where they sat at a library table, flipping through what looked like newspaper articles bound together in giant black leather books.

  “Find anything interesting?” Bryn asked.

  “Disturbing as hell,” Clint said, “but interesting.”

  “Apparently the Hitler of this group, who was named Eric, had been extremely charming. He convinced students and adults to be donors for the dragons who were trying to evolve. He promised those who gave Quintessence would then be allowed to evolve once they recruited more donors.”

  “A Quintessence-sucking pyramid scheme?” Bryn said. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope,” Ivy said. “This Eric guy promised power and wealth and a crazy amount of dragons joined him.”

  “I still don’t get it. How does anyone agree to let someone suck their life force for money and power?” Bryn asked.

  “Medics use their life force. They willingly give it away to heal other dragons,” Clint said.

  “That’s completely different,” Bryn said. “As a Medic you heal, and do good, and then go chow down on a dozen chocolate bars or cookies. You don’t do it for personal gain…unless you count gratitude and some respect.”

  “True,” Ivy said. “Medics do what they do to help others. Silvers only wanted to help themselves.”

  “But both trade in Quintessence,” Clint said. “I’m just saying.”

  “You’re just being annoying,” Bryn said.

  Clint puffed his chest out with pride. “It’s my special skill set.”

  Bryn rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should aspire to something else.”

  “But it’s so much fun to piss people off,” Clint said with a good-natured grin. “Seriously though, I know that Medics and these Cult whack jobs are miles apart, but if Eric was trying to convince someone that it wasn’t a big deal, he could use an argument like that and some people might fall for it.”

  “And people believe strange things all the time,” Bryn said. “Like decaf coffee deserves to exist when it’s just useless brown water.”

  “Speaking of useless things,” Ivy said. “What are we doing for the Homecoming Gala this weekend?”

  Bryn laughed. “I thought you liked excuses to dress up.”

  “Dances and Galas are not the same. And while my enthusiasm for dances has decreased slightly since every dance we’ve had at this school has ended in some crap-tastic life-altering disaster, they are still better than Galas.”

  “Remind me what a Gala is,” Clint said.

  “Like Ivy said, we dress up and we stand around in awkward groups, pretending that we’re having a marvelous time while we have uncomfortable conversations with people we normally wouldn’t talk to. And as an added bonus, I’ll be attending with Jaxon and, since you’re my friends, you’ll be hanging out with us, sharing the joy of Blue small talk.”

  “Maybe we should rethink this whole friendship thing,” Clint teased.

  …

  Saturday afternoon, Bryn and Ivy hung out in her room trying on different outfits.

  “I can’t believe your grandmother had one of the boutiques ship these dresses to your room.” Ivy stood in front of the mirror, modeling a black silk dress that fit her like a glove on top and flared out at the bottom. “And I can’t believe she included some for me. This dress is amazing.” She twirled, and the dress spun out into a full circle.

  “I used to think Blues hoarded their money, but my grandmother is generous. So is Lillith.” Bryn checked her reflection. It was strange, but when she’d dated Valmont she’d picked out dresses she hoped he would think made her look good. She never tried to look special for Jaxon…because he’d always be prettier than her…which sort of sucked. Now she just tried to find dresses that looked appropriate for the occasion and gave her a boost of confidence. The navy spaghetti-strap dress she currently had on wasn’t doing the trick.

  “I am not feeling this dress,” Bryn said.

  Ivy pointed at a pale-green dress. “Try that one. I think it will look great with your skin tone.”

  “Most dresses don’t scream this-should-be-worn-with-pale-freckled skin.” Bryn tried the dress on. It had a wide boat neck and was made of some ethereal floating fabric that skimmed over her curves without looking clingy. She turned in front of the mirror. Since the dress wasn’t full it didn’t flare out like Ivy’s had, but it still made her feel good. “I think we have a winner.”

  “Time for hair and makeup,” Ivy said. “And since this is an early evening Gala rather than a late evening dance, I will skip the theatrical makeup.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to listen to Jaxon gripe about my level of taste.”

  “Is it just me, or has he backslid into being more of an asshat than he used to be?” Ivy asked.

  “It’s not just you.” Bryn sat on the edge of the bed while Ivy grabb
ed her makeup kit. “And I keep telling myself that he’s suffered a terrible loss and I need to cut him some slack, but there are times when I want to roast him.”

  “Totally understandable,” Ivy said. “I love Clint and there are days that I want to zap him. You’re forced to spend time with Jaxon and you two aren’t even really in a relationship…at least not the traditional sort.”

  “You make it sound like we’re involved in some strange affair.” Bryn closed her eyes as Ivy applied sea-foam green eye shadow.

  “How would you describe your situation with Jaxon?” Ivy asked.

  “It’s like we’re teammates who tolerate each other. Occasionally, it seems like we’re friends.” Bryn felt a lump rise in her throat. “There are days where I can’t believe I’m going to have to marry him. I keep hoping something will change, but I’m pretty sure it won’t, and if I think about it too much I have to breathe into a paper bag so I don’t hyper-ventilate in desperation.”

  “At least he seems to respect you. That’s a good start. Maybe something good will come of it in the end.”

  Bryn opened her eyes. “I’ve always counted on your honesty in all things. Please don’t start lying to me now.”

  Ivy sighed. “I’m trying to be optimistic.”

  “Thanks. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Okay.” Ivy dug into her makeup kit. “Do you want regular dark green eyeliner or dark green eyeliner with glitter?”

  “What the heck,” Bryn said. “Glitter me up.”

  Half an hour later, Clint knocked on Bryn’s door. When he saw Ivy his face lit up just like it always did. “You look amazing.” He grabbed Ivy’s hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

  Bryn looked away to give them a moment. Another knock sounded on the door. Jaxon would be on the other side looking handsome and annoyed. He might tell her that her dress was pretty, but his compliment would be fake…just part of the Blue dragon code of conduct and would have nothing to do with her or how she actually looked in the dress. No. Stop it. I will not indulge in a pity party.

  Taking two quick strides across the room, she opened the door. Jaxon wore a tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist and made him look like he should model high-end clothing for a living. If only he didn’t look perpetually pissed off.

  “Hello, Jaxon.” She stepped back so he could enter the room. “Are you ready for an evening of fake fun and boring small talk?”

  “We should go,” he said without looking at her or acknowledging that she’d spoken.

  “I was trying to be funny,” she said.

  “Trying and failing,” he shot back. “And I refuse to fake politeness until we’re at the event. So let’s go.”

  “You might want to dial back the attitude,” Bryn said.

  “I’m not giving you attitude. I’m being realistic. We played this game all summer and I’m tired of pretending that life is wonderful. I will smile and nod when we’re in public, but I see no need to fake my feelings in private.” Jaxon stalked out the door.

  Bryn fantasized about blasting him. She turned to Clint and Ivy. “It’s like he doesn’t realize that I could kill him, incinerate his body, and scatter the ashes where no one would ever find him.”

  “And we’d totally be your alibi,” Ivy said.

  “Good to know.” They exited Bryn’s room and she hurried to catch up with Jaxon while Clint and Ivy stayed a few paces behind.

  “Just so you know,” she said. “I plan to smile, and nod, and bail as soon as possible.”

  “Finally, something we can agree on.”

  The Homecoming Gala was set up in a conference room located in the theater building. Like most school sponsored events, the students were splintered into groups by Clan. Unlike all the previous gatherings, there were now hybrids sprinkled among the groups. All except the Blues, of course. And she had been the one to change that, much to their annoyance.

  She followed Jaxon over to a group of Blues which included Quentin and his girlfriend. She smiled and nodded politely while they talked about the weather and the upcoming holidays, and absolutely nothing of any consequence. Small talk was so boring. What was the point? No one cared that much about the weather. It took effort to focus rather than slip off into a daydream.

  They worked their way around the room and engaged several other couples in the same meaningless conversations. Bryn participated as little as possible, which seemed to suit everyone just fine. When the most recent conversation reached a lull, Bryn spotted Garrett standing with a group of Greens. “I’m going to say hi to a friend. Coming?”

  “No thank you. We can meet up later,” Jaxon said.

  “Works for me.” Bryn headed across the room to Garrett. His left arm still hung in a sling, but his eyes no longer looked haunted. Working on the prosthetic wing and regaining the ability to fly had given him a renewed interest in life.

  “Hello, Bryn.” Garrett smiled like he was happy to see her. That was nice. And they would actually have something interesting to talk about.

  “How’s your work on the wing going?” she asked.

  “It’s great,” he said. “Actually, I’d love to show you how far it’s come since you helped me test it. If you’ll meet me out at the stadium after dinner tomorrow evening I can give you a demonstration.” He glanced across the room at Jaxon. “It would be best if you came without your other half.”

  “Gladly. Do you care if Clint and Ivy tag along?”

  “No,” Garrett said. “They’re friends.”

  And Jaxon wasn’t. It was pretty simple when she thought about it. Over time, would Jaxon become friends with her friends? Who knew? It might make her life easier. Then again, she didn’t want to hang out with his Blue friends, either. Maybe it was better if they kept their social lives separate.

  “I’ve been working on other prosthetics,” Garret said. “For dragons who have issues with their legs.”

  Most dragons who suffered wing injuries had corresponding injuries to their legs like Rhianna had had. A small percentage, like Garret, had injuries that corresponded to their upper extremities.

  “That’s great,” Bryn said. She’d been told that her father had suffered damage to his legs, not that she’d been allowed to see him for herself, which was a whole other irritating topic of conversation. Still, it was good to know that Garret might be able to help him fly again.

  “How is your Medics class going?” Garret asked.

  “So far so good,” Bryn said. “I’ve been talking to Janelle. She seems nice.”

  “She mentioned that you’d talked,” Garret said. “Honestly, I think she’s a little intimidated by you.”

  Bryn laughed. “You have no idea how ridiculous that sounds to me. I feel like my life is this crazy roller-coaster ride where the lap bar doesn’t work and I’m trying to hold on for dear life.”

  Garret nodded. “I understand that because I’ve known you since you first came here, but to other dragons you’re an outsider that came in, kicked ass, and somehow ingratiated yourself to the two most powerful Blue families.”

  “I guess it’s all a matter of perspective,” Bryn said. “My grandparents have been great, but the whole situation with Jaxon makes my head spin on a daily basis.”

  “Do you trust him?” Garret asked.

  “Yes.” She didn’t even have to think about it. “He may be cranky and snobby sometimes…make that most of the time, but if I need his help he’ll be there for me. He’d probably complain loudly the entire time, but he’d be there.”

  Garret grinned. “That sounds like an accurate description.” He glanced past her and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak with. I’ll see you tomorrow evening at the stadium.”

  Now what? Bryn plastered a fake smile on her face and checked out her options for conversation. There wasn’t anyone she was dying to talk to. Jaxon was conversing with yet another group of Blues. Clint and Ivy sat at a table drinking coffee and eating cookies. That seemed
like a much better way to spend her time, so she headed over to join them, stopping at the buffet along the way to pick up half a dozen chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and some coffee.

  As she sat down, Clint said, “How long do we have to stay here?”

  Ivy poked him on the shoulder. “We’ve only been here half an hour.”

  “And that’s about twenty minutes too long,” Clint said.

  “I feel your pain.” Bryn stirred sugar into her coffee. “I think the Gala is supposed to last two hours. I say we sneak out in thirty minutes.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Clint said. “Do you have to check with your other half?”

  Bryn rolled her eyes. “Probably.” She glanced over where Jaxon had been talking to Quentin and a few other Blues. Now he was talking to a Blue female she didn’t know. They appeared to be deep in conversation, with their heads close together.

  “Who’s that with Jaxon?” Ivy asked.

  “I don’t know.” And something about how the girl smiled at Jaxon bothered her. That was ridiculous. He was probably making standard Blue small talk.

  “Did you and Jaxon set any ground rules for your sort-of relationship?” Clint asked. “Because that looks a little too friendly.”

  Okay. It wasn’t just her. “We haven’t really defined our relationship.” It’s not like she expected what was going on between them to be real, but she certainly didn’t expect him to see other people, either. Some students dated discreetly while they were in school even after their marriage contracts were approved. Jaxon had had that sort of arrangement with Rhianna before she was injured. Afterward, he’d spent all his time taking care of her and they’d fallen in love.

  Did she really need to talk with Jaxon about not seeing other people? It’s not like they were seeing each other, but still. She leaned in and spoke quietly to her friends. “How in the hell am I supposed to even bring this up to him? Before, I had Valmont and he had Rhianna. Now neither of us has anyone, but the way that girl is touching his shoulder is really pissing me off.”

  “He’s not interested,” Clint said. “You can tell by the way he’s backed away from her when she’s tried to come closer. Maybe you should go rescue him.”