Going Down in Flames (Entangled Teen)

by Chris Cannon

  Zavien crossed his arms and waited. She ignored him and ate more popcorn.

  Clint raised a hand. “I want to know.”

  “It’s Bryn’s business. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Ivy dished out more caramel corn.

  “Do they have real food?” Bryn grabbed a menu from the napkin holder. “I’m ready for lunch.”

  “What a surprise,” Zavien said.

  She flipped him off and perused the menu. “Do you want to eat here, or should we go someplace else?”

  “Here’s good,” Clint said. “The burgers are great.”

  A waitress took their order. Ivy talked about what she’d bought at the art store. Bryn opened the book she’d purchased and read the introduction.

  “I could teach you to draw,” Zavien said.

  Interesting proposition. “Would you yell at me, or would you be nice?”

  “Knowing how you make me feel, I’d probably use a combination of both approaches.”

  “No thanks.”

  He reached over and touched her arm. “I’m sorry about the dress. I should’ve said you looked nice, but I don’t understand why you bought one.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Being around you is exhausting. You’re like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute you’re nice, and the next minute you’re obnoxious.”

  He stroked her forearm with his fingertips. Warmth spread up her arm. Was the touch calculated or innocent? Did he know how she felt? Was he manipulating her again?

  “I feel responsible for you. I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”

  It was time to take a stand. “You’re not my father or my brother.”

  He snatched his hand away. “This isn’t a discussion we can have in public.”

  “Fine.”

  Their food arrived. Bryn made short work of her hamburgers. Ivy and Clint kept up a constant chatter to diffuse the tension that crackled in the air.

  After finishing his meal, Zavien stood. “I’ve some business to attend to. I’ll see you back at school.”

  Irritation surged through Bryn’s system as she watched him walk away.

  Clint cleared his throat. “Now that he’s gone, tell me about your new friend.”

  Bryn dragged a French fry through ketchup and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before answering.

  “He seemed to think I was going to be a great artist because he offered to be my benefactor. It didn’t make sense.”

  Clint cursed.

  Ivy slammed her drink down on the table.

  “What?” Bryn asked.

  Clint uttered more profanities and then elbowed Ivy. “Tell her. She needs to know.”

  Ivy toyed with her straw. “He wasn’t offering to fund your art career after you graduated. He was offering to keep you as his mistress.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bryn shot to her feet, knocking her chair over. That son of a bitch. White-hot rage exploded through her body. Flames roared in her gut. Sparks shot from her nostrils with every exhalation.

  “Calm down.” Ivy caught her left arm and held fast. Clint took hold of the right.

  It took great effort to speak without shooting flames. “Let go.”

  Ivy shook her head. “No way. If we let go, you’ll find that man and attempt to beat him to death with your book.”

  “So?” It was a good plan. She liked it.

  “I don’t want to spend my weekends visiting you in jail,” Clint said.

  “You have every right to be upset,” Ivy said.

  “Upset?” Bryn laughed. “I’m way past—” A five-inch fireball popped out of her mouth on the last word, surprising her and startling her friends. Realizing she was close to losing control, she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and visualized snow to tamp down the blaze.

  “Sorry about that. Please let go. I need to fly…to escape for a while.”

  “Stay close to school.” Ivy pried the book from Bryn’s fingers. “We’ll take your things back and put them in your room.”

  Bryn stalked outside, shifted, and took to the air, gliding on the currents.

  Stupid arranged marriages. Stupid Directorate. Stupid, damn dragons.

  Furious didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Did she seem that desperate? Why would Merrick assume she was open to that type of relationship?

  If she spotted him, she’d blast him to a cinder. And then she’d be the one going to jail because being a presumptuous, adulterous asshat was legal in polite dragon society, while flash-frying said asshats was not. She roared in frustration. What would happen if she kept flying? If she flew to Vegas or Los Angeles or someplace where weird was accepted, could she make a life for herself away from all this mess?

  She could, but things wouldn’t go well for her parents. Ferrin was a spiteful bastard, and he’d probably go after her mom and dad for the sheer enjoyment of it. And even though she was mad at her parents, she didn’t want to abandon them. This was all so frustrating.

  Since there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about her situation, she focused on the sensation of the sun warming her wings. She imagined the air currents carrying away her anger. As she flew in slow, lazy circles, the fury inside her dropped to a manageable level.

  A flash of water below caught her attention. A quick check of her surroundings showed Dragon’s Bluff to the left and the Institute to the right, which meant she was still on school property. Tucking her wings, she aimed for a large, flat boulder in the middle of the lake.

  She hit the moss-covered surface too hard. Her claws scrabbled for purchase. Extending her wings for balance, she barely kept from going snout-first into the water.

  “That was not impressive,” a husky dragon voice announced.

  Bryn whipped around. Two Orange dragons stood on the edge of the lake. “Never tried that before. It was harder than I thought.”

  “Who are you?” the closer dragon asked.

  “Who’re you?” Bryn shot back.

  “There are two of us at school,” the male dragon said. “It shouldn’t be hard to figure out.”

  “There’s only one of me.”

  The closer Orange dragon squinted. “I thought it was a trick of the light. The edges of your scales are blue.”

  “Bryn? What are you doing here?” the male asked.

  She sat on the boulder and spread her wings to soak up the sun. “I was in Dragon’s Bluff and decided to check out the forest. This isn’t private property, is it?”

  “No, it’s open land,” he said. “I’ve never seen you without your tattooed friends.”

  “Sometimes it’s nice to be alone.” Uh-oh. Maybe they felt the same way. “Am I interrupting? Would you like me to leave?”

  “No, Vivian and I were enjoying some time away from school. You’re welcome to stay.”

  “Thanks.” His name escaped her.

  “Octavius,” he said.

  Vivian climbed into the water. “We come here to swim. The chlorinated water in the gym pool burns my nostrils.” She moved through the water with ease, undulating her body like a dolphin.

  “Is that hard?” Bryn asked.

  “You’ve never swam?”

  “Not as a dragon.”

  “You glide through the water the same way you glide through the air.”

  Bryn stepped off the boulder, attempted to glide in the water, and slid beneath the surface. Flapping her wings, she gasped for air.

  Octavius laughed.

  “I’m making a great impression today.” She tread water with her wings. Once she mastered that, she tried to undulate like Vivian and ended up performing an awkward dragon dog paddle.

  Octavius barked at her. If Jaxon had done that, she’d have lashed out at him. There wasn’t any malice behind the Orange dragon’s teasing, though.

  When the sun sank low in the sky, Vivian climbed out of the lake. “We best return to school. It’s not safe to be out at dusk.”

  Bryn climbed out of the water. “Why not?”

&nb
sp; “They say rebels inhabit the forest.” Octavius used his deep voice to great effect. When he spoke, it sounded like a movie trailer.

  “What do we have here?” a new voice asked.

  Good question. Bryn turned to find half a dozen Black dragons emerging from the trees.

  Octavius struck a regal pose. “We were enjoying the lake. What business is it of yours?”

  The lead Black dragon shifted to human form. He was tall and thin with wild black hair that reached his shoulders. Tattoos covered his bare torso and dipped into the worn jeans slung low on his hips. He moved toward them on bare feet, reminding Bryn of a panther stalking its prey.

  Inclining his head to the side, he sniffed the air. “No offense, brother. It’s unusual to run across your kind.”

  Octavius shifted to human form. Thick muscles rippled under his bronze skin. “I’m Octavius and this is my mate, Vivian. Bryn is a fellow student.”

  “You’re students from the Institute.” The dark-haired man studied Bryn. “You’re the mixed breed.”

  Now he resembled a panther that had spotted a rabbit he wanted to toy with. Feeling safer in dragon form, Bryn stayed as she was. If that was rude, too bad.

  “I prefer hybrid.”

  “Forgive me.” The dark-haired man laughed. “My colleagues and I were coming to cool off in the lake. Perhaps you’ll stay and join us?” He swept his hand in an arc, like he was including all three of them in the invitation.

  No way. This guy scored high on the weird and creepy scale.

  “Thank you for the offer,” Octavius said. “Homework beckons.”

  The dark-haired man held his hands out to both sides. “You have my sympathy. Eventually, you’ll be free from the Institute. Maybe we’ll spend the day together then. I’m sure we’d have much to discuss.”

  “I’m sure we would.” Octavius shifted. “For now, we abide by their rules.”

  Vivian pushed into the air. Bryn followed while Octavius stayed behind. Was he guarding their retreat, or did he have something to say to the strange Black dragons?

  After a heart-pounding flight, Bryn and Vivian landed inside the back gate. True to form, Bryn hit the ground hard, sending up a spray of dirt. Octavius joined them a few moments later.

  “Bryn, will you tell your friends of this?” He spoke in a low voice.

  “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

  Octavius stepped closer. “Did you notice the leader’s tattoos?”

  “I was too far away to tell what they were.”

  “They depicted a battle where Black dragons dominated Blues.”

  Not good. “Did we just have a friendly chat with the rebels who’ve been setting Directorate members’ houses on fire?”

  “It’s possible.” Octavius put his arm around Vivian’s shoulders and pulled her close. “They could be members of the Revisionists. Either way, we can’t afford to be associated with them.”

  “If I need to mention it, I won’t involve you.” Not that she wanted to mention it. Zavien was annoyed enough already. She doubted the Institute was unaware of who dwelled in their forest.

  On the walk to her dorm, Bryn reviewed her day. She’d gotten a knight, a dress, a creepy Prince Charming who wanted to keep her as his mistress, and scary new friends in the forest. What she needed was a damn date for the dance.

  In her room, she found the shopping bags Ivy and Clint left for her. Thank God her dorm was unoccupied. She wasn’t in the mood for any of Zavien’s condescending crap.

  After hanging up the copper dress, she grabbed the art book. The price sticker showed it cost twelve dollars. Using her laptop, she wrote Merrick a letter explaining she’d never have a benefactor. She didn’t need one and was opposed to the entire concept. If he uttered the word “benefactor” around her again, he’d end up a charcoal briquette. There. She couldn’t make the message any clearer. Satisfied, she printed it and enclosed twelve dollars as a refund.

  Feeling better, she neatly printed his address on the front of an envelope, which she’d found in the top drawer of her desk. A thorough search of the desk didn’t produce any stamps, but there had to be a post office somewhere on campus.

  The lake had been fun, but the smell of algae and decaying leaves clung to her skin. A quick shower later, she smelled like lemon meringue pie. Dressed in a lime green bra and underwear decorated with hot pink flamingoes, she felt cheery. When she walked into her bedroom, voices from the living room caused her to freeze.

  “Hello?” she called through the door.

  “It’s us,” Ivy called back.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Bryn.” Zavien’s voice conveyed irritation. “We need to talk now.” The door swung open, and he stood there, staring.

  “Get out of here.” Bryn’s face flamed.

  Eyes wide, he whipped around and left, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Oh. My. God. That did not just happen.

  She loved her wacky underwear, but she never expected anyone else to see her flamingoes, much less Zavien. Why couldn’t she have been wearing something sexy? Stomping over to her armoire, she ripped a black T-shirt off the hanger, pulled it over her head, and jammed her arms into the sleeves. She grabbed faded jeans and shoved one foot through, hopped, and shoved her other foot through. After finger combing her hair, she walked into the living room.

  Zavien opened his mouth to speak.

  “Not a word.” She pointed her finger back toward the bedroom. “About that.”

  He bit his lip and nodded.

  “What’s so damn important you couldn’t wait out here?”

  He held the envelope addressed to Merrick. “What’s this?”

  She snatched it from his hand. “None of your business.”

  “He works for the Directorate.” The way his eyebrows scrunched together told her he wasn’t thrilled about the situation. At least he wasn’t hollering.

  Setting the envelope on her desk, she sat in the hard, wooden chair. “I’ll tell you what this is about, but if you yell at me or make fun of me, I will lose it and burn this entire dorm to the ground. Do you understand?”

  “Got it.” Zavien’s face registered concern.

  “Merrick approached me in the art store. He asked how I planned to support myself after graduation. I thought he was offering to fund my art career.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I didn’t know the word ‘benefactor’ meant something else in the dragon world.”

  A low growl emerged from Zavien’s throat, and the hair on Bryn’s arms stood up as static electricity filled the room. He sat rigid with fists clenched, and his eyes stared through her. How did Black dragons control their breath weapons?

  “Give him a minute,” Clint said.

  Zavien closed his eyes. After a few moments, the electrical charge in the air dissipated. His posture relaxed. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not like I’m the queen of self-control,” Bryn said.

  “I’m not apologizing for my lack of control. I’m apologizing for bringing you into this mess. Maybe it would’ve been better if your family had run when you had the chance.”

  She’d already played through that fantasy. “The Directorate would’ve come after us.”

  “Maybe.” He ran his hand down his face. “But I led them to your door.”

  “That’s not true. Ferrin said the Directorate has known about me since the day I was born.”

  This news seemed to lessen his guilt. His fists unclenched. “What did you write in the letter?”

  She explained the message of her letter. “I refunded the price of the book because I didn’t want him to think it was a down payment.”

  “Send him the book.”

  “I want the book.”

  “Burn it and mail him the remains. You need to send a strong message.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’ll think it’s a game unless you make it clear you aren’t interested.”

  “
I’m sixteen. Of course I’m not interested. How delusional can he be?”

  “The Directorate makes it clear early on who they believe aren’t fit to marry,” Zavien said. “By the time those females graduate, they have their benefactors lined up.”

  “I don’t want a damn benefactor. Why would everyone assume I do?”

  “Most female dragons take what’s offered because they don’t have any other choice.” Zavien’s voice softened. “I’m not saying it’s right. It’s just the way things have always been done.”

  “I’m beginning to understand why someone keeps burning their houses down.” Bryn slumped in the chair. “I’ll burn the book. You can teach me to draw.”

  “Good.” Zavien shifted his head to the side and popped his neck.

  “There’s one more thing.” The talk of burning down houses reminded her of the Black dragons in the forest.

  “There’s more?” Clint asked. “How could there be more since we last saw you?”

  “It’s been a busy day,” Bryn snapped. “I met the Orange dragons in the forest.”

  “What were they like?” Ivy asked.

  “They’re nice.” She returned to the reason for bringing up this topic. “Zavien, have you ever met a Black dragon with a tattoo that covers his torso?”

  “Why do you ask?” There was a note of alarm in his voice.

  It was obvious he wasn’t being completely honest with her, so she returned the favor. “When we flew back from the lake, I saw a man with long, dark hair and a blue and black chest. I figured it must be a tattoo.”

  “I know of him and his friends. They’re the more radical members of the Revisionists.”

  “Should we tell someone where they are?” She hoped not. They didn’t seem like individuals she wanted to piss off.

  “They live in the forest. The Directorate knows where to find them. Please tell me this is your last confession for today.”

  Ivy raised her hand.

  “When did I become a teacher?” Zavien asked.

  “You’re crabby enough to be a teacher,” Clint muttered.

  Ivy cleared her throat. “Sending the charred remains of a book to someone who works for the Directorate might not be a smart idea when there is an arsonist at large.”

  “You’re so smart.” Clint put his arm around her shoulders.