by Chris Cannon
“The earrings and the shoes are a matched set.”
“I’m wearing diamond-encrusted shoes.” Bryn laughed. “My life is bizarre.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Who is it?” Bryn called out.
Merrick ducked his head in. “Are you ready?”
“I am. Is the Directorate ready to meet me?”
“They think they are,” he said, “but, I’d bet they’re wrong.”
“If you’ll lead the way, I have some serious arguing to do.”
He led her down several halls. Eventually, they came to an elevator.
“What happened to keeping the estate in its original condition?”
Merrick waved her on when the doors slid open. “Your grandfather doesn’t object to convenience as long as it doesn’t detract from the estate’s design.”
The doors closed, and Bryn felt the elevator rise before she noticed the buttons, which normally allowed occupants to pick a floor, were absent.. “I hope this thing knows where it’s going.”
“From this floor, it only makes one stop. If you access it from a lower floor, it takes you to different levels.”
“That’s weird.”
Merrick acted like it was no big deal. “It’s another form of security, which makes accessing certain areas difficult.”
When the doors opened, Bryn stepped out into a hall lit by an impressive chandelier, which had to be six feet wide. As she walked underneath, it swayed and the crystals tinkled together, creating an eerie sound. If it fell and crushed her before she could speak to the Directorate, she was going to be pissed.
Merrick led her to the double doors at the end of the hall and knocked. Her grandfather opened the door and stepped back so they could enter. She hoped the evil grin on his face meant he was amused.
Two long tables sat in the middle of the room, flanking a podium. As the Speaker for the Directorate, Ferrin stood behind the podium, while a dozen men sat on either side of him. Most of them were blondes. Of course there weren’t any women on the Directorate.
Chauvinistic jerks.
Now that she was here, she didn’t know where to go. There wasn’t a seat or podium to indicate where she should speak. She continued moving forward until Merrick touched her lower back. She took that as a sign she was in the right spot.
Praying for patience, she smiled politely and made eye contact with the men seated in front of her. A few smiled back. Most of them frowned or pretended she was invisible.
Unsure of protocol, she waited to be addressed.
Ferrin leaned on the podium like he was bored. “I thought you had something to say.”
She plunged in. “Someone thinks of me as a threat. As you can see, I’m not that frightening.”
A few Directorate members chuckled.
“I understand my existence is shocking to some. According to Mrs. Hanfelder, dragons can’t crossbreed, but I exist. And I shouldn’t have to apologize for that.”
She took a few steps to the right to escape Ferrin’s direct gaze. “I understand my parents broke the law when they ran away. Some individuals believe I should pay for their crime.”
“If you hope to gain our sympathy, it would be best not to mention your parents.” An elderly Directorate member pointed his finger at her. “What they did was a disgrace. You’re lucky we’ve allowed you access to the Institute.”
She snorted before she could stop herself. “I didn’t ask to come here. Mr. Westgate blackmailed me. If I refused, he said my parents would lose their home and their jobs.”
The elderly man addressed Ferrin. “Is this true?”
Ferrin gave a slight nod. “Perhaps.”
Several Directorate members laughed. The elderly man said, “That was a nice touch.”
Fire roared up her throat. She thought of lemon ice from Fonzoli’s and regained control. “Either you have a twisted sense of humor or you’re testing my self-control. Given my experience with Mr. Westgate, it’s probably both.”
It was time to show them who they were dealing with. She held her hands out, palm up. A ball of fire appeared in her right hand as a ball of snow swirled above her left. Several Directorate members muttered among themselves.
“I understand the Directorate oversees who can marry because they don’t want certain traits coming to light. I can make fire and ice. If that makes me a threat, so be it. In my opinion, it makes me unique.” She closed her palms and let her emissaries fade.
Some of the Directorate members huddled and spoke in small groups.
“Are you done showing off?” Ferrin snapped.
“Not quite. I plan to petition the Directorate to be allowed into the medical program, because I’m good with Quintessence.”
“Show us,” Ferrin ordered.
She could change her hair color, but her grandfather hadn’t been impressed with that. “I healed a scratch on Mr. Stanton’s hand. Merrick, if you’d volunteer.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fountain pen, the kind with a sharp metal nib, which was meant to be dipped into a bottle of ink. Holding out his hand, he scraped the pen across his palm, deep enough to draw a drop of blood.
“As you can see, he is bleeding.” Bryn said. Just in case Ferrin tried to argue the point.
“Get on with it,” Ferrin snapped.
Bryn wiped the drop of blood away with her thumb, exposing a red line, and imagined her life force flowing from her fingertip in a stream of bright white Quintessence. She traced her pointer finger back and forth over the wound until it healed to a thin, pink line.
“Who taught you how to do that?” one of the friendlier-looking men asked.
“My mother taught me visualization as part of yoga. I can visualize my life force, and I can channel it to change my hair color or heal minor injuries. Medic Williams thinks I’m a natural and would make a good medic.”
The Council members muttered among themselves.
“Who do you think is behind these attacks?” her grandfather asked.
“I have my theories, but I doubt they’d be popular in this room.”
“Enlighten us.” Ferrin’s eyes sparkled with malicious intent.
Bryn squared her shoulders. “The individuals who are most irritated with my presence are all Blues. At school, the other Clans have been a tad more accepting of me.”
Ferrin chuckled. “You challenged the Blue dragons to a race. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were behind the first incident.”
“I didn’t challenge anyone to a race. I was supposed to fly timed trials by myself. Your son and his friends turned it into a race. I flew for the sheer joy of flying. We flew several more races that day for the same reason. Your future daughter-in-law almost beat me. I like her.”
Ferrin growled. “Stay away from Rhianna. I don’t want you poisoning her mind.”
“I’m not the one who poisons people.” Bryn let the statement hang in the air, accusing Ferrin without actually saying the words.
Her grandfather cleared his throat. “Someone broke into my home and threatened the safety of my guests. I don’t believe a Blue dragon would do such a thing.”
“I don’t know who would break into your house. You’re quite intimidating.”
His chest puffed out like he was pleased with her response.
Bryn’s breath caught as she remembered Merrick’s words. “That bomb was designed to take out more than one person. If Jaxon and Merrick hadn’t been standing in the doorway, waiting to leave, they would’ve been hurt much worse. If all three of us had been gravely injured, I doubt all of us would have survived.”
She turned to Merrick. “Where’s Jaxon?”
“The last I spoke to him, he planned to take a walk in the garden with his mother.”
Goose bumps pebbled her arms. “What if the target wasn’t just me? Anyone who knew I was being sequestered in the library would have known Jaxon was there, too. Right?”
Her grandfather nodded. “You were both listed on the agenda.”
“What if the bomb wasn’t meant just for me? What if it was meant for him, too?”
“That’s absurd,” Ferrin snapped.
“Why? Because you’re so well loved?” She looked to Merrick. “Is there any security left on the estate?”
Merrick shook his head. “We moved everyone inside.”
Her grandfather pulled out his cell phone and spoke rapid-fire. Ferrin bolted for the door.
“Stay here,” Merrick ordered and ran after Ferrin.
Was he crazy? She ran after him and slid between the elevator doors before they closed.
Ferrin stood eerily still, staring straight ahead as the elevator descended. Without glancing her way, he said, “If anything happens to my son, you’ll wish that bomb had killed you.”
A shiver ran down her spine. She had no doubt he meant what he said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The elevator jerked to a stop, but the doors remained closed.
“Something’s wrong,” Merrick said. “We shouldn’t have stopped.”
Ferrin growled and attempted to pry the doors open.
“There’s a better way.” Merrick pointed at a panel in the ceiling and then clasped his hands together to make a step. “I’ll boost you up.”
Ferrin managed to knock the ceiling panel out of the way and pull himself through the opening. His face appeared in the hole. “There’s a maintenance shaft we can squeeze through. I’ll start in the gardens.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Merrick exhaled a stream of ice onto the floor, creating a platform. He held his hand out to Bryn. “Your turn.”
“You go first. I don’t know the grounds. You can find them faster. I’ll catch up.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Go.”
Using the block of ice as a step, he climbed out of the elevator.
Bryn shivered and stepped on the block of ice. She reached up to catch hold of the opening and pull herself up. The elevator doors slid open. That’s weird.
A blast of air tainted with mold, dust, and something acrid burned her nostrils. This must be a part of the estate no longer in use. Why would her grandfather let part of his home fall into ruin?
“Come out, mixed breed. We’ve much to discuss.”
The masculine voice sounded familiar. No way would she walk out there. She moved to the edge of the elevator and scoped out the room. Moonlight seeped through the windows lining both walls, giving enough light to see a dilapidated couch and molding chairs. She could make out an open set of French doors farther into the space and a neglected four-poster bed.
The other notable feature in the room was the giant chandelier, which hung suspended from the ceiling. Unlike the one outside the meeting room, this one was encrusted with spider webs.
A lantern flared to life, blinding her. Spots danced in front of her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision. Underneath the chandelier stood Alec, the Black dragon with the tattooed chest. His hair was wild and tangled. He wore the same ragged jeans she’d seen before.
This could be bad. Very bad.
“Hello, Bryn. The last few times we met, you flew off before we had a chance to talk.”
“Hello, Alec.” She needed a way out of this room, fast. There had to be a door that led to a stairway. Wait, was that flash of light a blond head? “What do you want?”
“I want you to step off the elevator. There are no buttons inside. What good does it do to stay there?”
Stay calm. Play along. “It stinks here. Why don’t we talk someplace else?”
He laughed and shook his head. “You think to trick me so easily?”
She shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
“Come out, Bryn. I’d hate to hurt your friends.” The lantern light shifted to reveal Jaxon and his mother, bound and gagged on the couch. They resembled discarded, life-sized rag dolls. Neither one moved. Their eyes were closed.
“Can you smell the gasoline I poured on the carpet and the couch? It would be a bad idea to use your fire. Your friends would die a horrible death.”
They weren’t dead yet. Needing to buy them some time, she stepped out of the elevator and positioned herself between Alec and the unconscious dragons. She backed away from him and continued talking. “All right, Alec. What do you want?”
“I want revenge on the Directorate. They stole my life. Now Ferrin will know what it’s like to lose what he loves.”
“It’s not Jaxon’s fault his father is a jerk who plays God.”
He chuckled. It wasn’t a warm, happy sound. “Don’t you see? It’s divine justice for both of us. Ferrin is making you pay for the sins of your mother. Now his son and wife will pay for his transgressions.”
She had to distract Alec and get Jaxon and his mother out of there. “What role do I play in this twisted scenario? What do you want from me?”
“If you’d died from the dragonbane like you were supposed to, we would’ve blamed your death on the Blues. You would’ve been the martyr for our cause.”
Wait a minute. “You poisoned me?”
“Not me, personally. One of our co-conspirators inside the Institute.”
“Did your co-conspirator steal my bracelet?”
“Yes. Your diamonds have opened several doors for us.”
Great. She’d funded her own attempted murder. “Killing me now serves no purpose.” She backed toward the couch, scanning the room for something to use as a weapon.
“You are the last of the Sinclair line, so your death will serve to punish your grandfather.”
She was running out of time. And then she saw her chance. “He doesn’t care about me, so killing me accomplishes nothing.”
“You represent the continuation of his line. He—”
While he was talking, Bryn sucked in a breath and blasted frozen flames at the giant chandelier hanging above Alec.
His head jerked up.
Crack. The added weight from the ice was too much for the fixture. It broke free and crashed down on Alec.
Yes. No time to celebrate. Heart hammering in her chest, she shifted, flew to the couch, grabbed the two lifeless bodies with her hind talons, and aimed for a window. Why did Jaxon and his mother seem so heavy? Her body had been healed by Quintessence, but she was fatigued. Now was not the time to move slowly.
A white hot bolt of lightning seared her shoulder and sent her tumbling end over end. Son of a bitch. That hurt. Roaring in pain, she tucked Jaxon and Lillith closer to her body, turned, and shot a fireball at the gasoline soaked couch.
Flames exploded as the couch and carpet caught fire. Bryn pumped her wings like crazy. Each down-stroke took effort. She’d bought herself a few seconds, but she needed to get out of there before—
Bam. A second bolt of lightning punched into her flank, stealing her breath and slamming her through the windows, taking glass and stone with her as she catapulted into the night sky.
Dazed, she struggled to breathe. Everything was so dark. Where was the damn ground? If she could get rid of her passengers, she could turn and fight.
There, the trees gave her a marker to aim for. Tendons in her wing muscles strained as she leveled out and held steady. A third bolt of lightning singed her tail. That was enough of that shit. Growling, she dived low to the ground, dropped the lifeless bundles on the grass, and turned to do battle.
Alec was coming in fast, talons first. She blasted him with fire. He altered his course and came at her from behind. She was on the defensive now, shooting fireballs to keep him at bay. In the air, she’d had a better chance of avoiding his attack. Now that Jaxon and Lillith were on the ground, she was stuck guarding them like a sitting duck. It’s not like she could leave them. Okay, she might leave Jaxon, but his mother was nice. Where the hell was Merrick?
Lightning flew over her head and hit Alec in the chest, knocking him backward. Bryn whipped around. Had that been meant for her? Did Alec have reinforcements with bad aim? Or was someone helping her?
“Thi
s stops now.” Zavien flew between Bryn and Alec, using his body as a shield.
It was the cavalry. Thank goodness. She collapsed in relief on the grass. Two Blue dragons converged from different points in the sky and flew to join the battle.
“About time.” Bryn shifted and turned her attention to Jaxon and Lillith, ripping the tape from their mouths and hands.
Beating wings signaled a dragon coming at her fast.
She shifted and sucked in a breath, ready to roast the enemy. The sight of the Green dragon slowed her heartbeat.
Medic Williams landed, shifted, and inspected Bryn’s wounds.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Take care of them.
The medic checked Lillith and Jaxon. “They’ve been sedated. The dose was too high. They won’t wake unless we act now.” She grabbed Bryn’s hand and placed it on Jaxon’s forehead. “It hasn’t reached their hearts yet. Feel for it in his blood. Reach inside with your Quintessence and destroy it. It’s the only way.”
The medic directed Quintessence through Bryn’s hand. “Follow me. I’ll show you what it feels like.”
Without her permission, Bryn felt her awareness dragged into Jaxon’s body. Claustrophobia hit as her life force narrowed into the channel of his veins. A putrid stench assaulted her.
“Neutralize that,” the medic instructed. “Send your Quintessence into his body and destroy it.”
Bryn gagged and snatched her hand away. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I could kill him.”
“Visualize your Quintessence as white light or fire and direct it at the poison. You can do this. He’ll be dead in minutes if you don’t try.” The medic turned to work on Lillith.
Seriously?
If he lived through this, he owed her big time. Her hand shook as she placed it on his forehead. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her Quintessence through his veins. The world constricted around her. She fought to breath. Damn Jaxon and his father. If she died trying to help him, she would haunt them for eternity.
Fighting the claustrophobia, she pushed forward. Rotten egg stench assaulted her. She visualized her life force as white flames burning away the tar-like poison. In the background, Jaxon moaned. Afraid to stop and check on him, she pushed forward. It felt like rolling a boulder uphill.