Chapter Eighteen
So much for relaxing. “Why do I feel like this isn’t going to be a fun conversation?”
“It looked like you were flirting with Jaxon today.”
Laughter was the only logical response, and then she noticed the tight set of his jaw. “Sorry. The idea of flirting with Jaxon is beyond absurd.” She grabbed his hand and gave what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “The only feelings I have for Jaxon are irritation and grudging respect.”
“I hate him,” Valmont spoke in a voice so quiet she barely heard him.
And the situation had gone from funny to tragic. “You have no reason to be jealous.”
Valmont laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “You’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”
How could she answer that question? “There is the possibility I will have to marry him, but it won’t be real. I will never want to sit and hold hands with him like this. I will never want him to kiss me. I will never care about him the way I care about you. Does that help?”
“It does.” Valmont squeezed her hand. “But I still hate that you’re going to be bound to him.”
“Only on paper.” How else could she reassure him? “I know it must be hard thinking about me being with him. The idea makes me nauseous, too, but don’t let that distort what we have.”
Valmont took a deep breath and then let it out. He raised his gaze and stared into Bryn’s eyes. “And what do we have?”
And the moment was here. Time to step up and say what she felt and hope he felt the same way. Because if he didn’t… She couldn’t even think about that. It was too painful.
“What we have is something wonderful. Something worth holding on to. Something we shouldn’t throw away based on insecurities and fear and the idiocy of the Directorate.” She leaned in and brushed her nose against his. “You’re my knight. I’m your dragon. No one can take that away from us.”
Her heart thumped in her chest as she waited for him to respond. As every second ticked by, she feared she’d said too much.
“You’re mine.” His face was so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. He moved so his mouth lined up with hers and whispered, “My dragon.” And then he kissed her. Magic flowed through their bond. The flying sensation zinged through her body, and she felt him draw back for a second before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
A knock on the door had Valmont jerking away from Bryn so quickly, it made her dizzy.
“What the hell?” Bryn shot him a dirty look.
He didn’t seem to notice as he stalked to the door. “Who is it?”
There was no answer. Valmont put his hand on the doorknob.
“Don’t.” Bryn scrambled to her feet. “People have a habit of wiring bombs to doorknobs around here.”
“We walked through that door two hours ago.”
“Yes, which would have given someone ample time to mess with it. Plus why would someone knock and then run away? The only reason to do that is to play a prank on someone or do something worse.”
“You make a valid point.” Valmont moved away from the door. “We could fly down and go in the front entrance, climb the stairs and see what’s out there.”
“We could.” Bryn worked to phrase her next suggestion carefully. “Or I could call Rhianna. She’s just down the hall.”
“You know damn well Jaxon is probably with her and he would be the one coming to investigate.”
“Maybe.” Bryn tried to look like she didn’t think that was the case even though she knew it was. What was the best diplomatic tact to take? “You choose. We can fly down and come back up the stairs to check it out, or we can make a phone call.”
“No contest. We’re flying.”
Wow. She hadn’t thought he’d go that route. Too late to second guess his male pride now. “Okay.”
They climbed out the window to the terrace. Bryn shifted and whipped her tail around for Valmont to use it as a step. Once he was seated on her back, magic flowed between them, making her feel more connected to him and stronger because of him.
“Hold on.” She launched herself off the terrace and up into the sky, reveling in the sensation of cool evening wind on her wings.
“The door is down that way,” Valmont said.
The yearning to fly made the mystery of the door seem not so important. “Whatever is outside my door will still be there in a few minutes.”
“Unless it’s a bomb,” Valmont said. “In which case the entire building could be gone in a matter of minutes.”
Well, crap. She couldn’t argue his logic, but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. “Way to ruin a perfectly good flight.”
“You know I’m right.”
Why did she have the childish urge to mock him by repeating what he said in a superior tone? That wasn’t like her. It wasn’t nice. Not that she was always sweetness and light, but this was Valmont. Gah. The desire to fly was messing with her head.
“Fine.” She dived toward the ground and landed in the grassy area across from the dorm entrance. She dug her talons into the turf, in an attempt to steady her landing and ended up jolting forward ripping up hunks of sod. She really needed to figure this landing thing out. Valmont dismounted, and she shifted back.
Without commenting, Valmont helped her stomp the chunks of sod back in place and then they headed inside the Blue dorm. Heads turned, about a third of them acknowledged her with a quick glance and then went back to what they were doing. A few gave a polite nod. Mostly those who she’d healed after the attack over Christmas break. She mirrored their polite nods. The rest of the Blues stared through her. Gee, that never gets old.
She headed up the stairs with Valmont by her side.
“None of them make eye contact with me,” Valmont said.
“I’m familiar with that game.” Bryn laced her fingers through his. “Don’t let them bother you.”
“I really want to punch some of them.”
“We’re on the same page.” They made it to the second landing and headed down the hall toward Bryn’s door. On the floor, there was a plain white legal-size envelope like bills came in. Bryn nudged it with her right foot. “It’s too flat to be a bomb, right?”
“I think so.” Valmont leaned down for a better view. “Should I pick it up?”
“Us standing here staring at it isn’t accomplishing anything, so, I guess you should.”
He grabbed it and flipped it over. “No writing on the front.”
Bryn stuck her key in the lock. “Let’s get back inside.”
Once they were seated at the library table in the living room, Bryn gestured at the envelope. “You want to do the honors?”
“Sure.” He drew his sword and used it like a giant letter opened, slicing through the flap of envelope.
Bryn chuckled. “I’m not sure knights of old would approve of that maneuver.”
“Sometimes when I’m bored, I find domestic uses for my sword. It cuts a mean slice of pepperoni.”
The piece of notebook paper Valmont pulled out had three words scratched on it in pencil. “Don’t trust them.”
Bryn grabbed the paper and flipped it over like there might be more to the message on the other side. “Don’t trust who? What kind of stupid message is this?”
“Why would someone give you this tonight?”
“I don’t know.” Bryn stalked over to the phone. “We need a Green.” She dialed Garret and explained the situation.
“I’d love to help, but I won’t make it there and back before curfew.” Garret sighed. “If I could still fly it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Her heart ached for him, losing the ability to fly would be devastating. And then an interesting idea popped into her head. “Valmont rides on my back. Do you have a friend you can ask to fly you over?”
Dead silence met her comment. Crap. Had she offended him? Now what could she say?
Laughter came through the phone line.
“Garret?”
“I mean…it’s just…it’s such a simple solution.” Garret sighed. “And I never would have thought of it.”
“I guess that’s one of the advantages of being an outsider. You think differently.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re an outsider, anymore. Not after your grandparents recognized you.” Garret was back to his analytical self. “About the note, do you feel like it represents an immediate threat?”
“No. It’s more of an annoying mystery.”
“I’d like to practice flying with a friend and take a few trial runs before I head off across campus. Why don’t you bring the note to class tomorrow?”
“Will do.” After saying good-bye, she hung up the phone with a sense of satisfaction. She may not have solved her own problem, but she’d given Garret a way to overcome a huge stumbling block in his life. Who could he talk into being his pseudo-flyer?
…
In the hall outside Mr. Stanton’s classroom, Bryn showed the paper to Clint, Ivy, and Garret.
“That’s nice and vague.” Clint tapped the paper with his finger. “Couldn’t they have given a name? How are you supposed to know who not to trust?”
“That may be the point.” Garret held the paper up to the light and squinted at it. “I think this came from a student’s notebook. If you look closely, you can see the indents of writing from the page in front of it. Someone give me a pencil.”
Ivy grabbed a yellow number two pencil from her book bag. “Here you go.”
Garret reached for the pencil with his good arm, which was still holding the paper and then froze. Pain flared in his eyes. “I was going to shade over the paper to see the indentations, but someone with two functional limbs will have to do it.”
Everyone stood still for a moment. Ivy reached for the paper in Garret’s hand. “I’ll hold the paper, you use the pencil.”
Garret nodded and did as Ivy suggested. He traced over the back of the note with the flat side of the lead, shading in a large area. The outline of letters appeared in the indents made from the page on top.
“Can you see someone’s name?” Bryn asked. That would make figuring this out a whole lot easier.
“No.” Garret exchanged items with Ivy and held the paper up to the light. “These look like notes from an advanced economics class, which means the paper came from an older student’s notebook. No one our age would be enrolled in this class.”
Valmont tapped his fingers on the pommel of his sword. “And what does that tell us?”
“It tells us whoever sent this note isn’t one of Bryn’s immediate acquaintances. My best guess is someone wants to make you question who you can trust. The whole thing is probably baseless and meant to cause anxiety.”
“Well, it worked.” Smoke shot from Bryn’s nostrils. “I have enough to worry about on my own. The idea of someone doing this just to mess with me really pisses me off.”
“Can I keep the note?” Garret asked Bryn.
“Sure.”
For the rest of the day, Bryn felt like she had to keep looking over her shoulder. Nothing strange happened. No bogeymen leapt out at her from dark corners. She almost wished someone would come at her. Her nervous system was on high alert, her muscles felt twitchy, and she was ready to fight.
When Ivy grabbed her arm and said, “Look,” Valmont drew his sword and Bryn produced a ball of fire in her hand.
It took Bryn a few seconds to realize Ivy was pointing at a poster for the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance.
Ivy pointed at the fireball in Bryn’s hand. “Overreact much?”
“Not funny.” Bryn closed her fist, extinguishing the flames. Valmont re-sheathed his sword.
“Sorry, I didn’t meant to startle you,” Ivy clasped her hands together, “but it’s a dance.”
Ivy said this like Bryn would say, “It’s a bottomless cup of coffee,” or “It’s a pie the size of a Mack truck’s tire.”
“A dance… Yippee,” Clint deadpanned.
“Do not rain on my I-love-dances parade. It’s a small price to pay for being my boyfriend.”
Clint laughed. “You’re right.”
A nervous feeling settled in Bryn’s middle. It felt like goldfish were swimming around inside her stomach. “Dances have never been very good for me.”
“What are you talking about? I rescued you at the last dance.” Valmont didn’t sound pleased.
“Hello? Christmas Ball…death and destruction…ring a bell?”
Valmont ducked his head. “I thought you were talking about—”
“I wasn’t,” Bryn cut him off. Even though she had been thinking of Zavien a little bit. “So, will you fulfill your knightly duties by escorting me to the terrifying Valentine’s Day dance?”
He pretended to think about it and then gave a wicked grin. “Can I pick out your dress?”
“You can help.”
Harmony restored, they continued walking back to Clint and Ivy’s dorm. When they reached the sidewalk outside the building, harmony was shot straight to hell at the sight of Zavien walking hand in hand with Nola.
For a moment, both groups of people froze.
“Nice night for a walk, isn’t it?” Valmont said.
Zavien opened his mouth, but nothing came out, like he was an actor who had forgotten his line. He cleared his throat. “It is.”
“We haven’t seen either of you around the theater during the rebuilding,” Ivy said.
Nola shook her head. “I don’t want to see it before it’s complete. It’s too distressing.”
Okay, time to jump in and say something since everyone else was talking. “My grandmother’s designs are beautiful. I think you’ll love the theater when it’s done.”
“I’m sure we will.” Zavien tugged on Nola’s hand. “We need to go. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Bryn and her friends echoed.
Talking to Zavien when she’d been concerned for Clint and Ivy’s welfare was one thing. Making small talk with him and Nola was too freaking weird.
Bryn squeezed Valmont’s hand. “That wasn’t too awkward, was it?”
“I no longer want to run him through with my sword.” Valmont grinned. “Jaxon, however, is another story.”
Everyone laughed. Bryn felt like some sort of emotional slate had been wiped clean. Truth be told, she’d done all she could to avoid bumping into Zavien and Nola since they’d returned from Christmas break. It’s not like she wanted to go on a double date with them, but knowing she didn’t have to avoid them anymore was a relief.
…
Bryn sat on Ivy’s couch with Valmont and looked around. It was weird how the room seemed cramped to her now. Good lord, she would not turn into an uppity Blue. She’d loved these rooms when she lived here. They might be half the size of her dorm, but they were fine.
“Bryn?” Valmont poked her on the thigh.
“What?” She blinked. “Sorry lost in thought.”
“About?” he prompted.
“I was trying to figure out how we were going to shop for dresses for the Valentine’s dance when we can’t leave campus.”
“That’s what I said while you were in La La Land.” Ivy laughed.
Now she really did take a moment to think about it. “I hate that my first thought is that a group of students going to Dragon’s Bluff would be a target.”
Valmont frowned. “Didn’t Jaxon say something like that once before?”
“He did. I can’t help but think having a dance makes a great target, too. Help me. There’s something wrong with my brain. My Blue DNA won’t let me have fun anymore.”
“You’ve been through some rough stuff,” Clint said. “That’s bound to leave anyone a bit jaded.”
“Listen up,” Ivy said. “The dance will be fun. Shopping for dresses will be fun. I expect you all to get with the program.”
“You’re right,” Bryn said. “But before we go running to my grandmother about shopping, let’s see if someone else steps up to solve this problem. I don’t want to wave my grandmother card around the same way Jaxon waves his my-father-is-speaker-for-the-Directorate flag in everyone’s faces.”
The next day, in the hall outside Proper Decorum, Rhianna gestured for Bryn to come speak with her.
“What’s up?” Bryn asked, ignoring Jaxon who stood scowling a few feet away.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the Valentine’s Day dance.”
“Yes, I saw the poster.” Bryn crossed her fingers for luck and hoped this was going where she wanted it.
“I’ve been speaking with some of the females in our dorm, and we all need new dresses.”
Bryn didn’t think “need” was the correct term, but whatever.
“I made a few calls, and we arranged for several of the boutiques in Dragon’s Bluff to bring their inventory to campus this weekend.”
“That’s great.” One thought plagued her. “Did you ask any normal stores to bring dresses?”
Rhianna tilted her head to the side. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Crap. “I’m not sure if the girls from different Clans can afford to pay boutique prices rather than regular store prices.”
Rhianna laughed, which seemed sort of rude and totally unlike Rhianna, and then she noticed Jaxon shaking his head at her like she was an idiot.
“What?” Bryn snapped.
“The difference between the boutiques and the stores on Main Street isn’t necessarily the price,” Rhianna said. “I mean there are some higher end items, but the real difference is the level of service.”
“Oh.” Bryn frowned. “You mean the way the saleslady fawns all over you and brings clothes to the dressing room instead of letting you pick things out on your own?”
Rhianna nodded.
Now she felt sort of stupid. In the human world, boutiques were expensive and trendy and out of reach for normal income families. Here, boutiques were snobby in the way they waited on you, but the prices were the same. That seemed oddly civilized. “What if a girl from another Clan went to one of the boutiques? Would the saleslady act the same?”
“Someone from another Clan wouldn’t be let in the door,” Jaxon said. “It’s a service offered only to the Blues.”
And the Blues were back to being the insufferable elite she knew them to be. Bryn opened her mouth to speak and decided she didn’t want to start this argument because it was a no-win situation, but she couldn’t let it go. “That’s a whole level of absurd I don’t want to get into right now.”
Jaxon opened his mouth to speak but Rhianna cut him off before he uttered a syllable. “Please tell your friends and spread the word that we’ll have dresses and dressing rooms set up in the Ballroom C at the theater building Friday night.”
“Thanks. I’ll pass the information along.”