Chapter Nineteen
Bryn sorted through dresses on one of the two-dozen circular racks set up in the ballroom, waiting for something to catch her eye. Too short, too frilly, too sparkly, too revealing, too—
“I like that one.” Valmont pointed at the dress she’d passed because the V-neck would come down to somewhere around her navel.
“Not going to happen.” Bryn kept flipping. Too boring. Too ruffly. Too beige. And then she found it. A midnight-blue sheath dress with a silver choker-type collar. “This is my dress.”
Valmont eyed the garment critically. Then he reached over and touched the side of the dress where the thigh high slit was located. “Works for me.”
“You’re such a guy.” Bryn elbowed him.
“Guilty.” He grinned, and his dimple appeared.
Kiss him, her subconscious screamed. But they were in public, so she couldn’t do that. Which sucked.
“Look what I found.” Ivy bounded toward Bryn holding a strawberry-red strapless dress.
“I love it.” Bryn glanced around. “We need to find an open dressing room.”
Small canvas tent-like structures had been set up all along one wall of the ballroom. Girls stood in line waiting for an open room. “I guess we play pick-a-line.”
Ivy pointed to the closest one. “They’re all about the same.”
As they waited in line, Bryn checked out the dresses the other girls had chosen. She was grateful to see she liked her selection the best. Once they made it into the dressing room, Bryn changed as quickly as possible. The idea that the temporary dressing room could collapse and the entire room would see her standing there in her green bra decorated with pink flamingos made her cringe.
Ivy modeled her dress for Bryn. “What do you think?”
“That color is amazing on you.” With Ivy’s pale skin and dark hair, she looked like a fairy tale princess. Bryn finished fastening her dress and checked the mirror. “I swear, I still expect to see striped hair when I look in the mirror. This blond person staring back at me with the one red streak doesn’t seem right.”
“But the dress is amazing,” Ivy said. “Should we show the guys?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of girls in line behind us.”
“You’re right.” Ivy changed out of her dress and back into her clothes. “Plus, this way there’s still a little mystery.”
When they emerged from the dressing room in their normal clothing, Valmont frowned. “Didn’t it fit?”
“It did.”
“Then why didn’t you show us?” Clint asked.
Bryn gestured at the girls still waiting in line. “We didn’t want to hog the room.”
“And this way we remain women of mystery,” Ivy added.
Clint smiled and shrugged like it was no big deal. Valmont’s lips pressed together in a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. After parting ways with her friends, Bryn and Valmont returned to her dorm room where she headed straight to her armoire to hang up her new dress. For some reason, Valmont followed behind her like he was waiting for her to do or say something. But she didn’t have a freaking clue what he wanted. “Is something wrong?”
He stared up at the ceiling. “I’m trying to figure out how to say this without starting a fight.”
Great. She was never going to another dance again. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited.
“Who are you wearing that dress for?”
What was he talking about? “I don’t understand the question.”
He reached into her armoire where the copper dress from the fall dance still hung. “Did you buy this dress with someone in mind?”
“Ivy forced me to try on a dress even though I didn’t think I was going. I loved it, so I bought it.”
“So you didn’t buy this for Zavien?”
Seriously? “I bought the dress because I liked it. Zavien didn’t have anything to do with it.” Liar, her subconscious screamed. “This dress,” she touched the navy-blue dress, “was bought to attend the Valentine’s Day dance with you. So this dress should rank higher on whatever weird boyfriend rating system you’re using.”
Valmont froze. “Did you just call me your boyfriend?”
And now the situation had reached a whole other level of crap-tastic-ly awkward. She ducked her head. “That’s kind of how I think of you.”
One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three…she counted seconds while waiting for a response, which so far he wasn’t making.
“Bryn?” Valmont whispered.
Her stomach twisted and pitched like she was riding a roller coaster. She was afraid to make eye contact, so she kept her head down. “What?”
His warm hand touched her chin and pressed up, signaling he wanted her to look at him. She met his gaze, which was far too serious, and it felt like the room shifted under her feet. She forced a laugh. “Forget I said that. I shouldn’t have assumed you were interested in that title.” And why in the hell isn’t he interrupting me and telling me he wants to be my boyfriend?
“Remember what we said about how even if we have an argument or a misunderstanding that I’ll still be your knight, so there’s no reason to become sick?”
She nodded and backed away from him. “Yep. Not going to get sick, but you should go.” Because she was going lose it and either cry or flash-fry him.
“You want me to go?” He seemed surprised.
Fire banked in her gut. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A memory reared up and made her laugh. “Jaxon once told me what I want is irrelevant. I guess he was right.”
Valmont bristled. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t even think about getting mad because I mentioned Jaxon. Some of the things he’s told me have been painfully true. This happens to be another one of those times.”
Valmont closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How did we end up here?”
“You followed me into my room.”
He looked at her likes she was being ridiculous. “No. I mean how did we end up in this situation, irritated with one another over something stupid, again?”
So, her thinking of him as her boyfriend was stupid. Flames crawled up the back of her throat. She took a moment and pushed them back down, but smoke drifted from her lips as she spoke. “You know what? Forget about it. I’ll never refer to you as anything but my knight ever again. Happy?”
“No.” He closed the gap between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m about as far from happy as I can be, because I can’t ever really be your boyfriend.”
“You can’t? Why not?”
“Because every time we walk out that damn door, I can’t be anything but your knight.”
Bryn latched onto the light at the end of this dark murky tunnel. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend, but you’re mad because we can’t act that way in public?”
“Of course that’s what I’m saying.”
“Thank God.” She felt her body sag with relief. She moved forward and leaned her head against his chest. “I thought you meant you didn’t want to be my boyfriend.”
“How could you—”
She growled, and it wasn’t a friendly growl. “You just traumatized me. So I suggest you shut up and hug me.”
She felt his chest vibrate with laughter, but he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “We need to work on our communication skills.”
“Agreed.”
…
The Valentine’s Day dance seemed to provide the distraction students needed to avoid thinking about war and politics. Girls talked about their dresses. Boys griped about their tuxedos. All in all, the balance of normal teenage drama in the universe seemed to be restored.
So of course, Jaxon had to do something to mess the situation up. At least that’s what she figured he was doing since he showed up at her door after classes.
Instinct told her she shouldn’t invite him inside, but she couldn’t leave him standing in the hall, either. “Hello, Jaxon.” She backed up so he could enter. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”
“There’s something we need to discuss. Privately.” He directed his gaze at Valmont. “Tell your knight to give us some privacy.”
Where does he get off? “Number one, he’s not deaf. And two, whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of him.”
“No. I can’t.” Jaxon crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“That’s a threat I’ll actually respect.” Valmont stood. “In the interest of getting rid of him, I’ll wait in my room.”
Bryn wanted to tell Valmont she didn’t want to speak to Jaxon alone, but that wasn’t a choice. Once her knight had relocated, she walked over and sat at the library table, gesturing that Jaxon should join her because she was tired of everything being on his terms. “What new drama is about to befall my life?”
“We need to discuss the dance.” His tone was so serious, she wanted to laugh.
“Okay. What about it?”
His gaze darted to Valmont’s door. “It’s essential everyone believes your relationship with Valmont is appropriate.”
She so did not like where this was going. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“You must appear to be friends and nothing more.” Jaxon was so adamant, she took a moment to analyze the situation. And it came to her. “Are you worried about how it will look if your, God-forbid-possible-future-wife, is out on a real date with someone?”
“Yes. Everyone knows our lineage came back a match. While I prefer to live in the land of denial, we still need to be aware of our behavior in public which means you cannot undermine my status by being seen as romantically involved with someone else.”
A base drum started beating in her temples. “I get the whole I-must-appear-to-be-the-Alpha-male-to-protect-Rhianna routine. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on having a fun night. Your ego will have to deal with it. Besides you’ll be on a real date with Rhianna.”
He opened his mouth to speak.
“I swear to God if you give me that no-one-cares-what-I-do-because-there’s-a-double-standard line of bullshit again, I will blast you across the room.”
His eyes narrowed. “I came here as a courtesy to you.”
And now he’d stumped her. “How do you figure?”
“If I approached you in front of other students to speak about your knight and someone overheard, your grandfather would have Valmont thrown off campus so fast it would make your head spin.”
What the crap was he talking about? “In case you forgot, it was my grandmother who asked Valmont to watch over me.”
“Yes, but if your grandfather decided the situation was inappropriate, he could end it. He outranks your grandmother. Haven’t you figured that out, yet?”
“No, he doesn’t.” Bryn smacked her hand down on the table. “If my grandmother wants something, she makes it happen. No matter if my grandfather agrees or not. In case you haven’t noticed, the Blue females let the men think they are in charge, to save their egos. The women control things behind the scenes and don’t brag about it.”
“Or maybe,” Jaxon placed both his palms flat on the table and leaned into Bryn’s personal space, “the males let the females believe they have some influence in order to keep the peace.”
If that was true, she was so going to get herself elected to the Directorate, if for no other reason than to piss Jaxon off. “That’s a nice little fantasy you have there, but it still doesn’t change the situation. I’m going to the Valentine’s dance with Valmont. We will behave however we want.”
Jaxon pushed to his feet. “Just remember, if your grandfather gets wind of any inappropriate behavior, Fonzoli’s might burn to the ground.”
Fire climbed up the back of Bryn’s throat. Sparks shot from her mouth as she spoke. “Are you threatening Valmont’s family?”
“No. I’m warning you. I’m trying to explain the facts of life, which after all this time, you somehow still fail to grasp. Your grandfather is ruthless, and he will hurt Valmont if you give him reason to do so.”
Bryn closed her eyes and focused on pushing the fire back down. “So even though you’re an insensitive ass-hat, you’re warning me away from behavior that might endanger Valmont’s safety.”
“Yes. So I suggest you keep the name-calling to a minimum, keep your knight in line, and try not to do anything that will reflect poorly on your Clan.”
“The Blues aren’t my Clan.” The words slipped from Bryn’s mouth before she thought about them. While she thought of her grandparents as family, the Clan at large didn’t give her the warm fuzzies.
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Those words are treason. Never say anything so disloyal ever again. Not even your grandfather could save you, nor would he want to if anyone heard you utter such blasphemy. You should be grateful the Directorate afforded you such an honor. Otherwise you would be Clan-less. It’s not like the Reds offered to take you in.”
Why hadn’t the Reds offered to take me in? She’d never thought about it before. Maybe because her father’s family was all dead, and she had no blood relation left to speak for her. Still, she hated to let Jaxon think he had the upper hand. “The Oranges offered to take me, so it’s not like I was desperate for the Blues to step in.”
“Fine. Run away and live with the Orange Clan. While you’re at it, take your knight with you. If both of you disappeared, my life would be vastly improved.”
Valmont’s bedroom door popped open. He strolled out with a cynical smile on his face. “I’m good with that plan.”
Hands on her hips, Bryn sighed. “While getting away from Jaxon sounds divine, I can’t abandon my grandmother.”
“She could come with us,” Valmont said.
Like that would happen. Time to come back from fantasyland to sucky reality. “I’ll try to restrain myself at the dance.” She pointed at Jaxon. “Thanks for raining on my parade. Now, go away.”
Jaxon slammed the door on his way out.
“I really want to hit him,” Valmont stated with utmost sincerity.
“Get in line.”
“What you told him, about the Blues not being your Clan, why did you say that?”
His tone was normal, but his disapproval came through loud and clear. “Seriously? Most of the Blues still hate me, and I’m pretty sure they’d do a happy dance if I fell into a rift and was crushed to death.”
“Rhianna, Lillith, and your grandmother are good to you.”
What the hell? “Why are you defending the Blue Clan and trying to make me feel like crap?”
“Family is important.” Valmont ran his hand down his face. “Maybe I’m only saying this because I miss mine.”
Rather than soothing her irritation his words fanned the flames. “To paraphrase, I’m disloyal, and it’s my fault you miss your family. Thanks for a lovely evening.” She stalked toward her bedroom.
“Bryn, wait.” Valmont jogged across the room and stood between her and the bedroom door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. I was stating a fact. I miss my family. You don’t have to love the Blue Clan. If you ever find a group of hybrids to run off with, I will be by your side. For now, the Blues are your dysfunctional, snotty, elitist family, and I think you have to claim them as your Clan. As your knight, it feels like my duty to protect you by recommending you acknowledge this completely irritating, yet strong and possibly protective, alliance.”
Where in the hell was this coming from? “Should I make a sign that says I’m proud to be Blue?”
He pointed his finger at her like he was about to give her a lecture, but then he stopped. “I need you to take a deep breath and listen to my words. As a knight, my job is to protect my dragon. Having my dragon aligned with an entire Clan of dragons makes sense strategically. This isn’t me telling you to act a certain way. This is me recognizing a better battle strategy.”
Her anger level went from a rolling boil to a soft simmer. “That makes sense. It still ticks me off, but it makes sense.”
“So we’re okay?” He didn’t sound sure of himself.
“Honestly, I think we’re both candidates for a psychological study on magical bonding making people a bit emotionally unstable, but other than that, we’re good.”
He hugged her to his chest. She inhaled his warm sunshine and leather smell, which allowed some of the tension to drain from her muscles. “I feel stupid worrying about the dance when we still don’t know if there is anything worth investigating under the library.”
“After what happened with Clint, and knowing Ferrin keeps an office on the top floor, I’m less inclined to go poking around,” Valmont said. “The best option would be a teacher sanctioned trip to the archives.”
“I do owe Mr. Stanton a research paper. Maybe I can talk to him about it.”
…
Friday Mr. Stanton asked Bryn to stay late after Elemental Science. Once the last student had left the room, he waved her up to his desk. “You need to pick a topic for your research paper.”
“About that. I heard there were vaults below the libraries. I’d love to see them.”
He chuckled. “Most of the information down there is dry and literally dusty.”
“Can I see for myself?”
“Given your personality, if I don’t allow you access, you’ll fantasize about sneaking in. So, here.” He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a few lines on it. “Here is a list of topics for you to choose from which might give you an excuse to access the library archives. Talk to Miss Enid. She can arrange that for you. Don’t blame me when you see how boring the information is. I helped Miss Enid catalog some of those files years ago, and it was almost coma-inducing.”
“Thanks,” Hopefully she’d find something more useful than information for a paper. She took the list and headed for the door.
Valmont read over her shoulder as they walked to the library. “Lineage checks, Clan population, and historical taxation? None of those sound interesting.”
“Maybe Miss Enid can help us pick the least boring topic.”
When they reached the front desk of the library, Miss Enid frowned at the note. “I’m sure you are aware that you’ll need access to the vaults to research these topics.”
Bryn nodded. “That was sort of the plan.”
“And you know asking for access to the vaults will raise a few red flags with the Directorate.”
Valmont drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I want to see what’s in the vaults, but not at the expense of Bryn’s safety. Do you think pursuing this quest, for lack of a better term, will endanger her?”
“Knowing Bryn, she won’t rest until she sees the vaults for herself. As her knight, I hold you responsible for making sure she isn’t out after curfew.”
Listening to them discuss her like she wasn’t present was delightful. “I am standing right here, you know.”
“I know you’re here,” Miss Enid said, “as does anyone watching the camera feeds on the top floor.”
Bryn scanned the ceiling for a red light or a mirrored dome or any clue that a camera was present and recording her every move.
“You won’t see them, but they will see you,” Miss Enid said. “After Christmas, the Blue Clan claimed offices on the top floor and had surveillance security cameras installed throughout the library.”
“Why?” Valmont asked.
“The more offices they have, the less likely people with ill-intent will be able to find them.”
“To sum up, whatever we do in the library is being recorded and analyzed.” Bryn frowned. “I still need to see what’s in the vaults if you can make it happen.”
Miss Enid typed on her computer. “I’ll submit a form saying you would like to do a research paper on lineage checks. Given your impending union with Jaxon, no one will suspect you aren’t interested in that topic.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and then she hit enter. “Now we wait. I’ll let you know when I have their answer.”
It took three days for Bryn to hear back from Miss Enid about the vaults. “You can visit the vaults this evening for two hours,” the librarian said from behind the front desk. “Are you wearing a watch?”
“I am.” Valmont held out his wrist.
“Good. Follow me.” Miss Enid signaled Bryn and Valmont should follow her to the offices behind the desk. They walked through a room with a copy machine and entered the back storage area, which housed damaged books waiting to be repaired. There was no other door visible.
“Here we are.” Miss Enid smiled at Bryn and held out the key.
“Are we playing guess where the hidden door is?” Valmont asked.
“Look down.” Miss Enid pointed at the floor.
Hinges and a keyhole on the floor were the only clue a trapdoor lay underneath. The edges matched seamlessly with the hardwood floor. Bryn took the key, knelt and placed it in the lock. She turned it hard to the right. There was an audible click, and then the trap door swung up and open, revealing a narrow set of corkscrew stairs.
Bryn stepped down onto the first step and then paused. “Valmont grab the key.”
“You won’t need it.” Miss Enid retrieved the key and pocketed it. “The locks are meant to keep people out, not trap them inside.”
“Are you sure?” Bryn asked. “The universe seems to have a strange sense of humor when it comes to messing with me.”
“True.” Miss Enid pointed down the staircase. “But the trapdoor is the only way in and out of this area.”
“The blueprints of the library showed vaults under all four corners of the building,” Valmont said. “Does this lead to all of them?”
“It leads to the area you’re allowed to access.” Miss Enid emphasized the allowed part. “Do not push your luck right now searching for something which may not exist. I applaud your quest for knowledge, but the Directorate is on high alert. Do not give them a reason to doubt your grandfather’s loyalty.”
It was on the tip of Bryn’s tongue to say her grandfather had nothing to do with this, when she remembered her grandmother saying everything she did would reflect on them. “I’ll be careful.” That was the only promise she was willing to make.
“Let me go first.” Valmont drew his sword. “As Miss Enid said, these are strange times.”
He descended the stairs. As the sole of his boot hit each step, the rim of the next step lit up, providing enough light to see the step in front of him, but nothing of what lay beyond. The stairwell was so narrow Valmont’s shoulders almost brushed the stone walls.
“Were people smaller when they built this?” Bryn asked.
“It’s probably for defensive purposes. Any battles would be one on one. No group could sneak up on whoever was guarding the stairs.”
“Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.” The stairs curved back on themselves five times before they reached a stone landing four feet wide where a wall sconce shaped like a torch flared to life. “Nice theatrics.” Bryn inhaled stale air that made her mouth taste like dust. “We should have brought bottled water.”
“I doubt drinks are allowed in the archives.” Valmont moved forward down the hall, which was wide enough for them to walk side by side.
The stone of the floor and walls were mortared together with something that sparkled, like ground-up diamonds. What was that about?
The hall ended in a large wooden door with iron hinges.
Valmont touched the hinges. “Look familiar?”
Bryn nodded. “Looks like the magical Maintenance door on the first floor. I don’t suppose you see any weird cryptic messages.”
“Not this time.” Valmont grabbed the handle and turned, pulling on the door. It opened without making a sound. “I expected those hinges to creak loud enough for the entire campus to hear.”
The lights in the room beyond lit up, revealing floor to ceiling bookshelves and glassed-in cabinets containing museum qualify artifacts.
Valmont pointed at a saddle with an intricate pattern of frozen flames created from embedded silver. “I want one.”
“I’ll remember that next Christmas.” Bryn investigated the next glass case, which held a sword with the same frozen flame pattern etched onto the blade. “You might want to check this out before you make your list for Santa.”
Valmont came to stand by Bryn and stared into the case with a longing that almost made her jealous.
“Would you like some time alone with your new girlfriend?” Bryn teased.
He backed up a step, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it.
“What’s wrong?”
He pointed at the sword. “I’d swear there’s some sort of magnetic pull from that sword, like it wants to find a new knight.” He held his hand toward the glass. “Can you feel it?”
Bryn moved in closer and stared at the sword, putting her palm flat on the glass. “No. I mean it’s beautiful, but I don’t feel the need to possess it. Let’s investigate the bookshelves and see if we can find the information for my paper and something about hybrids.”
Valmont pointed at the old-fashioned mahogany card catalog. “Do we start there?”
“I guess.” Fifteen minutes later Bryn had a newfound respect for anyone who’d done research before Google. “Why isn’t lineage under L?”
“Did you try Directorate Lineage checks?”
“Yes, and marriage and laws.”
“What does lineage check for, in the simplest sense?” Valmont asked.
Bryn racked her brain. “They talk about checking bloodlines.” She moved over to the B drawer. Halfway through blood-related titles, which there seemed to be a disturbing amount of, she found “Bloodlines: Lineage Checks.”
“Finally. This card says the books start with number 762 and go through 894.”
“That narrows it down,” Valmont headed for the bookshelves. After staring at a row of books, he sighed. “Did the card catalog tell you where the numbers were located on the books?”
“They’re not on the spine, like normal library books?” Bryn moved to the closest shelf and grabbed a green leather bound book. The spine was bare. No title. No number. “It feels like the Directorate is mocking anyone who finds these books, like maybe you found our secret stash, but we removed all the titles to spite you.” She flipped the book open to the first page, The Best of Botany. She slammed it shut. “There has to be an easier way.”
When Valmont didn’t respond, she glanced up. No knight. “Valmont?”
“Over here,” he called from the other side of the ginormous card catalog. “You need to see this.”