Chapter Sixteen
The next morning in the buffet line, Bryn piled her plate high with pancakes. The Blue male behind her raised a brow.
“Food makes me feel better,” she said. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not as long as there’s enough for the rest of us.”
She considered nabbing the entire platter of pancakes just to piss him off, but common sense won out.
When she joined her friends at their normal table, Clint glanced up. “Were you able to talk to Zavien before the attack?”
Ivy stole a piece of bacon off her boyfriend’s plate. “I thought we agreed to let her bring him up.”
He rolled his eyes. “We waited a respectable amount of time. She’s probably dying to tell us, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate.”
“We can add mind reader to your list of character traits.” Bryn poured syrup on her pancakes. “When the auditorium was attacked, he chose to protect me over Nola.”
“And?” Ivy prompted.
She slashed at her pancakes. “And nothing. He hasn’t apologized and I don’t think he intends to. As Valmont put it, Zavien would prefer I didn’t die, but he doesn’t want to be seen with me in public.”
“Ouch,” Clint muttered around a mouth full of toast.
“Exactly.” Bryn ripped open three packets of sugar and poured them into her coffee. “Any suggestions on what I should do now?”
“What do you want from Zavien?” Clint asked. “As a guy, I might be able to tell you if your fantasy has a chance at becoming reality.”
Sipping her coffee, she thought about the question. “I want him to apologize for being a colossal ass, and I want him to choose me over Nola.”
“Legally, I’m not sure that’s an option.” Clint said. “His family has entered into a binding contract with Nola’s family.”
Bryn smacked her fork down on the table. “Then why did the jerk start something with me in the first place?”
“I think he might truly care for you.” Ivy grimaced. “Though that probably makes it worse, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” If she could flat-out hate him, it’d be easier to let go. “Part of me thinks it isn’t his fault, it’s the damned Directorate’s fault for insisting on arranged marriages. But if he loved me, he’d fight for me. Hell, even Jaxon is fighting for Rhianna.”
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
Bryn leaned forward. “Yesterday, Jaxon took me to see Rhianna.” She told them Rhianna’s condition and what Jaxon had promised. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“There aren’t words for how much that sucks.” Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You knew about her condition right after the attack. That’s why you asked about wheelchair accessibility.”
Time to confess. Sort of. “I knew she was hurt, but I thought the medics could heal her.”
“Maybe they still can.” Ivy sounded hopeful. “At least Jaxon is stepping up and promising to take care of her. Who knows who she’d end up with otherwise.”
“She’d be in the same sucky position I’m in.” What a depressing thought.
“Promise not to shoot a fireball at my head for what I’m about to say,” Clint said.
Bryn nodded and clenched the edge of the table.
“You could continue your relationship with Zavien in the same manner Jaxon offered to continue his relationship with Rhianna.”
Anger burst through Bryn’s body like a volcano. Sparks shot from her nostrils.
“Idiot.” Ivy punched her boyfriend on the shoulder. “You knew how she’d react to that idea.”
Clint nodded. “That’s why I included the caveat about not roasting me like a marshmallow.” He held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Realistically, that is the only offer Zavien can make if he comes back. I didn’t think you’d be cool with it, but I wanted you to think about it.”
Bryn’s shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her body. “I can’t believe that’s the best I can hope for. My life sucks.”
…
By the end of the week, life on campus returned to semi-normal with an undercurrent of anxiety. The Red Militia wandering the campus both reassured and worried Bryn. Did their presence mean the Directorate expected another attack?
No one left any weird drawings for her to find, which was a relief. She considered looking up the symbol online, but was afraid that might set off some internal computer alarm.
Friday night, Bryn holed up in the library hoping to find detailed information about why Alec had hated the Directorate so much. Right before he’d tried to kill her, he’d said the Directorate had stolen his life.
What did that mean? Zavien had told her that Alec’s marriage contract had been denied and that was enough reason to hate Ferrin and the Directorate, but was it enough to want to kill Ferrin’s family and Bryn?
Miss Enid had tipped her off about where the Directorate housed the records of marriage petitions both approved and denied, which was why she was on the fourth floor of the library in a secluded corner surrounded by musty-smelling books. Some of the books were so old their leather bindings had cracked. Newer books, exact replicas of the ancient ones they were shelved with, held the most recent information. Names of the proposed husband and wife were listed together, along with a notation of whether they were approved or denied. Of course, the information stopped there. A reason for the denials wasn’t listed.
She shoved a four-inch-thick leather-bound beast back onto the shelf. Stupid thing must weigh twenty pounds. Had the damn Directorate never heard of computers? They probably recorded information this way to discourage people from looking things up. Too bad for them she had time to kill.
In one of the books, she found where Alec’s marriage petition to a girl named Analise Lane was denied. Alec had been offered another choice, which he had refused. What had happened to Analise?
After flipping through a few more books, Bryn found lists of benefactors—the men who kept mistresses—and the women they were involved with. There was only one name paired with each male. At least they were faithful to their mistresses.
Halfway through the book, Bryn found Analise’s name next to a male named Castor Wrenright. Her name was crossed out in different-colored ink and a new woman’s name was written next to it. What did that mean? Did mistresses get dumped? Talk about adding injury to insult. First you’re not good enough to marry and then they break up with you? That would be grounds for murder.
Bryn shook her head. Before she’d come into her power and shifted into a dragon for the first time, she’d never thought about murdering people in such a casual manner. Sure there had been a few snotty girls at her old school she wouldn’t have missed if someone had flattened them with a truck, but this new attitude was different. Was her temper worse now, since she could shift into a dragon? She didn’t think so. Then again, no one had tried to kill her before. Being poisoned and partially blown up was enough to sharpen anyone’s temper.
Fantasizing about killing Zavien didn’t mean she’d follow through with it.
What about dragons who did follow through with their instincts? In his Orientation speech, Ferrin had mentioned a student facing incarceration. Furious over the denial of his marriage petition, he’d burned down a Directorate member’s home. The Directorate must have its own prison system. Where were the records for that? They must be here somewhere. There was no catalog system for those books that she knew of, or had access to. How could she find them?
And then she saw it. Of course. More color-coding. All the books she’d checked so far that recorded marriage petitions had a midnight-blue binding. A few shelves over, all the books had red bindings. A quick check showed the books with red bindings recorded business deals. Green bindings contained medical records. Black bindings contained endowments given to various arts. White bindings contained family trees.
In the back of each of the books was an index, which allowed you to search by date or name. Maybe she could find Analise’s name somewhere and figure out what happened to her.
An hour later, her head hurt, and she was no closer to finding the information she needed. It was like a giant scavenger hunt. She needed help. Clint and Ivy would help, but what if someone found out they were poking around? She wouldn’t put it past the Directorate to deny marriage petitions to people who questioned them. Best not to involve her friends. But who did that leave?
…
The next day she tracked Jaxon down in Basic Movement and told him about her investigation. He stared at her like she was insane. “You want me to do what?”
She should have known he wouldn’t come quietly. Moving closer so the other students couldn’t hear, she said, “I want you to help me figure out what happened to Alec’s intended.”
“And why would I do that?”
“You started this investigation with your questions about Alec and how he knew about my grandfather’s estate.”
“Yes. And that’s why you’re supposed to be investigating Alec, not this Analise.”
It took effort to keep her voice low. “Whatever happened to Analise is the reason Alec went homicidal. Why was her name crossed out? Are mistresses replaced once they reach a certain age?”
He stared off into space for a moment. “If what I’ve heard is true, it’s a lifelong association.”
“So she died?”
“That would be my first guess.”
Not good. “We need to find out how she died.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s this fabulous invention called the computer.”
“Do you think I didn’t start there?” Maybe she could appeal to his natural greed. “I bet you twenty bucks her name doesn’t bring up any information relevant to her death.”
His eyes narrowed. “Fine. Meet me in the library tonight at seven.”
…
Jaxon used his student password to sign in to one of the library’s computers. He scrolled up and down. His jaw muscle twitched as he glared at the screen.
“There isn’t any indication this Analise ever existed.”
“See. That’s why I need help going through the Directorate records. Or you could ask your father.”
“Like my father has nothing better to do.” He stood and gestured for her to lead the way. “Let’s get this over with. I have an essay to write for Elemental Science.”
“Essay? What essay?” Had her mind drifted in class and she’d missed an assignment?
“If you read your syllabus, you’d know we have an essay on the multifunctional uses of our breath weapons due next Thursday.”
“Don’t scare me like that.” She whacked him on the arm in the same manner she’d smack Clint.
His entire body stiffened. Eyes narrowed, frost shot from his nose. “Did you just hit me?”
A month ago, this display of temper would’ve had her preparing for battle. Now, her first instinct was to laugh. She pretended to cough until she was under control.
“Sorry. Would you prefer I not do that?”
“Yes.”
“Duly noted. Now, can we go figure out what happened to Analise?”
Bryn showed him the page with Analise’s name crossed out. “According to the date their petition was denied, both she and Alec would’ve been twenty-four. If she finished her bachelor’s degree, she could’ve died any time in the last three years.”
Jaxon shook his head. “The girl who took her place graduated two years ago. Therefore, Analise must’ve died two years ago.”
“What is the average dragon’s life span?”
Jaxon glanced at her over the top of his book. “How can you not know that…oh wait…I forgot…you were raised by wolves.”
She flipped him off.
He snorted and turned his attention back to medical records book. “Most dragons live to be eighty or ninety. It’s rare for someone to die earlier unless they live a dangerous lifestyle.”
“Does mistress fall under that heading?”
“No, though there are occasional accidents.” He turned a few more pages. “I think I found something. Analise was admitted to the hospital shortly after graduation.” He continued reading. “All mistresses are admitted to the hospital around the same time.” His brow crinkled. “What type of medic is an OBG?”
An uneasy feeling crawled up Bryn’s spine. “That’s a gynecologist.”
Jaxon grimaced and dropped the book.
“Very mature.” Bryn grabbed the book and tried to decipher the medical notes. “All of the girls saw the same medic for the same procedure, something called Ovex.” She raised a brow at him. “Since you weren’t raised by wolves, do you know what that is?”
“Easy enough to find out. You keep digging for information, and I’ll go use a computer.”
“One of us should’ve brought a laptop.” Bryn flipped more pages as she scanned for Analise’s name. All she found was a notation that she had canceled her three-month post-procedure checkup, but would call to reschedule. The second appointment was never mentioned.
She continued to scan the medical records hoping to find another mention of Analise.
Jaxon returned, tight-lipped and narrow-eyed. He threw himself into the chair opposite Bryn and rammed his hands through his hair.
Rather than prod him for information, she waited. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Ovex is a procedure where a doctor inserts material into a woman’s fallopian tubes. Within three months, scarring occurs, which blocks the tubes.”
“Why would they…oh my God. Those bastards sterilize their mistresses.” Heat flared in her gut. “Did you know about—”
“No,” Jaxon cut her off. “I had no idea. I mean…I knew mistresses didn’t have children, but I thought it was something they had agreed to.”
Smoke shot from her nostrils. “Damn Directorate. What gives them the right?”
He shook his head. “I always believed… I never thought…”
Analise missing her three-month checkup took on a whole new meaning. “What if Analise had gotten pregnant?”
Jaxon’s head whipped up. “Impossible. She had the procedure.”
“She never went back for the checkup. What if someone helped her reverse the operation?”
His golden complexion paled. “If she had deceived her benefactor and conceived a child… I’d like to say the Directorate would never take a woman’s life. But if a woman showed up at my father’s door with a bastard child, the shame alone would be enough for him to take extreme measures.”
All the air left her lungs. “And you’re okay with that?”
“No.” He looked down at his fists, clenched on the table. “But there are some acts of betrayal which are unforgivable.”
“Are you listening to yourself? The poor woman probably wanted a child. They shouldn’t have killed her for that.”
Jaxon met her gaze. “They’re the Directorate. They can do what they want. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
This was insane. “They can’t be all powerful. There has to be some system of checks and balances.”
“Do you think your grandfather allows someone to tell him what to do? Do you think it’s a coincidence that your father’s entire family died in a car crash weeks after he ran off with your mother?”