Chapter Ten
Valmont pulled into a gravel driveway that led to a log cabin so old, the wood was bleached with age. Vines climbed up the walls, making it difficult to distinguish the house from surrounding vegetation, as if it had grown from the forest.
Warm yellow light flickered on and glowed from the front windows.
“Do you have a roommate?”
“No. Watch this.”
He shifted into reverse and backed the car up, and the lights in the house blinked off. When he pulled forward again, they came on.
“I had a sensor installed in the driveway to turn the lights on.”
“Cool.”
Once inside, Bryn was relieved to discover there wasn’t a single animal head in sight. Thank God. A pair of swords hung on one wall. They weren’t dusty antiques. Light glinted off their edges, like they’d just been cleaned.
A beat-up gray couch sat in the living room. On the other side of a half wall, a small table and chairs, which resembled the furniture at Fonzoli’s, sat in the kitchen.
“Bringing your work home with you?” Bryn pointed at the table and chairs.
“I may have borrowed those from the back room.” He grinned.
She walked farther into the space and saw a two-burner stove set in a black countertop. A black refrigerator, a sink, and oak cabinets completed the kitchen.
“This is great. Did you do all the work yourself?”
“My grandfather helped. He likes to hide here when my grandma has friends over to play canasta.” He opened the refrigerator. “Is chicken all right?”
“Sure.”
He pulled out a tray of chicken breasts and set them on the counter.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“I’m a messy cook.” Valmont retrieved a bottle of olive oil from the cabinet. “You can help, but we should find something else for you to wear.”
He disappeared down a hallway and came back with a navy sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. “You won’t win any fashion contests, but these should work.”
Bryn took the clothes and headed down the hall in search of the bathroom. The first door led to a bedroom. The second door revealed a minuscule bathroom—yay for indoor plumbing—but changing in the bedroom would be easier.
Valmont’s sweatshirt came down to midthigh. The pants were huge. She cinched in the drawstring waist. The too-long pants had elastic leg openings, so the extra material pooled around her calves and ankles like leg warmers.
Good thing she wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
The wooden floor was cool under her bare feet as she padded back into the kitchen, where Valmont had more ingredients gathered on the countertop.
“What can I do?”
He pointed at a pile of tomatoes and zucchini. “Dice those.”
She grabbed the knife he’d laid out for her and chopped. Splat. One of the tomatoes fought back, squirting juice and seeds on the front of her shirt.
“You were right. Good thing I changed.”
He winked. “I’m always right.”
She rolled her eyes and chopped the rest of the vegetables, passing them over to Valmont. He added them to the pan of chicken sautéing in olive oil, along with a healthy dose of Italian spices.
“Is that all there is to it?” she asked.
“This by itself would be okay.” He reached for a garlic bulb, broke it apart, and then put three cloves through a press. “Now it will be fabulous.”
The scent of garlic and Italian spices filled the air.
It smelled fabulous, but their breath afterward wouldn’t. It’s not like they’d be kissing or anything. Because that was ridiculous. Well, not ridiculous, but she had enough crap to figure out about Zavien without complicating the situation by kissing the smoking-hot knight who was staring at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Her face heated. “Sorry. Did you say something?”
“I asked you to grab the plates. They’re in the cabinet above the sink.”
“Sure.” She brought two plates to him. He arranged the chicken and vegetables in a pattern, making it attractive. “Before you say it, I know I’m not at work, but if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”
“That sounds like a knightly thing to say.” She took her plate to the table.
He joined her. “More of a family motto.”
She realized she didn’t know much about him. “Has your family always owned Fonzoli’s?”
“The restaurant has been handed down through generations. My grandfather is the head chef, while my father manages the business end of things. Since I graduated from high school last spring, I’ve been working as a waiter while my grandfather trains me to make all the family recipes. When he retires, I’ll become head chef.”
It seemed weird to have your whole life planned out at eighteen. Then again, that seemed to be a common theme among dragon society. “Did you ever want to do anything else?”
“No.” He grinned. “I love everything about food because it makes people happy. Thank God, my sister loves the business side of the operation and she’ll replace my dad one day when he retires. My oldest brother wanted nothing to do with it. He works at the airfield, training pilots. What about your family?”
“My parents own a yoga and martial arts studio.”
“Is it true they live as humans?”
Bryn nodded. “I had no idea they were dragons. Flames shooting out of my mouth clued me in something was up.”
Valmont laughed and shook his head. “That had to be a shock.”
“A huge shock…but now I can’t imagine not living as a dragon. I want to become a medic and use my Quintessence, which I can’t do back in the human world.”
“Good to know you’re staying. I was worried you planned to leave. I don’t want to sound like a stalker, but since that dormant spell was activated, I can’t imagine not having you within arm’s reach, so to speak. The thought of you leaving and going someplace else makes me twitchy.”
She was happy to be right where she was, thank you very much, which brought another question to mind. “Not to be rude, but how can you afford your own house when you just graduated from high school?”
“There are two answers to that question. One, these cabins were originally part of the Directorate security system. Before everyone had phones, the knight’s descendants who lived here kept watch over the area and reported any threats. Since they are no longer needed in that sense, the Directorate donated the cabins to the town. Any knight’s descendant who wants one signs a contract agreeing to care for the property, and we pay a nominal fee. Two: the Directorate pays all the townspeople a livable wage for keeping their secret and promising to fight by their side, if necessary.”
“So that’s how you can afford a house and an awesome car.”
Valmont nodded. “And every job in Dragon’s Bluff is well paid. So it’s not like on television where lawyers act superior to waiters. Of course, the Blues act superior to everyone, but I think that’s genetic.”
Bryn chuckled. “I think you’re right about that.”
Being with Valmont was so easy. She could relax around him. He flirted enough to make her feel attractive, but not uncomfortable. If he were a dragon, he’d be the perfect guy. Then again, Zavien was a dragon and he was the perfect jackass.
After dinner she noticed a major appliance was missing from the kitchen. “You don’t have a dishwasher.”
“Yes. I do.” He pointed at her. “You can be the dishwasher or the dish drier, your choice.”
“Ha ha. I’ll dry.”
There wasn’t much to clean up. As she finished drying the last dish, she yawned.
Valmont checked his watch. “We better head back, it’s almost curfew.”
Facing reality didn’t sound like fun. “Can I hide here?”
Valmont grabbed her hand. “I’ll always be here for you.”
She wanted to stomp her feet like a toddler. “I’m happy here. If I go back there, I’ll have to deal with that jerk.”
“If you don’t want to deal with the idiot, don’t talk to him. Maybe you two will work this out. Maybe you won’t. Whatever happens, don’t give in too easily or he’ll think he can behave this way again.”
He wasn’t judging her, and she appreciated that. “Thanks. I’ll go change.”
“Wear my clothes back to school.” He gave a cocky grin. “That’ll annoy the hell out of him.”
She laughed. “Good idea.”
“I can only take the high road for so long.”
The ride back to campus ended too soon. Valmont insisted on walking her to the dorm, where he held the door open for her.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said.
“I live to serve. Call if you need me.”
Once in her room, she hung up her dress and kicked off the sweatpants. The sweatshirt was nice and warm…maybe she’d sleep in it. The little voice in her head that called her pathetic could shut the hell up. Valmont’s warm fuzzy sweatshirt reminded her someone cared.
She flopped backward onto her bed. Did Zavien care? How the hell would she know? He’d never said the words. How many opportunities had she given him to tell her how he felt? Dozens.
The sadness and depression she’d been holding at bay came rolling in like the tide. Her throat burned and her eyes grew hot. Crying seemed inevitable. Maybe it was best to get it over with.
A knock on the door interrupted her scheduled breakdown. Should she answer it? It could be Clint and Ivy. She padded barefoot into the front room.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Zavien said. “We need to talk.”
Best not to get her hopes up. She took a deep breath and blew it out, wrangling her tear ducts into submission. Crying in front of him wasn’t an option. Trying to appear composed, she opened the door and allowed him to enter.
A muscle in his jaw twitched as he studied her outfit. “Nice sweatshirt.”
“Nice bow tie.” If he wanted a fight, she was happy to oblige.
“You left the dance. Where did you go?” he asked.
“To Valmont’s cabin.”
His eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t have left. There are still people out there who want to hurt you.”
“You hurt me.” And now he needed to apologize.
“Aren’t you blowing this out of proportion?”
Fire flared in her gut. “You lied to me. What’s crazy is that Jaxon told me the truth. He said you wouldn’t take me to the dance. How in the hell did he end up being the honest one?”
“I didn’t lie,” Zavien said. “I never said I’d take you as my date.”
“Fine. You’re a rat bastard who insinuated you’d take me as your date. Is that more accurate?”
“I told you many times I couldn’t take you. You said you’d ask Valmont. I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him, so I twisted the truth.”
Bryn held out the hem of her sweatshirt. “Look how tonight ended. If you’d been honest with me I’d be happy to see you right now. Instead, I want to rip your head off.”
“You don’t mean that.” He reached out to touch her cheek.
She smacked his hand away. “Yes I do. You told Nola I misunderstood your invitation. You said it was a stupid crush. She went on and on about how I’d misinterpreted your actions.”
Zavien went very still. “What did you tell her?”
“Oh my God.” Realization punched her in the gut so hard she doubled over. “You’re more worried about her finding out about us than you are about my feelings.”
He took a step toward her. “That’s not true.”
“Then what is the truth?”
“Bryn, this is…it’s complicated.”
No. It wasn’t complicated. It was painfully, heart-wrenchingly, agonizingly simple. “You chose her over me—again.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” He chuckled. “It was a stupid dance.”
Her life, everything she believed about him and how he felt about her, was falling apart, and he was laughing. Sadness transformed into heated anger. “Get out.”
“You’re making too much of this. You don’t really want me to leave.” His trademark lopsided grin appeared. He was so sure of himself. So sure that she’d come running because he snapped his fingers.
Damn it, Jaxon was right. Zavien was amusing himself. She’d been an idiot.
“Get. Out.” White-hot rage flowed through her body. Sparks shot from her nostrils with every breath. She growled and pointed at the door. “Out, now. Before I lose control and burn you to a crisp.”
Zavien backed up a step. Healthy fear finally seemed to set in. He yanked open the door and retreated into the hall. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Come within ten feet of me tomorrow and you’ll regret it.”
Slamming the door, she leaned against it. How could she have been so wrong about him? Her chest heaved as a volcano roared to life inside her. He’d made her look like a fool, just like her grandmother had warned her he would. The flames built inside her and begged to be released. She focused on cold and snow and lemon ice. Nothing worked. She stumbled through her bedroom and opened the window. Roaring in rage, she blasted the concrete terrace with flames over and over again, until there was nothing left. Numb, she went to bed.