Trial By Fire (Going Down in Flames)

by Chris Cannon

  Why did he have to be difficult? “Someone redecorated Rhianna’s room, and it isn’t an improvement.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She slammed the phone down, hanging up on him. That should get his uncooperative butt moving.

  Five minutes later, Jaxon stalked into the living room with Rhianna trailing warily behind him. He headed straight for her room. As soon as he crossed the threshold, a low growl rumbled from his chest.

  Rhianna stood in the doorway, surveyed the mess and then walked over to her four-poster bed and sat on an area of the comforter devoid of paint. Elbows on her knees, she leaned forward so her long blond hair covered her face like a curtain. “Someone is trying to send me a message, and they aren’t bothering to be subtle.”

  The air around Jaxon shimmered, and sleet shot from his nostrils, which meant he was about to lose control.

  “Did you lock the window to the terrace when you left today?” Bryn asked.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Jaxon snapped.

  Fire banked in her gut. He was being protective of Rhianna. She’d focus on that, and not get mad at him. “The window was locked when I tried to come in.”

  “I didn’t lock the window.” Rhianna sat up straight. “How did you get in?”

  “Once I saw the clothes in the hall, I was worried you might be hurt, so I broke the glass to reach the lock.”

  “Thanks for worrying.” Rhianna stood and walked over to a splash of red paint on the wall and ran her finger through it. “This should clean up, right?”

  “That’s not the point.” Jaxon waved his arms around at the mess that used to be her room. “This is unacceptable.”

  “This,” Rhianna copied his flailing gesture, “is petty and stupid. In order to show the idiots who did this they can’t run me off, I’m going to make a big deal about hiring decorators to come in and redo my room.”

  Jaxon looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “What in the hell will—”

  “That’s what my grandmother would do,” Bryn cut him off. And then she had an idea. “Why don’t we ask her to redesign your room?”

  Rhianna stood and walked to the phone in the living room. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “We need to report this,” Jaxon said. “Not cover it up.”

  “The individuals who did this are cowards.” Rhianna picked up the phone. “I’d rather not give them the satisfaction.”

  “I’d rather rip them apart with my talons.” Jaxon paced the room.

  “If you knew who did it, you could.” And then Bryn had another idea. “Give me the phone. Let’s call Garret or Mr. Stanton. One of them might be able to figure it out.”

  Garret arrived fifteen minutes after Bryn called. He took a sample of paint from the walls and then walked around the room. “Did you touch anything?”

  “I sat on the bed,” Rhianna said.

  “Jaxon shot sleet on the carpet,” Bryn said, which caused Jaxon to glare at her. “What? I’m trying to be helpful.”

  Garret exited the bedroom and studied the window Bryn had broken. “They couldn’t have left and then latched the window.” He walked into the living room, and they followed along behind him. “They must have exited through the door, setting it to lock automatically, which means it was an inside job, and the perpetrators probably still have the paint cans in their rooms.”

  Jaxon grabbed the phone and dialed. “I’d like to report an act of vandalism in the Blue dorm. Someone painted anti-Directorate graffiti on my friend’s wall.” Loud voices could be heard through the phone. “No, you don’t need to see the message. You need to find who in the Blue dorm has red paint in their room. They are the perpetrators.”

  Jaxon slammed the phone down.

  Garret pointed at him. “You just lied to the Directorate.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Jaxon headed back into Rhianna’s bedroom and grabbed a paint-splattered blouse off the floor. Holding it in his left hand, he smeared the paint on the walls to form the letters DIRECTORATE and then drew a line through them.

  Garret nodded in appreciation. “Crude, yet effective.”

  Jaxon tossed the blouse on the floor and then went to wash his hands in the bathroom.

  Garret approached Rhianna and touched her gently on the shoulder. “You’re staying. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Garret blushed. “Those of us who were injured…we need to stick together.”

  Rhianna leaned toward him and spoke in a low voice. “Your Clan-mates, how are they treating you?”

  “At first, it was awkward, but then we talked science and math, and it was all okay.”

  Jaxon emerged from the bathroom and caught sight of Garret touching Rhianna. “Thank you for coming over, Garret. I’d hate to keep you from whatever you were doing. Feel free to leave.”

  Garret laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Jaxon asked.

  “The way you make it sound like you’re letting me leave and kicking me out at the same time. It’s amusing.” Garret dropped his hand from Rhianna’s shoulder. “Some of the walking wounded are meeting for coffee this Wednesday night in the dining hall, if you want to join us. It’s kind of a support group.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Unable to help herself, Bryn spoke in a singsong voice, “Garret just made a date with your girlfriend.”

  Garret laughed again. “That’s even funnier.” Then he headed out the front door.

  Rhianna blushed. She walked over to Jaxon and took his hand. “Are you jealous of Garret?”

  “No,” Jaxon said, and then he kissed her.

  “Gross.” Bryn covered her eyes and headed for her own room. She changed out of her school clothes into black yoga pants and a purple T-shirt. Then she sorted through her homework and laid out her clothes for the morning and waited for some sort of all clear sign so she wouldn’t accidentally see more of Jaxon and Rhianna making out.

  Tap. Tap.

  “Come in.”

  Rhianna peeked inside. “Jaxon is gone.”

  “I can’t believe he was jealous of Garret.”

  A sly smile blossomed on Rhianna’s face. “Do you have any idea how often I’ve had to watch girls flirt with him?”

  The concept of being attracted to Jaxon was beyond Bryn. “Serves him right.”

  “He’s going to call when he has news of the investigation.” Her smile dimmed. “I guess I should go see what I can salvage from my closet.”

  “Don’t bother. You can borrow a pair of my pajamas and sleep in here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you call my grandmother yet?”

  Rhianna nodded. “Jaxon spoke to your grandfather, too.”

  “What did he have to say?”

  “The words I heard coming through the phone aren’t words I’d repeat.” Rhianna frowned. “He was more worried about the anti-Directorate sentiment than the fact that I was targeted.”

  “Sounds like my grandfather.”

  …

  The next morning, Bryn and Rhianna flew down to breakfast together. By unspoken agreement, they parted company at the buffet line, Bryn went to eat with her friends, and Rhianna went to eat with Jaxon.

  Over French toast and coffee, Bryn filled in Clint and Ivy on what she’d found the night before.

  “That’s weird,” Ivy said. “A Blue wouldn’t normally do something so…normal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’d expect Blues to pull high class pranks. Like delivering expensive gifts with paint bombs inside of them or something,” Clint said. “Regular graffiti seems so middle class.”

  True. “I don’t think anyone but a Blue could walk into the dorm unnoticed.” But a hybrid who could manipulate Quintessence to control their coloring probably could. She couldn’t mention that to her friends without explaining she’d seen other hybrids in Dragon’s Bluff the night it had been attacked, but sharing that information might endanger them. So she ke
pt the idea to herself.

  …

  When she returned to her room after the last class of the day, Bryn found her grandmother sitting at the table in the living room pointing and giving orders. Rhianna sat next to her flipping through wallpaper swatches.

  Two men had dismantled Rhianna’s bed and were in the process of leaning it against the far wall by one of the roll top desks. “What’s going on?” Bryn asked.

  “There you are.” Her grandmother pointed at the empty spot on the couch beside her. “Come pick out your new wallpaper.”

  “Not that I plan on arguing, but why am I picking out new paper when you’re redoing Rhianna’s room?”

  “If I’m redecorating Rhianna’s room, I might as well redo yours so the decor is cohesive.”

  Sure. That made sense. “Sounds like fun.”

  “I like this one.” Rhianna pointed to a swatch of pale gray wallpaper that looked like silk.

  “It’s pretty,” Bryn said. “But it looks more like a comforter than wallpaper.”

  “This is the bedding I’d recommend.” Her grandmother flipped through another sample book. Swatches of material flashed by, until her grandmother stopped on a robin’s egg blue silk with a silver gray floral pattern.

  Rhianna sucked in a breath. “I love that.”

  Crap. Bryn was going to be stuck in a girly-girl room.

  “I thought you might like this one.” Her grandmother turned the page and pointed at a sky blue silk with a silver gray stripe.

  “I do like that.” Bryn had caught sight of another pattern a few pages back. She reached over and flipped pages until she came to the one she wanted. It was charcoal gray with silver and sky blue stripes. “I like this one, too.”

  “It’s a bit masculine.” Her grandmother flipped through a few more swatches and stopped on a silver gray comforter with the faintest navy pinstripe. “How about this?”

  “I like that.”

  Men exited Rhianna’s room carrying buckets of red rags. “Were they able to clean the walls?”

  “They’ll be good as new by the time we’re done with them. Better, actually.” Her grandmother marked the swatches they’d chosen and opened a shopping bag sitting next to her chair. “Now, let’s pick out the accessories for your rooms.”

  Odd as it seemed, looking through pages of shower curtains and wall hangings was fun.

  Rhianna shoved a catalog under Bryn’s nose. “Look at this.”

  The bathroom was done up in charcoal gray and silver, but there were flowers on the shower curtain. Damn it all if she didn’t like it. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I like the flowers.”

  After another half hour of playing pick-a-pattern, Bryn’s stomach protested the lack of food by making a loud gurgling sound.

  “Sorry about that. I need food.”

  “First let me speak with the staff, and then we’ll figure out where to eat.”

  Did the workers mind being called staff? It seemed weird. Whatever.

  Her grandmother returned a moment later. “Why don’t we eat in the cafe downstairs?”

  Rhianna froze. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our dorm mates aren’t….” What was the word Bryn was looking for…”overly friendly.”

  Her grandmother slammed a book shut. “That is ridiculous.” She stood. “Follow me, and pay attention.”

  They took the stairs down to the dining hall. Every time they encountered another Blue, her grandmother stopped to ask questions.

  “How is your grandmother?” she asked a girl Bryn didn’t know.

  “She’s fine, Mrs. Sinclair. Thank you for asking.”

  “Do tell her I’d like to meet for coffee soon.”

  The girl brightened. “She’d love to meet for coffee. I’ll have her call you.”

  It took them three times as long as it should have to make it down the stairs to the small cafe in back. Once they were seated and the waiter had delivered menus and iced tea, Bryn pointed back the way they came. “What was all that about?”

  “That,” her grandmother said with an arched brow, “was networking. Something you must learn how to do. Whenever those women call to make plans, I’ll insist they bring their granddaughters along so you and Rhianna can network, too.”

  “Isn’t that social blackmail?” Bryn asked.

  “It’s a game, Bryn. One you need to learn how to play.”

  After dinner, they returned to their dorm room. There wasn’t a sign in the living room that a major project was taking place in the bedrooms. Rhianna stepped foot into her bedroom and smiled. “Oh, it’s lovely.”

  What could the workmen have done in the amount of time they’d been gone? Bryn peered around the doorframe. “Wow.” A soft silver glow covered the walls, like they were lit from within. “How did they do this while we ate dinner?”

  “All you need is the right amount of workers, and you can complete any job in a short span of time,” her grandmother said. “The bedding and the bathroom accessories will be delivered tomorrow.”

  In her own bedroom, Bryn found a surprise; her walls were also covered by the silver gray silk. “I love this wallpaper. It’s so—”

  “Happy?” Rhianna said.

  “Yes.” Bryn hugged her grandmother. “Thank you. This place feels more like mine now.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I’ll come back tomorrow night and we’ll finish up.”

  …

  “Dang.” Ivy spun in a circle taking in Bryn’s newly redecorated room. “This is unbelievable.”

  Clint stood in the doorway frowning. “I can’t believe they have separate bedrooms.”

  “Sorry,” Bryn said. “If you want to bleach your hair and get a tan, I’ll try to sneak you in.”

  “No thanks.” Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Is that a bathroom over there?”

  “I’m going to start on my tan tomorrow,” Ivy said. “I can’t believe you have your own bathroom.”

  This was awkward. What could she say? Sorry, the Blues have all the money so they built themselves better dorms. “You could lodge a complaint with someone. Maybe they’d build you your own bathroom.”

  “Excuse me,” Rhianna said from behind Clint. He stepped aside to let her come in. “Fair warning, Jaxon is coming over.”

  Bryn nodded at her friends. “Do you guys want to stay here and study in the living room or head back to your place?”

  “Let’s stay here,” Clint said. “If for no other reason than to annoy Jaxon.”

  “We’ll study at the table and you guys can have the couch, if that’s all right,” Rhianna said.

  “One question,” Ivy said. “Does your swanky cafe downstairs deliver pizza?”

  Rhianna shook her head. “No.”

  Clint grinned. “Bryn, I will do your homework for a week if you call Jaxon and ask him to pick up a pizza on his way over.”

  “He won’t do it if I ask.” Bryn batted her eyes at Rhianna. “Can you ask your foul-tempered boyfriend to pick up pizzas for us?”

  Rhianna struck a snotty posture. “Westgates order food. They don’t deliver it.”

  Bryn laughed and then headed for the phone in the living room. “I’ll call in a pizza, and we’ll go pick it up.”

  “I volunteer.” Clint brushed his fingers through his Mohawk, twisting it and making it stand up taller.

  “Going for shock effect?” Rhianna asked.

  “Of course.”

  “It won’t work.” She spoke in a sad tone. “They’ll act like they can’t see you.”

  Clint cracked his knuckles. “You underestimate my ability to piss people off. It’s an art form.”

  Knock. Knock.

  “That must be Jaxon.” Rhianna rushed to answer the door.

  “She’s got it bad, doesn’t she?” Ivy said.

  “I so don’t understand it, but yeah, she does.” Bryn picked up the phone and dialed the restaurant downstairs.

 
Jaxon had barely stepped foot into the room, when he spotted Clint and Ivy. The scowl he directed at Bryn was hard to interpret.

  “What? You’re annoyed by me, or you don’t like my friends?”

  “Being annoyed by you is a given. While I don’t dislike your friends, I don’t like them being here.”

  Clint flopped onto the couch and stretched out, taking up as much room as possible. “I claim this couch as my new home.” He winked at Bryn. “You don’t mind if I sleep here tonight, do you?”

  Jaxon glared at Clint and then stalked over to the table on the opposite side of the room and removed a notebook from his book bag.

  Bryn remembered something. “Rhianna, isn’t this the night you’re supposed to meet Garret for coffee?”

  “Yes, but it’s not until later.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider.” Jaxon flipped pages in his notebook. “Gathering together with the other injured students is like painting a target on your back.”

  “Then come with me,” Rhianna said.

  Jaxon’s hand froze for a second, and then he resumed turning pages. “I would be happy to take you for coffee someplace else.”

  “It’s not about the coffee and you know it.” Rhianna smacked her textbook closed.

  “I’m not sure if my presence at that meeting would help or hurt you,” Jaxon said. “I don’t think my father would approve.”

  “We already know he doesn’t approve of me,” Rhianna stated.

  Jaxon shot Bryn a look. “Would you excuse us?”

  It took her a minute to realize what he wanted. “You want me to leave so you can talk in private?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. We’ll go wait for our pizzas.”

  Bryn, Clint, and Ivy headed out the door.

  “That was interesting,” Ivy said.

  “Jaxon is trying to do the right thing, but he’s trapped between his father and the way he grew up and what he thinks is the right thing to do. One of these days he’s going to snap, and I don’t want to be there when it happens.”

  “You’re defending Jaxon,” Clint said. “That’s new.”

  How could she explain? “Even though I want to shoot a giant fireball at him most of the time, he’s doing right by Rhianna. He’s standing up for her, and I respect that.”