by Chris Cannon
“We needed someone to know that we aren’t all bad, and you were the only dragon likely to believe us. Not to be rude,” he stood, “but we should be going.”
They said their good-byes and left.
“That was interesting.” Valmont leaned back in his seat. “Do we have to paint more, or can we be done?” He gave her puppy dog eyes.
She laughed. “We can be done.” Bryn waved Clint and Ivy over. “I’m going to say good-bye to my grandmother, and then we can go back to my room.”
As she worked her way across the room, Bryn saw her grandmother arch a brow at whatever one of the women told her. Then she spotted Bryn and smiled. It was a genuine, warm smile, one she wouldn’t have thought her grandmother capable of when they’d first met.
“Are you finished painting?” her grandmother asked.
“Yes. I wanted to give you a hug and say good-bye before I went back to my room.”
The other women stiffened a bit, because public displays of affection weren’t a Blue characteristic, which was too bad. Without seeming the least bit affected by her friends’ reactions, Bryn’s grandmother gave her a hug and even kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t forget about Lillith’s baby shower this Sunday.”
This was news to her. Not that she didn’t want to go ’cause she did. “Did my invitation go missing in the mail?” She was joking, sort of.
“No. You were included in the invitation, which came to our house. I thought Jaxon would have told you.”
Bryn snorted. “He’s a guy. I don’t think baby showers are on his radar. But that doesn’t matter. The shower should be fun.”
An evil grin lit her grandmother’s face. “As payback for his lack of manners, the next time you see Jaxon, tell him he’s required to attend the shower, and it’s at Suzette’s.”
Bryn laughed. “Should I have Valmont take a picture of his face as I deliver the news?”
“Yes.” Her grandmother grinned. “On a serious note, I will meet you at your room, and we’ll go down to the car together Sunday at eleven.”
Good plan, since the last time she’d climbed into a car the driver had tried to murder her. And since he’d been killed during her rescue she still didn’t have a freaking clue why he’d done it. But, now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.
“I’ll see you Sunday.”
Bryn met up with her friends, and they headed back to her dorm.
“Did you find out anything you think is worth sharing?” Ivy asked from the corner of the couch where she sat with Clint.
Bryn couldn’t help but notice that Ivy had lost some of her enthusiasm, which was kind of sad but totally understandable. Best to keep the information she shared simple.
She told her about Sparks, where Adam and Eve lived and the confirmation that other hybrid communities existed. “So, not much to tell, really.”
“Let’s cut the crap,” Clint said.
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
“I know you’re scared. Hell, we all have a far better respect for the Directorate and the lengths they’ll go to in order to keep us in line, but that doesn’t mean I want to fall in line and be a good little soldier. If there is information out there about other hybrids, I want to know.”
“Are you sure?” Bryn asked. “I don’t want to be responsible for your marriage contract being voided.”
“If you start to share anything that makes us uncomfortable, we’ll stop you,” Clint said. “That way I get to decide how in the dark I am, not Ferrin.”
“Okay.” Bryn wasn’t sure Ivy felt the same way.
“Do you think Adam and Eve’s entire town of dragons is like them?” Clint asked.
“How would that even be possible?” Valmont added.
“I don’t know.” Bryn closed her eyes and tried to figure it out. “What if some of the mistresses managed to become pregnant?”
“Their benefactors would have to be okay with that,” Ivy said. “And I can’t picture a Blue being okay with that at all.”
“But we aren’t talking about Blues. We’re talking about Black and Reds, who seem far more…” Valmont frowned. “What’s the word I’m looking for?
“More reasonable, less volatile, far better looking,” Clint said.
Bryn laughed, happy to have the old Clint back. “Even though Reds and Blacks aren’t as anal as Blues, I can’t imagine they’d risk discovery.”
Ivy bit her lip, like she was thinking hard about something. “Maybe they’re dragons who have lived apart from the Directorate their entire lives. Maybe they snuck under the radar and lived in quiet communities. Adam and Eve told you about Sparks. Who’s to say there isn’t a bigger community of Reds and Blacks hidden someplace else.”
“Once you have one hybrid dragon, and they marry and have kids, their children will be hybrids, and when those kids marry, their kids will be hybrids, so this could have started with one hybrid a long time ago,” Valmont said.
“That sounds like one of those story problems from math.” Clint laughed. “If one hybrid dragon has two kids and they marry and each have two kids and the cycle continues, then one day there might be enough of them to populate a town, or take on the Directorate.”
“And the ones taking on the Directorate would be endangering the peaceful ones who attend school and try to blend in,” Bryn said.
“Which is why your grandfather and his cronies can never find out about Adam and Eve,” Clint said.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday, Bryn was happy to find herself at Suzette’s without Jaxon, watching Lillith and the other Blue women ooh and ahh over baby clothes. It made the normally cold and standoffish Blues seem far more human and likable.
And the pie was awesome. Bryn dug into her third piece of cherry pie, while her grandmother handed another gift to Lillith. It seemed her grandmother and Lillith had become friends, which was nice and terrifying at the same time. Nice because Lillith seemed like she needed friends, and terrifying because it implied to all present that they were working at cementing an alliance between the two families, aka the nightmare marriage between her and Jaxon.
Valmont stood on guard off to the side, with a polite smile plastered on his face.
“Isn’t this adorable?” Lillith held out a tiny tuxedo.
A tuxedo for a baby? Seriously? There was even a tiny bow tie. Poor kid. If Clint thought penguin suits were uncomfortable now, what would they be like for a baby?
Bryn leaned over and spoke to the woman next to her. “Can you really get a baby to wear one of those?”
“Of course.” She seemed shocked by the question.
No wonder Jaxon and his friends acted so stiff and formal. It had been drummed into them since birth.
Lillith unwrapped Bryn’s present next.
“Oh, Bryn, I love it.” She held out the silver rattle with Westgate engraved down the side so everyone could see.
Warmth bloomed in Bryn’s chest, somewhat filling the gaping hole left by her parents death. If she had to marry Jaxon, at least she’d gain Lillith as a mother-in-law. Oh, holy hell, are there drugs in the cherry pie? How’d I think that without flinching?
She smiled at Lillith. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You know, if things turn out like we expect, you could receive one of these one day.” Lillith beamed.
Bryn opened her mouth to object, vehemently and with great gusto and many obscenities, at the idea of giving birth to Jaxon’s children. It was bad enough she’d thought about marrying him, but having his kids deserved a whole other level of freaking out. Then she realized every woman in the room was staring at her. She swallowed her, over-my-dead-body response, and said, “It is a possibility.”
Her grandmother nodded, but Bryn didn’t know whether it was a response to how Bryn had handled the situation or if she was nodding in agreement. She ate two more pieces of pie to quell the instinct to run screaming from the room.
After the last present was opened, the guests said their good-byes. Bryn f
ound herself drafted into the role of hostess as she thanked everyone for coming. Lillith glowed, and her grandmother beamed almost as much. Valmont stood off to the side, with his lips set in a thin line. She didn’t think it was the baby shower that annoyed him. Ever since Lillith had made the remark about Bryn receiving a rattle with Westgate engraved on it, Valmont’s expression had seemed frozen, like he was trying not to show emotion.
She wouldn’t be too happy about listening to him talk about marrying someone else and having children. Once the last person was gone, Bryn started to pack up the gifts.
“Don’t worry about that,” her grandmother said. “We’ll have everything packed and shipped to Westgate Estates.”
Lillith clutched a small blue robe embroidered with snowflakes to her chest. “I’m holding on to this one.” She held it out. “It’s so cute.”
And here came the tears. Lillith wiped her face. “Sorry.”
“I’m surprised you managed to hold out this long,” Bryn teased, in a good-natured way.
The sound of someone clearing her throat caught Bryn’s attention. Valmont’s grandmother stood in the doorway, looking as cuddly as a porcupine. She nodded at Bryn’s grandmother and then spoke to Valmont in Italian and held her arms out like she was waiting for a hug.
His features softened. “I’ve missed you, too.” He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his grandmother.
Guilt hit Bryn between the eyes. She was the reason Valmont saw his family so infrequently.
“Come outside, Valmont, your grandfather wishes to see you.”
Valmont had been given special consideration by being allowed into the back room. He’d had to swear never to divulge the secret that there was a second, more peaceful room in the establishment. He could’ve met his grandfather in the floral farce room, but being outside would probably be nicer.
Valmont glanced back at Bryn, his expression conflicted.
“Go visit. I’ll be fine in here for a while.” Bryn made shooing motions with her hands.
“Mrs. Sinclair?” Valmont said. “Do you mind?”
“Bryn and I will wait for you here,” her grandmother said.
“Thank you.” Valmont headed out the door with his grandmother.
Watching him ask her grandmother for permission to do something struck a nerve. It placed him in the employee position, which he wasn’t. Actually an employee would be paid. He was volunteering. Crap. That idea made her feel worse.
“What’s wrong?” her grandmother asked.
Bryn shrugged. “I know he doesn’t mind, but I feel bad about taking Valmont away from his family.”
“He is devoted to you, isn’t he?” Lillith said. “After you marry, I guess he’ll go back to his real life.”
If anyone else had uttered those words, Bryn would have had the mother of all hissy fits. Since it was Lillith, and her intentions were never suspect, Bryn took a deep breath and pushed down the flames trying to crawl up the back of her throat. “That’s one way to look at it.”
Her grandmother raised an eyebrow in challenge. “How else would you look at it?”
Bryn sighed. She’d walked right into that one. “I don’t like to think about a time when Valmont won’t be there for me. Right now he’s such a comfort.”
“Once you’re married to Jaxon, you won’t need anyone else to look out for you,” Lillith said.
“You have no idea how much those words make my head hurt,” Bryn blurted out.
Both of her grandmother’s eyebrows shot up.
“Please. It’s just us. I can be honest. Neither of you are delusional enough to believe I find Jaxon’s presence comforting.”
“Reassuring might be a better description,” her grandmother said.
“He would protect you from all threats,” Lillith objected. “And that should be comforting.”
She couldn’t argue with a pregnant woman, especially one who might burst into tears at any moment so she said, “I never thought of it that way.” There. She had finally found a use for the social double-speak her grandmother taught her to use when you couldn’t disagree with someone.
On the ride back to school, Valmont was oddly quiet.
“How are your grandparents?” Bryn asked.
A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They’re fine.”
Guilt rained down on her. “You could ask them to come visit you on campus,” Bryn said.
He reached over, and despite her grandmother’s presence in car, laced his warm fingers through hers. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” she asked.
“Stop worrying about me,” Valmont said. “It’s my job to worry about you.”
Easier said than done.
…
Monday morning Bryn was up and out of bed before her alarm went off. A strange sense of anticipation tingled under her skin.
“How much coffee have you had?” Valmont asked as she bounced in her chair at breakfast.
“My normal two cups. Why?”
“You’re like a Mexican jumping bean this morning.” Clint yawned wide enough for Bryn to see his molars.
“Wait a minute.” Ivy looked over her shoulder at the tables where the Blues congregated. “Look at them. They’re talking with their hands and laughing and fidgeting.”
Valmont tilted his head and studied the Blues. “They’re acting like normal people. And that’s not normal for them.”
“I’ve got it.” A huge grin broke out on Clint’s face. “It’s going to snow.”
Just the mention of the word had Bryn bouncing in her seat. “What? How do you know that?”
Valmont laughed. “I should have guessed when you woke up before the alarm. I was too tired to think clearly.”
What were they talking about? “I don’t understand. Blues get wound up when it snows?” She observed Jaxon. He spoke with his hands, gesturing wildly in a manner she’d never seen before. “Yeah, that’s not right.”
“It’s puppy weather.” Clint sat up straighter like he’d made some sort of decree.
Valmont narrowed his gaze. “Please explain that so I can decide if I should be offended on Bryn’s behalf.”
Clint leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “It reminds me of how our dogs act when the weather changes. No matter how old they are, on the first cool day, they run around chasing each other and acting like puppies. Therefore, cool weather that hypes them up is puppy weather, and the first snow is puppy weather for the Blues.”
Valmont grinned at Bryn. “I kind of like it.”
“Puppies are cute, so it doesn’t bother me.” Bryn peered out the windows checking for white flakes. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay attention to anything today. Will this happen every time it snows? My grade point average might take a nosedive.”
“It’s usually just the first snow.” Valmont pointed to the windows. “And here it comes.”
Bryn’s breath caught as she watched fat white flakes drift through the air. She needed to go outside, to touch it, to glide, to exalt in the wonderfulness that was winter. Okay, that last thought was weird. Whatever. She thrust her book bag at Ivy. “Hold this for me.” And then she was up and out of her seat and headed for the door.
Valmont followed along behind her, chuckling.
Bryn glanced back at him and stuck her tongue out. “Don’t mock me. I can’t help it. It feels like Christmas morning and my birthday and a shoe sale all rolled into one.”
A dozen Blues made it outside before she did. When she stepped into the air and felt the snowflakes swirling around her skin, she shifted.
“Not without me,” Valmont put a hand on her flank.
“Of course not.” Once he was in place, she pushed off, flapping her wings and heading straight up into the sky. The snow was thicker the higher they went. The flakes skimmed along her scales like a caress. If the snow came down heavier, she wanted to roll in it on the ground. Wait a minute. Now she did sound like a puppy.
“Not too far,” Valmo
nt warned.
“Hang on tight.” She twisted mid-air and dove toward the ground in a corkscrew spiral.
When she was a dozen feet from the ground, she banked right and zipped back up again altering her path to avoid the other Blues who had taken to the air. In the back of her mind, she thought about how it was strange that none of them were vying for territory or insisting they had the right of way. They were just enjoying themselves. Why couldn’t it be like this all the time?
After a few more looping rolls and dives, Valmont said, “Clint and Ivy are walking to class if you plan to join them.”
Nooooooo. “All I want to do is fly.”
“Doesn’t matter to me, but Mr. Stanton might mind.”
Maybe Blues got a pass on the first snowy day. That would be the right thing for the Institute to do. Declare it a holiday, or a snow day, like they used to have at her old school.
No such luck. The Blues around her all headed toward the ground and shifted. Dang it.
“I reserve the right to pout about this.” Bryn swooped low to the ground and flew toward the science building. She landed a few feet from Clint and Ivy, and crouching low, she used her wings to try and balance her landing. She tipped forward a bit and had to shuffle her feet, but all in all it wasn’t an awful landing.
“Not bad,” Clint said. “I was afraid you were going to do a face plant in the snow.”
After Valmont dismounted, she shifted back to human form.
Ivy passed off her book bag. “Feel better?”
“Yes, but I’d still rather fly.” Bryn entered the door Valmont held open for her. “I wonder if I could convince my grandmother that we need to declare the first snow day a holiday.”
“You have my vote,” Ivy said. “Any reason for a day off of school works for me.”
Once they were seated in Mr. Stanton’s class, the restlessness Bryn felt earlier dissipated. She still felt oddly cheery. Would snow always put her in a good mood? That would be a bonus.
The door to the adjoining classroom which was used as a storage closet opened, and Mr. Stanton came out accompanied by a man Bryn didn’t recognize. He had the dark hair and dark skin of a Green dragon, but the look in his hazel eyes wasn’t one of curiosity like most Greens. It was more like suspicion.
