by Chris Cannon
“This is a house?” she asked.
“It’s an estate,” Jaxon corrected her from the backseat.
No wonder Ferrin had called their apartment a hovel. Jaxon’s home probably resembled this one. Her mother must have hated Ferrin a lot to give this up.
Of course her mom also loved her dad. Living a simple life full of love had to be better than living an extravagant life full of hate.
Merrick parked the SUV in a circle drive, which led to the house.
“I don’t suppose I could wait here while you go in and straighten this out?” she asked.
“You’ll be safe here,” Merrick said. “Your grandparents are excellent hosts. They wouldn’t let anything happen that might tarnish their reputation.”
It took a moment for her to realize he was joking. “That’s not funny.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Merrick unbuckled his seat belt and reached for his door handle. Bryn did the same. “No. Wait for me to open your door.”
“Another joke?” she asked.
“No,” Jaxon said. “Proper manners.”
She wanted to tell him where he could shove his proper manners, but losing control over a snide remark made no sense when there was someone trying to kill her.
Merrick walked around and opened her door. She exited the vehicle. Jaxon fell in step beside them as they walked toward the massive front door. Another guard checked their IDs and took Merrick’s keys.
The door swung open on silent hinges. She expected it to creak open like the door of a haunted house. She didn’t expect the first face she saw to be her grandfather’s. She recognized him from the awards ceremony at school. He stood tall and imposing in the entryway. His rigid posture and the down-turned corners of his mouth did nothing to make her feel welcome.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the foyer. Her grandfather’s gaze passed over her like she was invisible. He nodded to Merrick and Jaxon.
Seriously?
She opened her mouth to call him out on his behavior when Merrick placed his hand on her lower back and propelled her forward. “Not now.”
Maybe she could have stopped the growl that escaped her throat, but she didn’t bother trying. The sound echoed off the marble floors and granite walls of the foyer. In the hall beyond, the only sound she heard was the staccato beat of her heels on the marble floor. Maybe the downside to living in a castle was the noise.
Alcoves holding works of art lined the hallway walls. Some contained portraits. Pictures of her mother were nowhere to be seen.
They passed several rooms with closed doors. When they reached the fifth door on the right, a man stopped them. “We’ve prepared a room for the witnesses.”
Bryn stepped through the door and into an amazing library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls. A black leather couch and matching wingback chairs faced a fireplace on the left wall. Farther into the space sat a rectangular table surrounded by high-back wooden chairs. The far end of the table held a large, silver tray. An ice bucket, cans of soda, glasses, and assorted snacks were laid out for them.
Jaxon set his book bag on the table and fixed himself a drink.
Bryn turned to Merrick. “Now what?”
“Make yourself comfortable. Feel free to peruse the library. I’m not sure how far down on the agenda we are. I’ll attend the meeting and check back in an hour. If you need anything, there’s a bellpull in the corner.”
“What’s a bellpull?”
Jaxon snorted. Bryn ignored him and followed Merrick to a navy velvet rope suspended from the ceiling.
“This is how people communicated with servants before intercoms. These ropes were connected to real bells in various locations. Your grandfather insists the estate resist modernization as much as possible. Now the rope is attached to a switch, which sends an electronic signal to a switchboard in the kitchen.”
He pointed at a door partially hidden by a large potted plant. “That door leads to the restroom. Do either of you have any questions?”
Jaxon shook his head.
“Will anyone be joining us?” If a stranger stopped by, she wanted to know if she should roast him or introduce herself.
“The man at the door has instructions about who to let in. Only relatives are allowed.”
“I don’t find that comforting.” Bryn trudged over to the table and took a seat opposite Jaxon. Zavien’s bag of snacks went on a spare chair. As she pulled out her Algebra assignments, she became aware of Jaxon’s stare.
“Can I help you?”
“You can breathe ice.” It wasn’t a question. He’d seen her in the SUV, so there was no point in denying it.
“I can.”
“How can you breathe fire and ice?” He sounded confused and offended.
“My mom’s a Blue. My dad’s a Red. I guess I inherited both breath weapons.”
“Does Mr. Stanton know?” Now that sounded like an accusation.
“I told him the first day. He suggested I work with the element I was most comfortable with. Fire comes first. When I’m upset, I breathe fire.”
“Why’d you hide it?”
She shrugged. “I was enough of a freak already.”
He pursed his lips and went back to his homework.
Bryn stared at the equations on her paper. Her brain felt sluggish. Caffeine might help. Since Jaxon drank a soda and was fine, she figured it was safe. Soda in hand, she settled back into her seat.
“What’s the deal with you and Zavien?” Jaxon asked.
No way was she telling him the truth. Since he was being civil, she’d answer as best she could. “He’s a friend who’s keeping me safe, like Merrick.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “What happened between you and my uncle in the art store?”
“No comment.”
“He has a villa in Tuscany.”
“How nice for him,” she bit out.
He picked up his pencil, tapped it on the table, and stared.
“You can tap that pencil until your hand falls off. I’m not discussing Italy with you.”
“Fine. Why’d you hide your identity?”
She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“My father said you had strawberry blond hair.”
He didn’t need to know about her use of Quintessence. “I colored my hair before I came to school. I wanted a change.”
Hoping the interrogation was over, she went back to her equations.
The door to the library opened. Ferrin entered. Great. Just who she wanted to see.
Jaxon stood to greet his father. Weird.
Ferrin stopped a few feet from his son. “I find you in strange company. Explain yourself.”
“Merrick asked if I’d bear witness. He explained the Directorate would question Bryn’s credibility due to her mother’s reputation. It was the honorable thing to do. I’ll benefit from today’s actions as well. Half the campus thinks I was behind the attack. This proves otherwise.”
So that was why he’d agreed to do this. She should have known it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart.
“It’s a bold move,” Ferrin stated. “You’ll clear suspicion and honor the family name.”
“Thank you, Father.” Jaxon’s posture relaxed.
Ferrin turned to her. “What do you think of your grandparents’ home?”
She sensed an attack, but didn’t know how to avoid it. “This place reminds me of a museum. It’s full of beautiful things, but there’s no warmth.”
“I suppose your parents’ miniscule apartment has warmth?”
“My parents’ apartment is small but cozy.”
“I’ve always thought of cozy as a synonym for shabby.” Ferrin sniffed. “Perhaps you’re too ignorant to know the difference.”
Did he expect her to lose control? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Insult me all you like. I’m not here to spar with you. I won’t sink to your level.”
Ferrin placed both hands on the table and lean
ed toward her. “You’ve no idea what waits for you when you speak before the Directorate.”
“I’m sure the theme of the day will be ‘blame-the-victim’.”
“You’re smarter than I thought.” He straightened and faced his son. “Remember who you represent.” With that final command, he left the room.
Bryn congratulated herself on not losing her temper. In honor of her self-control, she decided to reward herself with chocolate. She reached into her book bag for the candy bars Clint packed. Her hand closed around a cold, hard object. It was the silver pen Zavien had given her the first night they’d spoken.
She’d tossed it into her bag and forgotten about it. It was comforting to know he could find her. Dropping the pen back into the bag, she fished around for candy bars. After choosing a chocolate almond bar, she held the others out to Jaxon. “Want one?”
He acted like she’d offered him a venomous snake. “Why are you offering me candy?”
Good question. Maybe it was because compared to his father, he didn’t seem quite so evil. She shrugged. “I didn’t want to be rude.”
Bryn tore open the wrapper and took a bite. Nuts and chocolate combined in a sweet and salty blend of pure bliss. If the Directorate denied her petition to become a medic, maybe she’d become a chocolatier.
Jaxon rubbed his temples. “Don’t bother being nice to me. It won’t change things.”
And now they were down to the crux of it. “I know you were raised to hate me, but I wasn’t raised to hate anyone. If you didn’t constantly insult me, I wouldn’t feel the need to fight back.”
Frowning, Jaxon stared at his paper. He scratched out a few answers. Without looking up, he said, “What are your parents like?”
Thinking of her parents brought a lump to her throat. “They’re loving and funny and smart. My dad threatens to shove people’s heads through walls when he’s upset. My mom is irreverent. They taught me to stand up for myself.”
She wanted to ask about his mother, but the library door opened, and a blond woman entered, appearing uncertain if her presence was allowed.
Jaxon stood and moved across the room to greet her. “Mother, how are you?”
She touched his face. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
That’s it? No hugs? What’s wrong with these people?
“Come sit with me.” Jaxon’s mother gestured toward the couch.
“Of course, Mother.”
Bryn tried to fade into the woodwork so she wouldn’t interrupt their weirdly formal reunion.
“The house is too quiet without you, so I bought a kitten.” The woman laughed like a child who’d gotten away with something.
“Does Father know?” Jaxon asked.
His tone of voice made Bryn fear for the cat.
“Your father ranted in his usual fashion. I told him if he could have a mistress, I could have a pet. There wasn’t much he could say to that.”
Jaxon averted his gaze. “You know?”
His mother sighed. “Of course I do. Your father isn’t as clever as he thinks.”
“I’ve felt guilty…knowing.”
“Your father never should have let you find out, but it wasn’t your place to tell me. I do hope you’ll treat Rhianna with more respect than your father has shown me.”
“Mother—”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Rhianna may not be who you would have chosen, but I expect you to treat her well. Let’s change the subject. I’m proud of what you’re doing today. The fact that you’ve stepped forward shows you’re a good man. Now, I’m sure Bryn is mortified to have heard our family business. Perhaps you should introduce us.”
Jaxon’s face colored. He spoke in a tight voice. “Bryn, would you care to join us?”
She’d rather run naked through the dining hall, but couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse. Plastering a smile on her face, she joined them by the fire.
“Hello, Mrs. Westgate. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Bryn. I’m sorry you’ve been put through such trauma. Jaxon called me after witnessing your condition. I’ve no idea what someone hoped to accomplish by poisoning you.”
“Me either.” She struggled to come up with another topic. “What type of kitten did you adopt?”
“I have a picture.” Mrs. Westgate sorted through an ornate beaded handbag. One of the items she removed was a small, blue envelope. The handwriting on the envelope was Bryn’s own looping scrawl.
Unbelievable. Mrs. Westgate had the thank you card she’d given Zavien to mail. Jaxon’s mother had paid for the extra medics.
She fought the impulse to laugh. Jaxon’s father had more than likely poisoned her. His mother had helped to save her. If Jaxon didn’t end up schizophrenic, it would be a miracle.
As Mrs. Westgate placed the card back in her handbag, Bryn caught her gaze and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
The blond woman smiled. “Here it is.” She passed the photo to Jaxon, who looked at it politely before passing it on to her. A black ball of fluff with white feet lay on a blue velvet pillow.
“She’s adorable,” Bryn said. “I always wanted a pet, but we never had a yard.”
“How’d you know it’s a girl?” Jaxon asked.
“There are rhinestones on the collar.” Bryn pointed at the photo.
Jaxon examined the picture. “Is that the diamond bracelet father gave you for Christmas last year?”
His mom chuckled. “It is. When she outgrows it, I’ll have a proper collar made.”
Wow. “Your kitten is wearing diamonds?”
Jaxon raised an eyebrow and spoke in a snooty tone. “She is a Westgate.”
His mother laughed. Bryn figured it was all right to join in.
The door opened, and Merrick stepped inside. “Lillith, it’s nice to see you in a good mood.”
“Jaxon knows how to make me laugh.” She stood and brushed her hands down the front of her dress. “I suppose I have to pretend to be a serious adult now. If you need anything, call me.”
Turning to Bryn, she said, “Don’t let the Directorate upset you. They’re betting you’re an emotional female. Show them you have common sense and a backbone, and you’ll earn their respect.”
“I’ll try to remain calm,” Bryn said. “Watch out for stray fireballs if they tick me off.”
Jaxon escorted his mother to the door. He kissed her cheek and shut the door once she’d cleared the threshold.
Merrick ushered him back to the couch. “They’ll be ready for us in ten minutes. Lillith gave you good advice. The members of the Directorate are powerful men who believe they rule the world, and in some cases, they do. Answer their questions honestly. No matter what they say, don’t let them know they’ve wounded you.”
Bryn slumped on the couch. “Have I mentioned my life sucks?” She glanced at Jaxon. “Thanks for helping today. I know it wasn’t an easy choice.”
He nodded.
Another knock sounded on the door. Ferrin stuck his head in. “Jaxon, I need to speak with you. Bring your things.”
Jaxon packed his book bag and walked to meet his father.
Closing her eyes, Bryn took a deep breath and visualized flying in the night sky. Once she felt centered, she opened her eyes. “I’m ready.”
“I don’t know if we’ll return to this room.”
She gathered her belongings while Merrick waited by the door. Jaxon reappeared in the doorway. He spoke quietly to his uncle while she threw her candy bar wrapper away. To be on the safe side, she decided to use the restroom.
“I need a minute.” She set her bags on the couch and walked past the large potted plant. The handle of the door was stiff and hard to turn. She heard a click and pulled. Nothing happened. Was it too much to ask for one thing to go right today? She yanked harder.
The force of the explosion blew her backward. Heat seared her skin. Debris rained down, slashing at her face and arms. Me
rrick screamed her name as she flew backward and crashed down on the marble floor. Razor sharp pain shot through her back and legs a moment before her head smacked the rock-hard floor. Stars exploded in front of her eyes, and the world faded from view.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A man whispered her name. She ignored him. It would hurt too much to wake up. Drifting along the edge of consciousness, she wondered if it was worth waking at all. Her parents’ faces came to mind. Not wanting to hurt them, she focused on the voice. No, make that voices. Whispers were coming at her from all sides. What were they trying to tell her? Why wouldn’t they speak up?
Voices blared like random car horns. She flinched.
“You can hear us now, can’t you?” a man’s voice said.
“Yes. It hurts.”
“That’s normal. We restored your eardrums. They’ll be sensitive for a while,” a woman’s voice said.
“My eardrums?”
“The force of the explosion blew them out.”
Not a comforting thought. Where was she? Focusing on her surroundings, she realized she was lying on something soft. Several hands pressed against her body. Quintessence flowed through her limbs like warm honey.
How had she hurt herself? Her brain wasn’t up to full speed. There had been a loud noise and then burning pain. She winced as her mind replayed the scenario of flying backward across the room. Damaged eardrums were probably the least of her injuries.
She took a shuddering breath. “How bad is it?”
“You’re going to be fine.” She turned her head to the sound of Merrick’s voice. His features were indistinct.
Panic flared in her gut. “Why can’t I see?”
He grabbed her hand when she reached to rub her eyes. “The medics applied a healing gel to your eyes. Once it wears off, your vision will be restored.” He held her hand and gave it a small squeeze.
It dawned on her that someone had tried to kill her again. “Damn it, Merrick. You said I’d be safe.”
“I never dreamed someone could infiltrate your grandfather’s estate. It’s a relief to see you’re angry. It means you’re feeling better.”
“Was anyone else hurt?” she asked.
