Bridges Burned (Entangled Teen) (Going Down in Flames)

by Chris Cannon

  Ten minutes later, the chair across from her was pulled out. Now what? Without looking up from her history text, she asked, “Friend or foe?”

  Chapter Four

  “Associate,” a male voice replied.

  “That’s an interesting category.” She gripped her pencil and raised her head. Onyx, the leader of the Revisionists, sat across from her dressed impeccably, as usual. The silver tie he wore with his black suit matched the silver at the temples of his hair. And it made him look like he was trying way too hard. Even though Onyx had given her a key pendant with a protection charm, she didn’t trust him. He was too slick.

  “What’s up?”

  “Zavien informed me you’ve used up the protection charm.” He chuckled. “Those normally last ten years. You’re a lot of trouble.”

  “It’s not like I ask people to try to kill me.”

  His smile widened until she could count his molars. “Too true. If you’ll return the key to me, I’ll have the charm replaced.”

  Her fingertips touched the dragon locket Zavien had given her as a birthday gift, where she kept the key. “Do you think I still need it? My grandfather did recognize me.”

  “That was an unusual turn of events. I fear there may still be those who wish you harm.”

  Alec’s wild eyes flashed in her mind. Maybe Onyx could answer a few questions. “How well did you know Alec?”

  “He was a brilliant but misguided young man.” Onyx’s face clouded over.

  Nice vague answer.

  “I’d appreciate if you didn’t put the anxiety spell on it this time.” Bryn popped the locket open and retrieved the small golden key with the red and blue stones. “Since I know what it is I won’t take it off.”

  “Of course.”

  He reached to take it, but Bryn pulled her hand back. “Where did the key come from?”

  “It’s something I had lying around.” Onyx’s fake smile came on full beam. “Given the color of the stones, I thought it suitable. Why do you ask?”

  Did he really expect her to believe that? “Someone told me a legend about keys like this.” She opened her hand and let the stones sparkle in the light. “They claimed the key would unlock treasure chests containing secrets the Directorate wanted to hide.”

  “An amusing fairy tale, and that’s all it is, I assure you. Jewelers made these keys to promote that sort of story. They considered it an act of rebellion because they knew such stories would annoy the Directorate.”

  That made sense, sort of. “So there are other keys out there with different-colored stones?” She sighed. “No magical treasure chest waiting in my future?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” He snatched the key from her palm and slid it in his jacket pocket. “I’ll be in touch, once the protection charm on the key is restored.”

  Onyx stood and headed for the stairs. Black material billowed out behind him. Holy crap, was he wearing a cape? She stifled a laugh. Who wore a cape rather than a coat? It was absurd, and it reminded her of Nola and all her flowing dresses. He and Nola would make a fabulous fake couple. And that would solve one of her problems.

  Bryn gathered her things and set out for Basic Movement. It was the dragon equivalent of gym class, but far cooler. Next to Elemental Science, it was her favorite class.

  “What do you want to do today?” Clint asked as he climbed onto a treadmill.

  “I want to joust.” Ivy punched the buttons for a fast warm-up walk.

  Bryn warmed up on her own treadmill while she checked out the raised platforms where students did battle with what appeared to be giant cotton swabs. At the moment, a blond and a dark-haired boy faced off. When the dark-haired guy knocked his opponent off the platform, she gave a silent cheer. Sometimes, the whole color-coding system made it easy to know who to root for. Not that she hated Blues, but Reds, Greens, Blacks, and Oranges had been far nicer to her during her time on campus. She couldn’t help but think that Blues were behind the carrot cake poisoning, and she’d bet money it was Jaxon’s father who’d arranged it. Not that she had any proof.

  At the far end of the room, Octavius and his mate, Vivian, the only two Orange dragons on campus, attacked and parried with wooden swords. It looked like fun.

  “I want to learn how to use a sword.”

  Clint chuckled. “No one fights with swords anymore.”

  Bryn pointed across the gym. “The Orange dragons know how to use them.”

  “Ask Octavius to teach you,” Ivy said.

  “I might.”

  When she reached the ring, Octavius and Vivian had ditched the swords and moved on to the hollow stick drums unique to their Clan. As thick as Bryn’s forearm, the drums were two feet long and decorated with black swirling lines.

  The Orange dragons performed a choreographed dance, slamming the wooden instruments together in a manner that made it look like they were still fighting with swords. The resulting noise was a resonant sound that reminded her of bongos.

  Vivian called to Bryn. “Would you like to learn? I need a female to perform the Chosen Dance.”

  That could be fun. Bryn climbed into the ring. “What’s the Chosen Dance?”

  “The women of my Clan have performed this dance for hundreds of years. Let me show you.” She passed Bryn a drum. The hollow wooden stick was heavier than Bryn expected.

  “First, do this step.” Vivian stepped wide with her right foot, and then stomped her left foot. She brought her right foot in close and then performed the move leading with her left foot.

  “It’s like a hula dance,” Bryn said.

  Octavius laughed. “Where do you think our bronze skin and brown hair comes from?”

  Huh. She’d never noticed that the two Orange dragons resembled Hawaiians.

  “Try your feet,” Vivian suggested.

  The foot pattern was easy enough. Swaying her hips side to side, not so much. Then again, it wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone.

  “Now, hold your drum out and I will hit it,” Vivian instructed.

  Bryn held the drum steady and concentrated on her feet. Vivian swung her drum at Bryn’s. The force behind the blows caused the sound to resonate around them.

  A melody rose out of the drumbeats. Bryn hummed along as Vivian swung her drum harder and harder. A bead of sweat ran down her back as she held her drum firm in order to withstand Vivian’s blows. The tempo of the song increased.

  “We will stop after ten more blows. When we finish, look to see who is watching you. They are the males most likely to choose you as a mate.”

  How scientific was this process? She surveyed the area around the ring. Zavien talked with Mrs. Anderson by the joust. What was he doing here? Didn’t matter. If he didn’t look her way, she’d hit him over the head with the drum.

  “Get ready,” Vivian said.

  Vivian smacked her drum against Bryn’s one more time, and then Bryn checked the area for interested parties. Jaxon glared from across the room. Zavien walked toward her with a smile on his face. Keegan waved from the weight lifting area.

  “You have broad appeal,” Vivian said with a laugh.

  “How do you know they aren’t looking at you?” Octavius asked.

  The bronze-skinned beauty reached up and traced her fingertips across his lips. “It doesn’t matter if they’re looking at me. I only see you.”

  Sparks practically flew between the two. Not wanting to feel like a third wheel, Bryn placed the drum on the mat and backed away.

  “Thanks for sharing your traditions with me.”

  “You’re different than the others,” Octavius said. “As are we. If you ever need a Clan, we would take you in.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  She climbed out of the ring, ignoring the backflips her stomach performed while she waited for Zavien to reach her. His black hair stood out in the usual three-inch spikes, but it seemed wilder than normal today. One corner of his mouth quirked up and her heart beat faster.

  “That was intere
sting,” he said.

  Interesting good, or interesting she looked like a dork? “Vivian needed another female to perform the dance. It was fun.”

  He reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Was it for a special ritual?”

  Unsure of how he’d react to finding out he was her chosen one, she avoided the question. “I don’t know if I’m at liberty to say. The Orange dragons are a secretive bunch.”

  “Yes, they are. It’s good you’re friendly with them. They make formidable opponents.”

  Her fingers itched to touch him. Going with it, she straightened his tie, allowing her hand to linger on his chest. The impulse to kiss him made her lips tingle.

  Zavien moved closer. “Have you seen the addition they’re building to house the new ice rink?”

  She shook her head. His warm fingers wrapped around hers. “It’s this way.”

  He pulled her behind the ring, out a door, and down a side hall. Where were they? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. Zavien opened another door, which led to a partially finished and deserted locker room. Before the door closed behind them, she found herself backed against a cold metal locker with Zavien’s lips pressed against hers. She fisted her hands in his shirt and held on as heat and electricity built between them. A low growling sound filled the room. Holy crap. Is that me or him?

  Zavien stepped back, breathing heavily, and stared into her eyes. What? Did I do something wrong?

  “Did you use Quintessence when you danced? Was there some sort of magic involved?”

  “What? No. It was just a dance.”

  “Sorry.” He studied her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “I don’t understand why I feel so strongly for you right now.”

  Splash. His words were like a bucket of cold water. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You’re always in the back of my mind. Right now, you’re all I can think about.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.” After all, she spent a lot of time thinking about him.

  “I suppose not.” He stepped away from her. “You should return to class.”

  Cold air rushed in to replace the heat of his body. Goose bumps broke out on her arms. Why was he acting so suspicious?

  She wanted answers to big questions, but would settle for something more practical. “What are you doing here? Why did you come see me?”

  “I stopped by to tell you I wouldn’t be at lunch. I have errands to run.”

  Okay. That was nice of him. Her fear receded.

  He laced his fingers through hers. “Come on. We better go.”

  Zavien left her at the entrance to the gym. Just walked off. Why didn’t he kiss her good-bye? Was he afraid someone would see them? Ugh. She would not do this to herself. He’d come to see her. Even if he’d acted weird, he’d sought her out. That was a good thing.

  She found Clint and Ivy waiting in line to joust.

  “Where’d you run off to?” Clint asked.

  “Zavien showed me the new addition for the ice rink. The locker room is…nice.”

  “Right,” Ivy said. “The locker room put that smile on your face.”

  Before she could confirm or deny Ivy’s suspicion, Jaxon spoke from behind her.

  “Did Zavien grace you with his presence before he ran off to see Nola?”

  What the hell? Clenching her fists, she turned to reply. “What business is it of yours?”

  His eyes shone like shards of ice. “I thought you didn’t want to be someone’s mistress.”

  “I’m not.”

  “His marriage petition has been approved.” Jaxon’s voice held a mean edge she hadn’t heard in a while. “That means you’re officially the other woman.”

  “What is your problem?” Smoke drifted from her mouth. The line moved, forcing her to retreat a step.

  He moved closer, crowding her.

  Ignoring the line, she stood her ground. “I’m not a mistress. This is different.”

  “Is it?” He tilted his head like he was confused.

  That old I want to set his hair on fire feeling returned with a vengeance. “It is different.” She had proof. “He’s taking me to the fall dance.”

  “Is he?”

  The air of disbelief that radiated from him pissed her off. “Yes, he is.”

  “If you say so.” He pointed behind her. “It’s your turn.”

  Good. She needed to vent some frustration before she gave in to her natural instincts and shot the mother of all fireballs at Jaxon’s stupid head. Climbing onto the podium, she accepted the jousting stick. Her opponent was climbing the ladder to join her when Jaxon approached and said something that made the boy climb back down, allowing Jaxon to take his place on the opposite podium.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He spun the jousting stick in his hand. “Isn’t this your dream come true?”

  Why was she arguing? Crouching in a defensive position, she swung at him. He blocked the blow. She braced herself for the return strike. He stood there smiling.

  “Hello? Aren’t you going to swing at me?”

  “No. I plan to deflect your blows. Eventually you’ll become overconfident, swing too hard, and fall off all by yourself.”

  She wanted to shove the jousting stick down his throat. Instead she swung at his shoulders. He blocked her blow, knocking her jousting stick downward. Since he wasn’t striking back, she turned in a circle and used the momentum to hit his thighs. Take that. He wobbled.

  Noise from the students below caught her attention. They had an interested audience. She spun again and struck at his hips. He deflected the blow with more force, and she had to shuffle to maintain her balance.

  “This is stupid,” she said.

  He laughed. “Class ends in ten minutes. Try again.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up. Wait a minute. Why am I enjoying this?

  She swung again and aimed at the middle of his jousting stick. One of his hands came loose, but he didn’t lose his weapon.

  “Well played,” he said.

  “It was worth a try.” Her shoulders ached from using the drum earlier, and jousting was beginning to wear on her.

  She swung at his hips. He pivoted and brought his weapon down on top of hers with force. Caught off guard, she slipped and fell off the podium.

  “Dammmmn ittttttt.” She landed in the pit of foam blocks, glaring up at Jaxon, who was grinning his ass off. Losing sucked on a normal basis. Losing to him sucked worse.

  She punched one of the foam blocks and struggled to sit up. It was like trying to climb out of a pit of marshmallows. Great. Now Jaxon would see her flailing around like a fish out of water. She needed something solid to grab on to. Twisting toward the edge of the pit, she reached for the wall.

  Pain, razor sharp, bit into her thigh, making her cry out. What the hell is that? She held her breath and tried not to move.

  Jaxon appeared at the wall, ready to gloat. “What’s wrong?”

  “My leg.” The sponges shifted, jerking the object sideways. Ripping, wrenching pain stole her breath. She gasped. “Something’s…stabbing…me.”

  Chapter Five

  “Stop the joust,” Jaxon called out.

  Clint and Ivy showed up at the side of the pit.

  Jaxon pointed at Clint. “Find Mrs. Anderson.”

  “How can I help?” Ivy asked.

  “Hold her shoulders so she won’t sink farther into the pit.” Jaxon removed the top layer of blocks. “We need to find out what’s in here.”

  “It’s going to be okay.” Ivy hooked her arms under Bryn’s shoulders. “I’ve got you.”

  Sweat slicked Bryn’s skin. She took shallow breaths. Not that it helped. Her leg burned like it was coated in acid.

  Jaxon removed more blocks, flinging them over his shoulder.

  The blocks shifted, forcing the object deeper into her thigh. Bryn roared in pain. She clutched at Ivy. “Pull me out.”

  Mrs. Anderson arrived. “Wha
t’s happened?”

  “Something’s stabbed her leg.” Jaxon removed another block and reached the source of her injury. Covered in blood, the tip of a javelin protruded from Bryn’s thigh.

  “Oh God.” Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. She focused on Mrs. Anderson’s face and took shallow breaths.

  “Quentin, get a medic.” Mrs. Anderson took Bryn’s hand. “We shouldn’t move you. We don’t know if the femoral artery has been cut.”

  “My arms are getting tired,” Ivy whispered.

  Jaxon climbed into the pit and placed one arm under Bryn’s lower back and one under her knees. “I’ve got her weight.”

  Medic Williams ran into the room with Quentin by her side. She took one look at Bryn. “Don’t move her. Let me treat her first.” The medic placed a hand on Bryn’s forehead.

  The familiar sensation of warm honey flowed over her body. When the warmth reached her thigh, the comforting sensation morphed into a blowtorch. Gasping, she dug her nails into Jaxon’s forearm. “It burns.”

  “I’m cauterizing the wound so we can pull the javelin out without too much blood loss,” Medic Williams said. “You slept through this part the other times.”

  “Look at me, Bryn.” Jaxon held her gaze. “You can do this.”

  “Almost done,” Medic Williams said. “There. Lift her off.”

  “On three,” Jaxon said. “One, two, three.” In a swift motion, he pulled her upward and cradled her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, ignoring the voice in her head screaming about what this meant. The extra campus security…the cameras…official recognition; none of it changed a thing. Someone was still coming after her and they wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

  “I’m going to set you down.” Jaxon lowered her onto a soft surface.

  She opened her eyes. He’d placed her on one of the mats surrounding the ring where she’d danced with Vivian.

  “Bryn, first I need to check and see if the blade was coated with toxins.”

  Oh God. She hadn’t thought of that.

  Warmth flowed over her body. “There’s no dark mass or strange smell,” Medic Williams said. “Rest now.”