by Chris Cannon
Good point. Should they risk the roof? There had to be another way. “Shift in here,” Bryn said, “and try to move your wings.”
“Is there enough room?” Jaxon asked.
“Let’s see.” Bryn shifted, being careful to keep her wings tucked to her side. Her tail knocked over the plastic trash can with a muffled thump.
Jaxon crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “Must you follow through on every idea that pops into your head?”
“Change back,” Rhianna said. “There isn’t room for both of us in here.”
“I don’t know if this is wise,” Jaxon said. “If you can’t move your wings, what will you do?”
“I need to know.” She moved around him in an awkward fashion.
The air around Rhianna shimmered. The scent of cold metal filled the air. Then Rhianna stood in dragon form.
Both wings were intact, thank God. Bryn held her breath as Rhianna extended her wings. Up they both went, but her right wing stopped a foot below its apex. Frost shot from the Blue dragon’s nostrils.
“It will be all right.” Jaxon moved forward and placed his hand on Rhianna’s flank. “You’ll be able to fly. After some practice I’m sure you’ll be able to gauge how high to lift your left wing.”
Rhianna returned to human form. Tears streamed down her face. “Your father…”
Jaxon wrapped his arms around her and made soothing noises. “Don’t worry about my father. I promise, I will take care of you, no matter what happens.”
Bryn’s face heated. This was a painful, private moment. She shouldn’t be there. Making as little noise as possible, she backed out of the room.
On the walk back to her dorm, she tried to think through the situation. What would happen to Rhianna if the marriage contract ended? Would she consent to be someone’s mistress? Jaxon’s words came back to her and his true meaning hit. If the contract were ended, Jaxon would take care of her, meaning he’d keep her as his mistress. In this twisted world of Directorate-controlled relationships, he was trying to do right by her.
What sucked was, that was probably the best Rhianna could hope for.
“Bryn McKenna?” a masculine voice barked.
She froze midstep and whirled around, ready for a fight. One of the new military guards bore down on her.
For a moment, she considered lying but her coloring gave her away. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to appear calm. “I’m Bryn.”
The guard looked her up and down, taking her measure. She must have passed the test because he gave a curt nod. “There’s a visitor for you at the back gate. The fool claims he’s your knight.”
“Valmont’s at the gate?”
The Red’s eyebrows came together. “He really is your knight?”
“Yes.” The thought of seeing Valmont was like a soothing balm. “Can he visit, or are we on some sort of lockdown?”
“I’ll sign him in.” The guard led her across campus. “He can’t stay long.”
Valmont stood between two auburn-haired guards built like pro wrestlers. While her knight matched their height, they each outweighed him by fifty pounds.
He smiled at her approach, and his single dimple appeared. “Come to save me from military arrest?”
The guards scowled.
“Be nice. They’re doing their job.”
Valmont addressed the guard by her side. “Am I allowed on campus?”
He pointed at a clipboard hanging by the gate. “Sign in. You can stay for twenty minutes. You must sign out when you leave.” He leaned forward so his nose was an inch from Valmont’s. “If you don’t sign out, I’ll have to track you down, and that will annoy me.”
“Understood.” Valmont grabbed the clipboard and signed.
Bryn took his hand and led him back the way she’d come. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I hadn’t heard from you, so I wanted to check in.”
“Things have been crazy around here.” Since it was a nice night, she led him to the steps on the side of the dining hall. “Mind if we sit here?”
“Is there a reason you don’t want to take me to your dorm?”
“No.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s a nice night and I spent all day in classes.”
He released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice grew thick. “Rhianna isn’t.”
“The sweet blonde from the dance? What happened?”
Bryn leaned into him for comfort and relayed the story of Rhianna’s injuries.
“I thought your medics could heal anything.”
“I guess not.” She blinked to hold back tears. “Now Jaxon’s father could void their marriage contract.”
Valmont’s muscles tensed. “That’s wrong.”
“I agree.” She sniffed. “That’s all the sucky news I have. What’s new with you?”
“I have acquired a roommate.” He chuckled. “My grandfather forgot his wedding anniversary. Until he can figure a way to get back into my grandmother’s good graces, he’s living with me. The man snores like a chain saw.”
“If you want any rest you’ll have to help him apologize.”
“He’s been leaving roses and chocolate on her doorstep every morning for a week.”
“That’s nice.”
“My grandmother doesn’t think so. She gives him the evil eye any time he tries to speak to her. Give me a female’s perspective. What else should he do?”
“I’m not sure.” Then it hit her. “Has he apologized in person, or is he just leaving gifts?”
“I don’t know.”
“Romantic gestures are good,” Bryn said, “but sometimes a girl needs to hear the words.”
“Speaking from personal experience, are we?” He arched a brow.
She gave a small shrug. “Maybe.”
“Has the spiky-haired nitwit apologized?”
“No, but he was next to me when the theater building was attacked. He chose to protect me over Nola.”
Valmont kicked at a pebble on the steps. “Then what happened?”
“Nothing, and it’s driving me crazy. I thought he’d find me and apologize, but he hasn’t.”
“So he’d be upset if you died, but he doesn’t want to be seen with you in public.”
Bryn elbowed Valmont in the ribs. “Don’t spare my feelings.”
“Believe it or not, I’m trying to keep you from being hurt again. Just because he doesn’t want you dead, doesn’t mean he’s boyfriend material. If he came to you right now and apologized, what would you do?”
The question caught her off guard. “I don’t know. If he’d come to me the day after the dance, I would’ve taken him back. He didn’t check on me after the first attack, but he tried to keep me safe during the second one.”
“If you hadn’t been next to him during the second attack, do you think he would’ve checked on you afterward?”
Acid churned in her stomach. “I don’t know.”
“There you are.” The Red dragon with the clipboard stalked toward them.
“Sorry. Has it been twenty minutes?”
“Yes.” The guard thrust the clipboard at Valmont. “Sign and go.”
The knight didn’t seem concerned. He leaned back on his elbows. “You’re early. It’s been fifteen minutes by my watch.”
The Red’s jaw muscle twitched.
This could turn ugly. “Valmont, why don’t I walk you back to the gate?”
“Fine.” Valmont stood and signed the paper on the clipboard. She grabbed her knight’s hand and pulled him along.
“If that guard’s temper is anything like my father’s, you don’t want to mess with him.”
He leaned in and whispered. “It’s my cosmic duty to mess with people. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“Please don’t bait the guards. They are large and angry.”
“Fine.”
At the gate, he pulled her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. She w
aved good-bye as he drove off in his red convertible.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning in the buffet line, Bryn piled her plate high with pancakes. The Blue male behind her raised a brow.
“Food makes me feel better,” she said. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not as long as there’s enough for the rest of us.”
She considered nabbing the entire platter of pancakes just to piss him off, but common sense won out.
When she joined her friends at their normal table, Clint glanced up. “Were you able to talk to Zavien before the attack?”
Ivy stole a piece of bacon off her boyfriend’s plate. “I thought we agreed to let her bring him up.”
He rolled his eyes. “We waited a respectable amount of time. She’s probably dying to tell us, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate.”
“We can add mind reader to your list of character traits.” Bryn poured syrup on her pancakes. “When the auditorium was attacked, he chose to protect me over Nola.”
“And?” Ivy prompted.
She slashed at her pancakes. “And nothing. He hasn’t apologized and I don’t think he intends to. As Valmont put it, Zavien would prefer I didn’t die, but he doesn’t want to be seen with me in public.”
“Ouch,” Clint muttered around a mouth full of toast.
“Exactly.” Bryn ripped open three packets of sugar and poured them into her coffee. “Any suggestions on what I should do now?”
“What do you want from Zavien?” Clint asked. “As a guy, I might be able to tell you if your fantasy has a chance at becoming reality.”
Sipping her coffee, she thought about the question. “I want him to apologize for being a colossal ass, and I want him to choose me over Nola.”
“Legally, I’m not sure that’s an option.” Clint said. “His family has entered into a binding contract with Nola’s family.”
Bryn smacked her fork down on the table. “Then why did the jerk start something with me in the first place?”
“I think he might truly care for you.” Ivy grimaced. “Though that probably makes it worse, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” If she could flat-out hate him, it’d be easier to let go. “Part of me thinks it isn’t his fault, it’s the damned Directorate’s fault for insisting on arranged marriages. But if he loved me, he’d fight for me. Hell, even Jaxon is fighting for Rhianna.”
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
Bryn leaned forward. “Yesterday, Jaxon took me to see Rhianna.” She told them Rhianna’s condition and what Jaxon had promised. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“There aren’t words for how much that sucks.” Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You knew about her condition right after the attack. That’s why you asked about wheelchair accessibility.”
Time to confess. Sort of. “I knew she was hurt, but I thought the medics could heal her.”
“Maybe they still can.” Ivy sounded hopeful. “At least Jaxon is stepping up and promising to take care of her. Who knows who she’d end up with otherwise.”
“She’d be in the same sucky position I’m in.” What a depressing thought.
“Promise not to shoot a fireball at my head for what I’m about to say,” Clint said.
Bryn nodded and clenched the edge of the table.
“You could continue your relationship with Zavien in the same manner Jaxon offered to continue his relationship with Rhianna.”
Anger burst through Bryn’s body like a volcano. Sparks shot from her nostrils.
“Idiot.” Ivy punched her boyfriend on the shoulder. “You knew how she’d react to that idea.”
Clint nodded. “That’s why I included the caveat about not roasting me like a marshmallow.” He held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Realistically, that is the only offer Zavien can make if he comes back. I didn’t think you’d be cool with it, but I wanted you to think about it.”
Bryn’s shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her body. “I can’t believe that’s the best I can hope for. My life sucks.”
…
By the end of the week, life on campus returned to semi-normal with an undercurrent of anxiety. The Red Militia wandering the campus both reassured and worried Bryn. Did their presence mean the Directorate expected another attack?
No one left any weird drawings for her to find, which was a relief. She considered looking up the symbol online, but was afraid that might set off some internal computer alarm.
Friday night, Bryn holed up in the library hoping to find detailed information about why Alec had hated the Directorate so much. Right before he’d tried to kill her, he’d said the Directorate had stolen his life.
What did that mean? Zavien had told her that Alec’s marriage contract had been denied and that was enough reason to hate Ferrin and the Directorate, but was it enough to want to kill Ferrin’s family and Bryn?
Miss Enid had tipped her off about where the Directorate housed the records of marriage petitions both approved and denied, which was why she was on the fourth floor of the library in a secluded corner surrounded by musty-smelling books. Some of the books were so old their leather bindings had cracked. Newer books, exact replicas of the ancient ones they were shelved with, held the most recent information. Names of the proposed husband and wife were listed together, along with a notation of whether they were approved or denied. Of course, the information stopped there. A reason for the denials wasn’t listed.
She shoved a four-inch-thick leather-bound beast back onto the shelf. Stupid thing must weigh twenty pounds. Had the damn Directorate never heard of computers? They probably recorded information this way to discourage people from looking things up. Too bad for them she had time to kill.
In one of the books, she found where Alec’s marriage petition to a girl named Analise Lane was denied. Alec had been offered another choice, which he had refused. What had happened to Analise?
After flipping through a few more books, Bryn found lists of benefactors—the men who kept mistresses—and the women they were involved with. There was only one name paired with each male. At least they were faithful to their mistresses.
Halfway through the book, Bryn found Analise’s name next to a male named Castor Wrenright. Her name was crossed out in different-colored ink and a new woman’s name was written next to it. What did that mean? Did mistresses get dumped? Talk about adding injury to insult. First you’re not good enough to marry and then they break up with you? That would be grounds for murder.
Bryn shook her head. Before she’d come into her power and shifted into a dragon for the first time, she’d never thought about murdering people in such a casual manner. Sure there had been a few snotty girls at her old school she wouldn’t have missed if someone had flattened them with a truck, but this new attitude was different. Was her temper worse now, since she could shift into a dragon? She didn’t think so. Then again, no one had tried to kill her before. Being poisoned and partially blown up was enough to sharpen anyone’s temper.
Fantasizing about killing Zavien didn’t mean she’d follow through with it.
What about dragons who did follow through with their instincts? In his Orientation speech, Ferrin had mentioned a student facing incarceration. Furious over the denial of his marriage petition, he’d burned down a Directorate member’s home. The Directorate must have its own prison system. Where were the records for that? They must be here somewhere. There was no catalog system for those books that she knew of, or had access to. How could she find them?
And then she saw it. Of course. More color-coding. All the books she’d checked so far that recorded marriage petitions had a midnight-blue binding. A few shelves over, all the books had red bindings. A quick check showed the books with red bindings recorded business deals. Green bindings contained medical records. Black bindings contained endowments given to various arts. White bindings contained family trees.
In the back of each of the books was an index, which allowed
you to search by date or name. Maybe she could find Analise’s name somewhere and figure out what happened to her.
An hour later, her head hurt, and she was no closer to finding the information she needed. It was like a giant scavenger hunt. She needed help. Clint and Ivy would help, but what if someone found out they were poking around? She wouldn’t put it past the Directorate to deny marriage petitions to people who questioned them. Best not to involve her friends. But who did that leave?
…
The next day she tracked Jaxon down in Basic Movement and told him about her investigation. He stared at her like she was insane. “You want me to do what?”
She should have known he wouldn’t come quietly. Moving closer so the other students couldn’t hear, she said, “I want you to help me figure out what happened to Alec’s intended.”
“And why would I do that?”
“You started this investigation with your questions about Alec and how he knew about my grandfather’s estate.”
“Yes. And that’s why you’re supposed to be investigating Alec, not this Analise.”
It took effort to keep her voice low. “Whatever happened to Analise is the reason Alec went homicidal. Why was her name crossed out? Are mistresses replaced once they reach a certain age?”
He stared off into space for a moment. “If what I’ve heard is true, it’s a lifelong association.”
“So she died?”
“That would be my first guess.”
Not good. “We need to find out how she died.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s this fabulous invention called the computer.”
“Do you think I didn’t start there?” Maybe she could appeal to his natural greed. “I bet you twenty bucks her name doesn’t bring up any information relevant to her death.”
His eyes narrowed. “Fine. Meet me in the library tonight at seven.”
…
Jaxon used his student password to sign in to one of the library’s computers. He scrolled up and down. His jaw muscle twitched as he glared at the screen.
“There isn’t any indication this Analise ever existed.”
“See. That’s why I need help going through the Directorate records. Or you could ask your father.”
