by Chris Cannon
Bryn’s grandmother made eye contact with the medic but didn’t say anything. Valmont looked away.
Okay, then. “I’m about ten seconds from a panic attack.” And she wasn’t joking. Flames were igniting in her gut and the taste of smoke crawled up the back of her throat. “Someone needs to start talking.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Medic Williams asked.
“Falling asleep on the couch in my room while we waited for you.”
“That was more than twenty-four hours ago,” Medic Williams said. “And you’ve woken up about every four hours since then. Do you remember waking up here before?”
“No.” Bryn turned to her grandmother. “Is she serious?”
Her grandmother nodded. “We’ve had this conversation quite a few times, but you never seem to remember it.”
And the panic attack hit. Flames crawled up the back of Bryn’s throat. She focused on turning them to snow and exhaled sleet across the bedding. What did they mean she’d been awake before now? How’s that possible? Wouldn’t I remember?
“Calm down,” Medic Williams said. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t appear to be life threatening. We think a drug was introduced into your system which could cause repetitive temporary black outs.”
“Why?” Bryn managed to choke out the single word before ice blasted out of her mouth, hung suspended in the air a moment, and then crashed to the floor splintering into a million pieces.
“Bryn.” Her grandmother’s tone was like the crack of a whip. “You must maintain control.”
Right. Control. Control is important. Except control over her own life had been slipping away bit by bit over the past year. This was the final straw. She was done. And she was damned if she was going to apologize. Focusing on fire, she let the heat build inside of her, fanning the flames of her frustration and anger. Smoke poured from her nostrils with every exhalation.
Valmont stood and went over to a window. Yanking it open, he said. “I know you’re scared and mad. Come here.”
She stood on shaky legs and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. When she reached the window, she sat on the ledge and stared outside. The window faced a green space with flowers and trees. She didn’t want to take her anger out on them. Aiming up and away she took a deep breath and then blasted flames into the air, venting all the despair and confusion about the mess her life had become recently. When she was done, a lethargy overtook her. She reached for Valmont’s hand. He pulled her over so she sat on his lap and kissed the top of her head.
“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
She could hear her grandmother talking on the phone, alerting the school that they were performing a test on Bryn’s element, and she’d passed with flying colors. Nothing to be worried about. If only that were true.
“Can we talk now?” Medic Williams asked.
“Yes,” Bryn said. “I don’t foresee another mental breakdown until the next time you wake me up and give me this terrifying news.”
“I understand you’re stressed, but we need to work on this while you’re awake. From what I’ve been able to determine, the drug is meant to cause serial blackouts. It seems as if someone is holding you hostage, without holding you hostage, and they should be contacting your grandfather and the Directorate with their demands soon.”
“That’s freaking wonderful,” Bryn said.
“Better than actually being held hostage,” Valmont said.
“I guess. But it’s still not how I want to spend my free time.” Bryn sighed. “What if I drink a ton of coffee, would that keep me from blacking out?”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Medic Williams said.
“I’ll go order coffee and food.” Bryn’s grandmother stood and left the room.
“You should know,” Valmont said. “Your grandmother is barely holding it together. The first time you were awake and then fell back asleep in front of her, she didn’t understand what we were trying to tell her. Bryn…she thought you had died. It was terrible. She fell apart.
Way to make her feel guilty. Not that it was her fault she was sick or poisoned or whatever, but doing that to her grandmother made her feel awful.
“Let’s concentrate, people,” Medic Williams said. “We’re trying to figure out what you might have done or been exposed to that the others weren’t.”
“When we woke up, we used Blood Magic to remove the Tyrant’s Crown. We found the door to Clint and Ivy’s room and removed their crowns. Then, Valmont and I searched for doorways out, so I cut myself about ten times on his sword.”
Valmont sucked in a breath. “My sword. I was surprised they let me keep it because common sense would tell you to disarm the enemy, but maybe they coated the blade in something knowing we’d need to use Blood Magic to remove the crowns and search for doors.”
“That’s brilliant and terribly disturbing,” said Bryn.
“Give it to me.” Medic Williams held out her hand.
Valmont unstrapped his sword belt and passed it to her in the leather scabbard. “I’d warn you it’s sharp, but you probably already know that.”
“Keep Bryn talking, while I take some swabs from the blade and run some tests.” Medic Williams exited the room.
Bryn’s grandmother came back in the door followed by a Red pushing a cart loaded with coffee, sandwiches, and candy bars.
“Come here.” Bryn threw her arms wide, indicating she wanted a hug.
Her grandmother didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room and wrapped Bryn in her arms.
“I’m so sorry about all of this,” Bryn said.
“Why are you apologizing to me? It’s your grandfather’s fault this is happening.”
That’s new. But best not to ask now. “If this is freaking me out, I know it’s freaking you out, too.” Seemed like the simplest explanation.
Giving one more squeeze before releasing her, her grandmother said, “You have no idea. Now, it’s time for coffee.” She poured a cup and handed it to Bryn. “Let’s see if we can’t keep you awake for awhile.”
Bryn downed the cup of coffee without adding sugar, which proved how desperate the situation was. “We may have figured something out.” She explained about the sword.
“If they can isolate whatever drug is doing this, then maybe they can counteract it.”
Her grandmother’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” She answered and nodded along to whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying. “I understand.” She ended the call. “Your grandfather received a phone call from someone claiming to be responsible for your condition. They want Jaxon to escort you to a location they’ll pick. They claim they’ll give you the antidote if Jaxon brings the ransom.
“Why involve him?” Wasn’t what she was going through torture enough without adding Jaxon to the equation?
“Probably because the two of you represent the most wealthy and powerful dragon families.”
“What do they want as ransom?” Valmont asked.
“They want the deed to a large area of land where there used to be a mining community. They claim they’ll leave us alone, if we leave them alone.”
“Why does that sound too good to be true?” Bryn asked.
“Because it is,” her grandmother said. “We’ll never trust them to keep their word, and they’ll never trust us. It makes me think there must be something else on the land they want.”
“Or under it,” Valmont said. “Did anyone ever investigate where the root cellar behind my cabin lead to?”
“I don’t have access to that information. Let me make a call.” She dialed her phone and mentioned Valmont’s question about the land.
Raised voices could be heard coming through the phone. Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed as she hit the button to hang up. “Your grandfather didn’t have time to talk. Ferrin was shouting in the background. He doesn’t want to go along with the ransom plan.”
Bryn laughed. “Of course he doesn’t. He’d be happier if I dis
appeared. Jaxon could marry a proper Blue and keep the pure Westgate lineage he’s so proud of.”
Medic Williams came back into the room carrying Valmont’s sword and a computer printout. “You were right. The sword was coated in a combination of herbs I’ve never seen used together before. I’m assuming you don’t polish your sword with any strange herb-filled mixture.”
“Nope.”
“That’s what I thought. Now we should be able to manufacture an antidote. It will take time. Several Greens are working on it as we speak.”
A wave of tiredness hit Bryn. “Damn it. It’s happening again.”
“Can’t you give her something to keep her awake?” Valmont asked.
The medic pulled a vial and a syringe from her pocket. “We could try a shot of epinephrine.”
“Good idea,” Bryn said. “Because I’d rather not relive this fun conversation.”
Medic Williams plunged the syringe into the vial and drew out half an inch of liquid.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Bryn’s grandmother asked.
“Seventy percent sure.” The medic held the needle up to the light and flicked it for air bubbles.
“I don’t like those odds,” said Valmont.
“Shouldn’t this be my decision?” Bryn griped.
“No,” Valmont and her grandmother said in unison.
“It won’t hurt you to go back to sleep for a little while,” Valmont said. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
“We could have the antidote by then,” her grandmother said.
“I want the shot.” How can they not understand how terrifying this is?
The medic moved closer and held out the syringe. “It’s a small dose.”
“If I were in your situation, I’d insist on the shot, too.” Bryn’s grandmother sighed. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
“This goes in your thigh.” The medic moved the sheet covering Bryn. “And you’re going to feel it.”
Valmont grabbed Bryn’s hand and squeezed. “Do it.”
The jab of he needle wasn’t as bad as the plunger being depressed. The pain seemed to jolt her awake, or maybe that was the drug. The tiredness faded as Bryn’s heart rate sped up.
“I think it worked.”
“We’ve bought you some time,” Medic Williams said.
There was a knock on the door.
Bryn adjusted her sheets. “Come in.”
Jaxon entered the room slowly, like he wasn’t sure what he might find. When he saw she was awake, he smiled. “Have you considered asking them to name a room after you? You seem to spend a lot of time here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hello to you, too.”
Jaxon nodded toward Bryn’s grandmother. “My father doesn’t know I’m here, so if he contacts you, you might not want to mention it.”
“Thank you for coming,” her grandmother said.
He nodded in acknowledgment. “Catch me up on what’s going on.”
Bryn told him about the sword and their hopes to make an antidote.
“So we may not need to meet with the Rebels, after all.”
“We don’t know how long it will take to produce the antidote,” said Medic Williams.
“Where does that leave us?” Jaxon asked.
“I guess we wait and see,” Bryn said.
Her grandmother’s phone rang again.
Was this it? Were the Rebels about to make their demands? Marching off to meet the Rebels with Jaxon by her side didn’t sound like a wonderful idea. And if they thought she was going anywhere without Valmont, they were going to be quite disappointed.
Why couldn’t the Rebels move someplace and set up their own way of living? The Directorate was strict and their ways of thinking were outdated, but not all of them were as power-crazy as Ferrin. Her grandfather had turned out to be reasonable about most things.
“Bryn, are you all right?” her grandmother asked.
“What? Sorry. Just lost in thought.”
“Your grandfather suggested a compromise where Valmont would escort you along with a few trusted guards. Jaxon wouldn’t need to be involved.”
“Did the Rebels go for it?” Valmont asked.
“No. As a compromise, they suggested a meeting at your cabin in the tunnels behind your house but they’re still insisting Jaxon go with you.”
“Why meet in the tunnels?” Bryn asked.
“It’s a defensible position,” Valmont said. “We’d be at their mercy as we climbed down to meet them. I don’t like it.”
“We’ll make them come to us,” Jaxon said.
“How?”
“We tell them we figured out how they poisoned you and we’re not sure we even need their antidote, but to speed up the healing process we’ll meet with them in Valmont’s cabin. If they want the deed to the land, they have to send two men with the antidote in to talk with us. We can have our people in the forest waiting for any sign of trouble. They can have their own people doing the same thing, so they should accept the compromise. And that way we don’t have to go down into an unknown tunnel where they could be waiting to ambush us.”
“That might work.” Bryn’s grandmother made the call. After explaining the idea she hung up and said, “Now we wait for the Rebels to contact us.”
Ten minutes later, a knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Bryn called out.
Eve entered the room. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she had her arms wrapped around her rib cage.
“What’s wrong?” Bryn asked.
“Someone took Adam. They said if you don’t follow their orders, they’ll kill him.”
“Who is Adam?” Jaxon asked.
“Her boyfriend,” Bryn said.
“Why involve you?” Jaxon asked. “They already told us what they wanted.”
“I think they’re punishing me because I came forward as a Throwback.” Eve sniffled.
“Again, why would that matter to them?” Jaxon asked.
Eve made eye contact with Bryn like she was asking a question.
“You can trust us,” Bryn said. “We know you’re a victim here, too.” She wasn’t going to out Eve.
“The truth is,” Eve took a shaky breath, “I’m not a Throwback. I’m a hybrid.”
Bryn prayed her expression of surprise was convincing.
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “The Rebels, do you know them?”
“I’m not associated with them, I swear. What I told you in the interview was the truth. I just want to live my life and blend in. I want to be normal.”
“Your boyfriend,” Jaxon said. “Is he like you?”
Eve nodded. “Please. You have to help me.”
“If you help us,” Jaxon said, “we’ll help you. Tell us everything you know about the hybrids who’ve attacked us.”
“There are good hybrids out there, who want to live a normal life. Then there are radicals who want to overthrow the Directorate. They live in the forest in dragon form most of the time.” Eve spoke to Bryn. “The guy who died of an aneurysm at your grandparent’s estate? He was one of them.”
“Alec was a hybrid?” Bryn gasped. “What about his sister Nola?” Her ex-boyfriend’s chosen mate. “Is she a hybrid, too?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her anywhere but school.” Eve bit her lip like she was trying to decide how much to say. “Mrs. Sinclair, can you give me your word, as a Blue, that nothing will happen to my family and my friends?”
Bryn’s grandmother picked up her phone and then she put it down. “Yes. I believe I can give you my word as a Sinclair and Jaxon can give you his word as a Westgate that your family and friends will not be harmed.”
Jaxon appeared surprised. “You’re asking me to make a Directorate decision on my own, without consulting my father?”
“Your father isn’t here right now. Neither is my husband, but we are both intelligent Blues. I believe we can and should speak for the Directorate, since time seems to be of the essence.”
Bryn laughed. “We have the important matters taken care of. Eve tell us everything.”
“I come from a small town with other families like mine. Everyone is a mix of Red and Black. About a year ago, some of the dragons who live in the forest came to a town meeting and talked about how they wanted to change things. They tried to recruit us, but we’ve been taught since birth that it’s our job to fit in. So they didn’t have many takers.
“How old is your town?” Bryn’s grandmother asked.
“It’s as old as the Institute. Our town lore claims dragons who were denied marriages, and Mistresses who became pregnant, snuck off together and created their own community. As the town’s population grew, they knew they risked discovery, so everyone trained in Quintessence to hide their true coloring, like Bryn does with her hair. Any dragons skilled enough to blend in with the Clans attended the Institute. Anyone who couldn’t, or didn’t want to, was homeschooled.”
Bryn’s heart ached. If her parents had found a community of hybrids, they might still be alive.
“Are there other communities like yours?” Bryn’s grandmother asked.
“I believe so, although I’ve never visited them.”
“We need to know more about the Rebels,” Jaxon said. “Can you give us names of dragons who you know for sure are involved?”
Eve sniffled. “I don’t know them by name. I’ve seen a few of them on campus. When the merchants of Dragon’s Bluff had the fair a few months back, the Rebels were the ones who flew in and startled the guards.”
“We need more specific information,” Jaxon said.
“If I tell you, do you swear you’ll help me?” Eve asked. “If I tell you who he is, and he finds out—”
“We will do all within our power to keep you safe,” Bryn’s grandmother said.
“Onyx,” Eve said. “He’s the one who is always talking about how dragons should be free to make more choices. He’s the one who gave speeches at our town meeting. Some of the Rebels were with him.”
Bryn’s grandmother gasped. “That traitor.”
Valmont’s stare was a tangible weight on Bryn’s shoulder. She knew what he was going to say. “You’re wrong.” No matter what type of jerk her former love interest Zavien had turned out to be, he couldn’t be involved with the Rebels.
