Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(2)
She wandered into her bedroom and saw the four-poster beds with the gray comforters, the armoires, and the dresser. More furniture than she needed, since she’d never have a roommate. She’d grown used to living alone because no one wanted to live with the only known hybrid.
Nothing appeared out of place. She breathed a sigh of relief and joined Merrick in the living room.
“You don’t have to babysit me. I feel safer with the cameras.”
“I believe you are safer since your grandparents recognized you. Anyone feeling vengeful will think twice about crossing Ephram Sinclair.”
“I think my grandmother is scarier.”
“That’s only because you don’t know your grandfather very well. Now lock yourself in. I’m sure Zavien will be by to check on you soon.”
She followed him to the door. “Thanks for watching out for me and for knocking off the benefactor crap.”
“You’re welcome.” A smile played across his lips. “It’s for the best that I rescinded my offer to act as your benefactor, because if my sister and your grandmother have their way, and if your lineage check to Jaxon comes back compatible, I might end up your uncle.”
“That’s not funny.” She might not hate Jaxon anymore, but she had no desire to be shackled to him in a Directorate-sanctioned farce of a marriage. She crossed her arms over her chest. “If they try to set me up with Jaxon I’m claiming lesbianism.”
Merrick laughed.
She might be worrying about nothing. “Now that I’ve been recognized by my grandparents, do you think the Directorate will really take me off the ‘unfit to marry’ list?”
“Your grandfather wants the Sinclair line to continue. He’ll work toward that end, but it will take time.”
“I turn eighteen in two years. What happens if I’m not approved by then?”
“Fortune-telling was never my specialty. Concentrate on your studies and the rest will work itself out.”
Once he was gone, she headed to the bedroom to change clothes. Dressed in her standard after-class attire of yoga pants and a tank top, she felt much better. Now what? A quick check in the mirror showed a tired girl with red, blond, and black striped hair. That wouldn’t do. She focused her life force, or Quintessence, and imagined it as a ball of white light in her chest. She allowed the ball to drift upward, darkening her lips and cheeks, using it as makeup in a way that few students her age could do. It was a source of pride that she was so skilled at manipulating Quintessence. She couldn’t wait to start her classes in Quintessential medicine next year. Becoming a medic, being able to heal other dragons, was her dream job. Once she was satisfied with her newly enhanced and far more alert-looking reflection, she wondered what to do next.
The new book bag Jaxon’s mother, Lillith, had given her lay on the bed. And…she had no books. How was she supposed to get new textbooks when she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about the explosion at her grandparents’ estate that had incinerated her book bag and almost killed her? Maybe Zavien would know what to do. For now, she grabbed the spare notebooks and pens she kept in her room and tossed them in the bag. The final step was adding the silver pen with the tracking spell Zavien had given her the first night they’d met. The pen that had allowed him to find her at her grandparents’ estate where he had helped fight off Alec, the crazy radical Revisionist dragon who had wanted to kill Bryn and make her a martyr for his cause.
Knock knock. She shot across the room and yanked the door open. Her best friends stood there grinning at her. Ivy greeted her with a hug. Clint walked in balancing several cartons of take-out food.
“We heard through the grapevine you were back.” Ivy released her and headed for the couch. “Tell us everything that happened at the Directorate meeting.”
She’d love to share with her friends, but by Directorate law, it wasn’t allowed. “Did Zavien tell you anything?”
“He showed up at camp this afternoon and said you’d been officially recognized by your grandparents because you tried to help save Alec.”
“That’s the official version of the truth,” Bryn said. “There isn’t much else to the story. Although my grandmother did invite me to Christmas Eve dinner.”
“That’s great.” Clint set the take-out boxes on the coffee table. “Are your parents invited, too?”
After running away to escape arranged marriages, her parents had been banished from dragon society, and her grandparents had refused contact of any kind since. They had even refused delivery of any cards or photos her parents had tried to send. Now she might have a chance to mend some fences. “I’m working on that. How was the camping trip?”
“The only good thing we ate was s’mores,” Ivy said. “We’re starved.”
The savory scent of french fries filled the air. “That smells awesome.”
“Cheeseburgers and fries from the dining hall.” Clint offered her a white box. “I grabbed enough for Zavien. I’m surprised he’s not here.”
“I haven’t seen him since he left to go back to the campground.” Bryn sat on the couch and ripped open a ketchup packet with her teeth.
Ivy removed the pickles from her hamburger and passed them to Clint. “When we left, he was talking with Nola and some of those radical Revisionist dragons.”