Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(52)

“Tell me those tattoos aren’t permanent,” her grandmother said.

Bryn’s throat grew tight. Zavien had drawn the tattoos with permanent marker. Bryn used her skill with Quintessence to keep them vibrant, thereby avoiding needles. She’d requested the image of the Blue and Red dragons, head to tail in a yin-yang circle, because it represented who she was. Zavien had added a small black dragon on her right shoulder signifying she was an honorary Black dragon. She could remove the black dragon, but the yin-yang dragons representing her mixed parentage stayed.

“Do you dislike tattoos in general, or mine in particular?”

“Both.” Shoulders squared, her grandmother appeared ready to do battle.

Bryn took a deep breath and blew it out. There were going to be bumps in this road to reunion, but in the end it would be worth it. Hopefully. “If you can give a little, I’ll give a little. The yin-yang dragons stay, and I’ll make the smaller one disappear.”

“I’d prefer it the other way around.” Her grandmother straightened the sleeve of her blouse.

“It represents who I am.” Bryn smoothed her hands over the skirt of the gown. “Even if I remove the tattoo, people will know who my parents are. I won’t hide my heritage to make others comfortable.”

Fingers drumming on the armrest of the couch, her grandmother’s lips set in a thin line. “Fine. Now, let’s talk about your hair color, or colors. Perhaps you could pick one?”

That did it. Bryn concentrated and shifted the Quintessence in her body to color her hair neon green. “Like this, you mean?”

Lillith seemed overcome by a coughing fit, to hide her laughter.

Her grandmother reached up to rub the bridge of her nose. “You are your mother’s daughter. Aren’t you?”

“I am.” Maybe this wasn’t going to work. A hollow feeling settled in her stomach. “If you want someone to smile and nod, I’m not your girl.”

“You’re the only granddaughter I have. My hope is you’ll mature and grow out of this odd hair phase. For now, change your hair back, and eliminate the smaller tattoo.” Her grandmother turned to face the saleslady. “We need shoes and a small, tasteful handbag.”

“Emerald green is such a lovely color.” Lillith touched Jaxon’s shoulder. “A bow tie in that color would be striking with your black tuxedo.”

“No.” Jaxon spoke in a voice that mimicked his father’s.

Lillith snatched her hand back like she’d been burned. Her eyes filled with tears.

Jaxon sighed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Rhianna is still my date, and my bow tie will match her gown.”

Damn it. There Jaxon went again, doing something nice.

“I appreciate your loyalty, young man, but the argument is pointless,” Bryn’s grandmother said. “This morning I received word Rhianna and her family will be traveling to Europe over the holidays. Be that as it may, the tradition of matching bow ties to gowns may be appropriate for school dances, but not for an actual ball.”

Lillith sniffled. “Ferrin matches his ties to my gowns.”

Her grandmother gave a tight smile. “I see. Perhaps I am old-fashioned in my thinking. If you wish to buy Jaxon the matching emerald bow tie, please do.”

“I don’t believe Father would find an emerald bow tie amusing. If you’ll excuse me, I have homework to complete.” Jaxon headed for the door, pushing it open so hard it bounced against the wall and rattled the glass in the windowpanes.

“He has a temper like his father,” Lillith said.

“Which is why I wish you’d stop trying to fix us up. If you keep pushing Jaxon and me together, one of us won’t come out alive.”

Bryn’s grandmother rose and came toward her until they were arm’s length apart. “Do you enjoy flying?”

Was this a trick question? “Yes.”

“Do you still want to become a medic?”

Not knowing what was coming, Bryn nodded and waited for her grandmother to move in for the kill.

“And do you think your parents enjoy their isolation? Don’t they miss flying?”

She’d never thought of her parents in those terms before. When did they have time to fly? The simple fact that she’d never suspected they were anything but human told her how infrequent their flights must have been. A weight of sadness pressed on her heart.

“I can see it in your eyes. You realize now what they gave up. You will marry whomever the Directorate chooses if you wish to live this life.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“No.” Her grandmother reached to cup her chin. “I’m trying to save you. Understand this: marriage is a legal contract that produces children. Nothing more. Love isn’t part of the equation.”

Bryn felt her nails digging into her palms and unclenched her fists. “Did you ever love your husband?”

“No. And I’m better off for it.” Leaning in, her grandmother pressed a light kiss on her cheek. “I’ll have your gown delivered to our estate. You can dress there before the ball.”

Her grandmother exited the boutique.

“She’s right, you know,” Lillith said.

The blond woman looked so fragile sitting on the couch alone.