Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(54)

“Ping-pong?”

He grinned. “My grandmother is the undefeated champion.”

“That sounds nice.”

“What does your family do?”

“Normally, my parents and I string popcorn to decorate the tree, bake cookies, and play board games. This year, I’m trying to make nice with my grandmother, so I’m going to her house.”

Valmont cringed. “Sorry to hear that.”

She laughed. “It’s funny. If you’d asked me six months ago if I wanted to wear a gown and attend a Christmas Eve ball, I would’ve jumped at the chance. Now all I want to do is go home.”

“You could come play ping-pong with us. I guarantee the food and the company will be better.”

In her mind she could see herself laughing and eating dinner with Valmont’s family. “Wish I could. But if I want to have any sort of relationship with my grandparents, I must go to the ball.” She shook her head. “My life is the weirdest fairy tale ever.”

Crash. Glass rained down on them. Bryn jumped back, knocking her chair over as a baseball-sized piece of hail smacked into the table.

“What the hell?” She met Valmont’s gaze. They both glanced up.

Crash. Crash. Crash. Glass flew as hail smashed through the windows. Valmont lunged for her, and together, they ran for the stairs. Once they were on the landing, he slammed the door to the greenhouse room. The crashing sound was muffled, but the pounding on the roof grew louder. People in the restaurant screamed. Valmont and Bryn ran down the stairs.

Valmont’s grandfather was shouting in Italian, and waving his hands directing customers who’d been in the dining room to cram into the kitchen. The back door had been shut, and wooden shutters had been closed in front of the windows.

Bryn ran to look in the dining room. Two girls huddled under a table, crying. They couldn’t have been more than six years old. Where was their mom? Hail flew in through the gaping hole where the window used to be and smacked down on the table, splintering the wood.

“Valmont, I’m going to blow fire at that window to keep the hail away while you grab those girls. All right?”

“Give me a minute.” He ran back into the kitchen and came out with a pot on his head. He placed one on her head and held a smaller pot in each hand.

“Good thinking,” she said. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

She took a deep breath and thought of the idiots who were playing with peoples’ lives. Fire roared in her gut and up her throat. She inhaled and then blasted a stream of fire over the table at the window, slowly walking toward it. As the hailstones hit her flames, they hissed and melted into steam. Valmont, keeping low to the ground, ran to the girls and put the makeshift helmets on their heads. With one girl under each arm, he ran back to the kitchen.

Once they were safe, Bryn moved toward the window.

“Bryn, what are you doing?”

Answering him would mean stopping her flames. The anger fueling her pyrotechnics raged inside her. She kept going until she reached the window and checked the street. Crouched against walls and in doorways, dragons of every color used their breath weapons to keep the hail at bay. None of them appeared to need her help, so she stayed where she was.

The hail banging on the rooftops was deafening. Then, as if someone threw a switch, the hail stopped. Ears ringing, Bryn turned to find Valmont behind her wearing a soup pot on his head. The pissed-off expression he wore, combined with his odd headgear, made her laugh.

“What’s so funny?” The pot shifted so it covered his eyes. “Oh.” He pulled the pot off and took hers off, too. “I suppose that did look ridiculous.”

“But it was smart.” She pointed back toward the kitchen. “Are the girls okay?”

A solemn look crossed his face. “Their mom told them not to leave the table while she ran down the street to buy something. Unfortunately, they listened too well.”

“Do you think their mom is okay?”

“I hope so.” People started filtering out of the kitchen, picking up their belongings and righting the tables and chairs. “I better get a broom.”

“Wait.” Bryn pointed to a group of Green dragons. “You three. Use your wind to push all the debris into a pile.”

The girl in the group opened her mouth, but Bryn cut her off. “Do it now.”

One of the Green males cleared his throat. “If everyone would go back in the kitchen for a moment, we’ll clean this up.”

Bryn and Valmont returned to the kitchen as well, but stood in the doorway to supervise. The Greens directed wind from their hands to push all the debris into the back corner. In five minutes, they’d cleared the floor.

“Thank you.” Valmont nodded to the Greens. “Much appreciated.” He pointed at the waist-high pile of glass and splintered wood. “I’m going to need a bigger dustpan.”

The rest of the patrons cleared out.

“I’ll drive you back to school,” Valmont said. “I’m sure they’ll be checking to make sure all the students are safe.”

“Please tell me your car is safe in a garage.” The idea of his cherry-red convertible banged to pieces made her ill.

“It is, but I’ll drive my dad’s truck, in case the hail comes again.”

“Maybe you should keep some soup pots in the trunk of your car for emergencies.”