Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(58)

“Everyone is afraid.” No one answered or confirmed her suspicions. “Are my friends safe?”

“You mean the Black dragons from your class?” her grandmother asked.

Bryn nodded.

“As long as they don’t have relatives on the Directorate, they should be fine.”

That was good. Bryn stared out the window of the SUV, watching the trees go by, consumed by one thought. “When we find out who murdered my parents, what happens to them?”

“No trial. No explanations. No excuses,” her grandmother said. “They die.”





Chapter Twenty-Two


Good to know her grandmother was on board with the revenge plan.

The SUV bounced over a rut in the tree-lined road leading to her grandparents’ estate. Bryn grasped her seat belt, needing to hold on to something. Which was funny, because with her parents gone, what did she have left to hold on to?

Time to block things out for a while. Hoping for sleep, Bryn closed her eyes as the SUV continued winding through the forest. When the motion stopped, Bryn woke. One look out the window showed that the building—she couldn’t think of it as a house—was as monstrous as she remembered. Five stories high, built of pale gray stone, it would’ve made a great set for a vampire movie.

Would this ever feel like home? Probably not. She followed her grandparents through the giant front door and into the main hall. The marble floors and granite walls of the foyer didn’t broadcast a warm welcome. Goose bumps pebbled her arms.

Up a marble staircase they went, to the second floor landing, where they stopped. Now what?

“I have Directorate business to attend to. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Her grandfather continued up the stairs to the third floor.

“I thought we’d choose your rooms.” Her grandmother gestured toward the right. “There are several suites in my wing that would be suitable.”

“Okay.” Rooms? As in more than one? Whatever. As long as it had a bed and a dresser, she’d be fine.

The only sound in the house was the clicking of their heels on the marble tile. This silence, this nothingness, would drive her crazy. She’d need a radio or a television for sure. They reached a door on the right hand side, and her grandmother gestured that she should enter. “Go on.”

Bryn grasped the doorknob and froze. “Are we sure there aren’t any bombs wired to the doors this time?” The last time she’d been here a bomb had blown her across the room, fractured both her legs and her pelvis, and burned off her eyebrows. Even though the medics had been able to heal her with Quintessence, it wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.

“Security did a sweep of the house this morning.”

“Good.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was decorated in peach ruffles and cream lace. Ick. Staying in this room would give her a toothache. She made eye contact with her grandmother. “It’s lovely, but…”

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“It’s a little too…”

“Frilly?” her grandmother asked.

“Exactly.”

“Then let’s move on.” Farther down the hall, they came to a door with a brass doorknob.

Bryn opened the door. The plain blue and beige color scheme lacked flair, but it was better than that froufrou nightmare. “This works for me.”

“There is one more set of rooms I’d like you to see before you choose.”

Was this a test? Would she be forced to spend the day playing musical bedrooms? All she wanted was to go to sleep and block out the nightmare her life had become. But apparently, that wasn’t on the agenda. She followed her grandmother around the corner and up a flight of stairs that ended at a small landing. The door to this room was decorated with carvings of a forest.

“Cool door.” She pushed it open and gasped. Light spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling windows and reflected off the polished dark wood floor. The room was decorated in every hue of autumn leaves. “It’s like a forest in here.”

“Your grandfather didn’t understand when I discussed this with the interior decorator, but I think it turned out quite well.”

“It’s so warm and inviting.” Oops. “Not that the rest of your house isn’t warm and inviting.”

“Stop backpedaling. Your grandfather chose intimidating and cold decorations for the main part of the house. He achieved what he set out to do. I prefer more warmth.” She turned for the door. “Come. I’ll show you my rooms.”

Interesting. Maybe her grandmother wasn’t as cold as she’d first thought. Back down the small set of stairs, they took a side hall and went up another flight, which dead-ended at a landing. Pride was evident in her grandmother’s face when she opened the door and ushered Bryn inside.

“Wow.” Sunshine spilled into this room, lighting up the amber and evergreen decor. Not a ruffle or scrap of lace in sight. Everything was simple clean lines.

Suspicion confirmed. “The frilly peach room was a test, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Her grandmother pointed to another doorway. “This room is my favorite.”

One wall made entirely of glass turned the small sitting area into a greenhouse. Orchids and other flowering plants lined shelves and tables, releasing a sweet floral sent. Two brown leather wingback chairs and a bookcase were the only other items in the room.