Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(64)

Oh, God. Doubling over, she breathed through the pain in her chest. Her parents were dead. She didn’t have any more tears.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. She sat up and met Valmont’s gaze.

He reached over and pulled her close so she could lay her head on his chest. “You forgot for a moment.” He wasn’t asking a question. He just knew. Which was nice. It made things easier.

“When will I stop forgetting?” she asked. “Because it hurts…a lot.”

“I’m not sure.”

Leaning against his solid chest, she felt warm and safe. He stroked his hand up and down her back.

What little energy she had left drained out of her body. “Do you mind if I close my eyes for a little bit?”

“No. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”





Chapter Twenty-Four


After Valmont left, Bryn found herself back in the small dining room for dinner, sitting at the stupid table that could seat sixteen people, with only her grandparents for company. Her grandmother sat at one end of the rectangular table and her grandfather sat at the other. She was in the middle, which felt like no-man’s-land.

Were her grandparents mad at her? Was that why no one was talking? Or was this how they ate every day? After ten minutes of listening to utensils hitting plates, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is this normal?” she asked.

“What are you referring to?” her grandfather asked.

“This.” Bryn pointed from one end of the table to another. “Do you always sit at opposite ends of the room and not talk?”

They both gave her blank stares. Great. “If it’s just the two of you, why don’t you sit at a smaller table? If it’s just the three of us we could still sit at a smaller table. Or at least we could talk.”

“What would you like to talk about?” her grandfather asked.

Okay. She’d walked right into that one. “For starters, what did you do today?”

Her grandfather wiped his face with the linen napkin and sat back in his chair. “I reviewed plans for a better defense system at school.”

She was surprised he was willing to share. “What did you come up with?” Short of a giant dome placed over the school, she couldn’t figure out how they would stop any further attacks.

“I can’t divulge that information.” His eyes narrowed. “You were there during the attacks. What can you tell me about them?”

She sipped her water and thought about the best way to present information to her grandfather. She should probably keep the smart-ass comments to a minimum.

“Well, the first time the campus was attacked, I thought it was an earthquake. It was only afterward that I realized someone had attacked using sonic waves.” She remembered Octavius mentioning the Orange Clan’s dwindling numbers. “There are only two Orange dragons at school and they were cleared of charges. What happened to the Orange dragons? Why are there so few of them?”

Her grandfather frowned. “That is a good question. I don’t have the answer.”

“So, the Directorate didn’t do anything to decrease their population?”

Her grandfather leveled a glare at her that could have melted steel. “Where did you hear such nonsense?”

“Uhm, from the one Orange male student at the institute? Because the Orange dragons’ breath weapon, sonic waves, are so powerful, he thinks someone is keeping their population small. Could he be right?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

She couldn’t help noticing he didn’t answer the question. Maybe it was time to change the topic. “The second time the campus was attacked, I was in the theater building. The building twisted and shook like we were having a tornado, and then it just stopped.”

“That’s when Rhianna was injured.” Her grandfather stated this like it was a boring fact. Like he didn’t care or feel any empathy toward the girl Bryn had begun to think of as a friend.

“I don’t understand why Ferrin voided the contract between Jaxon and Rhianna. So she has a limp. Big deal. It’s not genetic. She won’t pass it to their children. Other dragons were injured. What’s happening to them?”

“The Directorate offers anyone who isn’t comfortable with returning to school a private tutor.”

Smoke shot from Bryn’s nostrils. “The only reason someone wouldn’t be comfortable returning to school is because the Directorate and other dragons tell them they shouldn’t be seen in public. What’s the deal with dragons’ insistence on physical perfection? There are tons of people who survive and flourish with all sorts of disabilities. Look at Stephen Hawking. He’s the smartest man on the planet and he isn’t physically perfect.”

“He’s a man.” Her grandfather emphasized the last word. “We aren’t men. We are creatures, animals, it is our instinct to cull the weak from the herd. We can’t risk a dragon passing on inferior genes.”

And now her head was going to explode. “So if a dragon is injured during an attack the Directorate failed to prevent, injured by an enemy the Directorate failed to protect them from, that makes them weak? How is that logical?”

“Strong dragons will find a way to escape the attack or fight back.” Her grandfather said this like it actually made sense.