Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(80)

She opened her mouth to argue and then stopped. “You’re right.”

“Your grandmother takes hers plain.” He handed her another cup, which she accepted with her left hand. He didn’t let go of the cup.

“Are you planning on taking it back?” she asked.

His breath caught. “That’s a Vanleigh.”

“What’s a Vanleigh?”

“Your bracelet is a Vanleigh.” He released the cup and then pointed to the bracelet. “See the signature V on the clasp?”

She set the cocoa down to look at the mark he indicated. “Does that mean this is a limited edition one-in-three-hundred bracelet that your friends will be jealous of?”

“No. It means it’s a one-of-a-kind bracelet that most of the women in this room would kill to have. And you had no idea.” He shook his head like he was astounded.

“Do you know what I see when I look at this bracelet?”

“I hate to ask.”

“I see a pretty bracelet that sparkles when I do this.” She moved her wrist back and forth so it caught the light. “The person who made it, or how much it cost, doesn’t matter.”

Jaxon dramatically touched his forehead. “Take that back before my head explodes.”

Boom!

The teacups on the tray rattled. The Christmas trees shook, and everyone froze.

“I don’t suppose that’s fireworks?” Please, please, please let it be fireworks.

Kaboom! Boom. Boom.

“It’s lightning,” Jaxon said. He set his cocoa back on the cart and scanned the room. Bryn shoved her china cups on the cart and ran to her grandparents.

“Is this another attack?” she asked her grandfather.

“So it would appear. Marie, take all the women and children into one of the stormproofed rooms. I’ll gather our forces and launch a counterattack.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, damn it.” Bryn said to no one in particular.

“They don’t appear to care. Come with me,” her grandmother said.

No way. She wasn’t a sit-on-the-sidelines-and-let-the-men-fight-for-her kind of girl.

“Bryn.” Jaxon grabbed her arm and spun her around. He placed his white-lipped mother’s hand into Bryn’s hand. “Take care of my mother.”

Double damn it. “Sure.” She looked at Lillith’s terrified face. “It’s okay. We’re going somewhere safe.”

“I can’t lose this baby, too.” Lillith’s eyes were huge.

As if by some unspoken word, all the women gathered in the center of the room while the men stalked the perimeter.

“If you’d all follow me, we’ll head into the storm shelter,” her grandmother announced in an “Isn’t this a lovely change of events” voice.

Bryn put her arm around Lillith’s shoulders and guided her along behind her grandmother. She wanted to ask questions, like, is this a storm shelter or some kind of bunker they’d had built in case of attack? Asking that question might upset Lillith even more. What had Lillith meant when she said she couldn’t lose this baby, too? Had she lost other babies? How far along was Lillith and how delicate was a dragon pregnancy? She knew humans had to be careful to avoid certain things during pregnancy, but she had no idea how their dragon counterparts worked.

She itched to join the men in the ballroom, to help plan a counterattack. Even if she didn’t fight, she wanted to know what was going on. Damn Jaxon for putting her in this position.





Chapter Thirty-One


They walked down a hallway toward the library and then turned down a smaller hall, which led to a set of enclosed stairs.

“Be careful on the stairs,” her grandmother called out. “They aren’t very wide, and we don’t want anyone to fall.”

The steps ended in a well-lit room, or rather, many rooms which flowed into one another through giant archways. There were several sets of couches and chairs in various areas. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered one wall, and a row of shelves contained toys for children of all ages. At the far end of the room, wait staff set trays of cocoa out on what looked like an enormous buffet table. Platters of cookies and bottled drinks were also set out along the buffet.

“Is this some sort of bunker?” she asked her grandmother.

“It’s a shelter that can keep out weather or enemies, as the need arises.” She cleared her throat and spoke in a loud voice. “Please help yourself to cocoa or snacks and make yourself comfortable. Children, help yourselves to the toys. We have our own fully stocked kitchen. If you’d like anything besides what is being served on the buffet, just ask.

“Bryn, come with me,” her grandmother said in a normal tone of voice.

She followed, bringing Lillith with her. They stopped at a set of cream-colored couches. Once they were seated, her grandmother took Lillith’s hand.

“This shelter has enough food and provisions to last six months. The walls are designed to be earthquake-proof so that even an Orange dragon can’t blast through. You and your baby are safe.”

Lillith blew out a shaking breath. “Thank you. I know it’s ridiculous, but twice before this I lost—”

“No need to explain,” her grandmother said. “I understand better than you know.”