Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(90)

Sometime later, Bryn felt something wet on her forehead. Blinking, she opened her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to make you presentable,” her grandmother said. “You’re a mess.”

“I feel better.” And she did. Her vision had cleared, and the numbness from before had transformed into a mild headache.

“Do you feel good enough to answer some questions?”

“Sure.”

“Why were you flying hell-bent onto the estate like someone was chasing you?”

She told her grandmother about the two Black dragons she’d seen.

“Why did you take a chance flying alone at all? Why didn’t your knight escort you home?”

“Because his grandmother is an evil woman who makes disgusting cookies.” She relayed the events of the day, leaving out the part about the almost-kiss with Valmont.

“Not the day you’d hoped for, was it?” her grandmother said.

“No.” And then she remembered what day it was. “Sorry about ruining Christmas dinner.”

“We can have Christmas dinner tomorrow night.”

Bryn’s stomach growled as if to protest that statement.

Her grandmother laughed. “Or we could have dinner now, if you like.”

Food sounded good, but showering and dressing in real clothes did not. “Can we have Abigail bring food here? I don’t know if I’m up for the hike to the dining room.”

“Of course.” Her grandmother reached for the phone on Bryn’s nightstand and called someone in the kitchen. Once that was taken care of, she eyed Bryn and shook her head. “If you ever go out flying alone again, I will wring your neck. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Her face heated. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just wanted to come home.”

Her grandmother’s expression softened. “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you call this your home.”

“Thanks, for everything.” Bryn didn’t know what else to say.

“We’re family. Remember, family always comes first.” She gave an evil grin. “If you want, I could have a health inspector shut Fonzoli’s down for a week or two.”

That was a terrible idea, but Bryn played along. “Tempting, but it would stress Valmont out as much as his grandmother, so we better not.”

Ten minutes later, Abigail showed up with a cart bearing turkey, ham, hot rolls, and all the food Bryn associated with Christmas. Half an hour later, she’d stuffed herself full and could barely keep her eyes open.

“Go to sleep.” Her grandmother leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Bryn drifted off with the sound of plates and cutlery being loaded onto the cart. That must be Abigail packing up the food. Her grandmother left the room. It occurred to her that the warm family she’d been searching for, the day she’d hoped for, had sort of come true right here.

…

Bryn opened her eyes and felt like she was swimming through fog. Why did she feel like hell? What day was it? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she felt gritty and her teeth felt furry and she wanted a shower right now.

Off with the covers, and holy crap. Bright pink lines ran up and down both her legs. Bright pink lines meant recently healed wounds. Her brain sputtered and choked and then it hit her. The new security system. The net. She traced her pointer finger down the line that cut across her thigh and then down another one that ran the length of her calf. They would fade, with time. If she focused her Quintessence she could probably make them disappear, or at least make them a lighter color. Maybe later. She pushed to the side of the bed and sat up. Bracing herself, she rose to her feet and tested her legs. They held her weight. She was stiff, but that was about it. Thank God for medics, or she probably wouldn’t be here.

She padded barefoot across the warm wooden floor to the bathroom, where she stripped off her clothes and tossed them in the trash. Avoiding catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she climbed in the shower and blissed out under the hot water. When her fingers were pruney, she exited the shower and dried off with a thick fluffy white towel, the kind she imagined they had at luxury hotels. Not that she’d ever been to a luxury hotel, but she’d seen hotel bathrooms in movies.

Dressed in her blue bra and underwear decorated with goldfish, she checked herself out in the mirror. Her animal-themed underwear normally made her smile, but the bright pink lines wrapping all the way around her body drained any humor from her brain. Water flooded her mouth and prickly heat broke out on her skin. She leaned against the cool marble of the sink and took a few slow breaths. She’d almost died. And she had no one to blame but herself. The nets. The feeling of terror…the panic she felt when the nets tightened…no one deserved that.

She splashed her face with cold water. Best not to think about that right now. Time to dress and head down to breakfast.

Her closet held a surprise. Next to the standard skirts and blouses she had to wear to school and the jeans and T-shirts she wore in her room and on the weekends, new clothes hung. To say the new clothes made her old clothes look like dirt was an understatement.

She pulled a black turtleneck dress made of the softest material she’d ever felt off the hanger and over her head. It settled against her skin like a cloud, making her smile. It felt like she was wearing a hug. Underneath where the dress had hung was a large shoebox. Inside, she found black leather boots that came up to the hem of the dress. She checked the mirror. For someone who’d almost been sliced and diced less than twenty-four hours ago, she looked awesome. Who knew clothes could make you feel this good?