Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(102)

“Impossible.” Ferrin looked at Bryn like she was a slug. “Even if I could convince the Directorate to rule in her favor, who would have her?”

“I have complete faith in your ability to blackmail and scheme your way to the necessary number of votes. Check the lineage and figure out whom she’s compatible with. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Ferrin didn’t appear affected by her grandfather’s bravado. “If all you want is offspring, Merrick can give her a child.”

“Hey,” Bryn yelled. “No one is giving me anything. I’m not some brood mare on a farm. If you’d end this arranged marriage crap, I’ll do fine on my own.” It was probably best not to mention Zavien.

“That will never happen,” Ferrin said. “Arranged marriages help maintain societal standards.”

“Arranged marriages produce affairs. How does that maintain societal standards?”

Her grandfather cleared his throat and shot her a look. “Bryn, go inside. Eat. We’ll discuss this later.”

Spouting every cuss word she knew, Bryn stomped toward the house. Merrick trailed behind her, laughing when she came up with an inventive phrase.

When they reached her room, Merrick pointed toward the room they’d eaten in earlier. “I’ll have food across the hall when you’re ready.”

There was only one thing on her mind. “I want Zavien.”

“You’ll see him as soon as he’s recovered. In the meantime, you need to eat.”

Hunger competed with anger as her dominant feeling. If she could kill Ferrin and get away with it, she would. Maybe getting away with it wasn’t important. Knowing he was wiped off the face of the earth would give her a happy, warm feeling for the rest of her incarcerated life.

Since, at the moment, she had no master plan to rid the world of Ferrin, she showered, dressed in black pajamas, and stalked across the hall.

Merrick waited for her, drinking a cup of coffee. Platters of hamburgers, French fries, and pizza covered the table.

If he weren’t married, she’d kiss him out of gratitude. Instead, she picked up a hamburger and took a bite. It had sour pickles and the right amount of ketchup. Heaven.

Her grandmother arrived when she was on her third burger.

Before the woman could complain, Bryn drew a line in the sand. “I’m staying in my pajamas until someone provides me with a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes.”

“Let me make a call.” Her grandmother left the room.

At least she could have her way in some things.

Lillith and Jaxon came in while Bryn was eating a second slice of pizza. Jaxon wore black pants and a white shirt. His mother wore navy-striped pajamas.

“You didn’t want to join our slumber party?” Bryn asked him.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but your brand of insanity rubs off. In the sixteen years I’ve been alive, I’ve never seen my mother in her pajamas. It’s disturbing, and it’s your fault.”

Lillith gave a conspiratorial grin. “I’m attempting to work some of the Westgate out of him.”

“I’m sure Rhianna will appreciate your efforts.”

“Actually, I had another idea. The Directorate will have to check your lineage, but if Ferrin and your mother were a good match, then you and Jaxon might be a good match, too.”

Jaxon coughed and choked on his pizza.

Bryn spewed soda across the table.

Her grandfather spoke from the doorway. “What an interesting idea.”

Jaxon recovered first. “No. That won’t work. Rhianna and I have discussed our future. It would be rude to change plans now.”

“Jaxon should stay with Rhianna. I’m involved with someone else. You should let him out of his arrangement instead.”

“That’s a much better idea.” Jaxon nodded emphatically.

Her grandfather’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you involved with, young lady?”

Crap. He’d find out eventually. Better if he heard from her. She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “I’m dating Zavien.”

“You are not mating with that spiky-haired malcontent,” her grandfather roared.

Not the reaction she’d hoped for.

“You should remember the spiky-haired malcontent helped save several lives tonight.” Merrick was the voice of reason. “Besides, the Directorate will check into Bryn’s lineage anyway and figure out the best option.”

“No one would have to check my lineage if you’d let me date who I want,” Bryn said. “Think of all the work that would save.”

“Forget it,” Jaxon said. “You’re stuck like the rest of us.”

“Jaxon, be nice,” his mother said. “I raised you to be a gentleman.”

“That obviously didn’t take,” Bryn muttered.

“Bryn, be polite or I’ll insist you change into proper clothing.” Her grandfather sat next to her and selected a hamburger.

Her grandmother returned with a shopping bag. “What did I miss?”

Lillith grasped the woman’s hand. “I think Bryn and Jaxon should marry.”

A scheming smile lit the older woman’s face. “What a wonderful idea. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

Bryn moaned and put her head in her hands. This could not be happening. She wanted Zavien. Jaxon may not be evil, but he was an obnoxious, overindulged brat. Ferrin as a father-in-law was unthinkable. He’d probably poison her at Thanksgiving dinner.