Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(26)

The town came into view in the valley below. It looked like a fairy-tale setting from a children’s book. The streets were set at perfect right angles. Red brick buildings sported bright, yellow awnings, which matched the yellow flowers in the planters lining the sidewalks. Old-fashioned, brass streetlamps, green with age, lined the streets.

It was almost too perfect, like the set of a horror movie before everyone realizes the town is inhabited by brain-eating zombies.

The shuttle pulled into a parking lot. When Bryn disembarked, the sweet scent of caramel made her mouth water.

Clint raised his hand. “I vote we have caramel corn for lunch.”

“That would be dessert.” Zavien pointed to the right. “Lunch is this way.”

Half a block later, the scent of garlic drifted through the air. Bryn inhaled and groaned. “Please tell me we’re eating wherever that smell is coming from.”

“Yes, we are,” Ivy said. “Fonzoli’s garlic bread is awesome.”

The aroma of garlic and an Italian flag hanging from the yellow awning were the only indications on the outside that this was an Italian restaurant. What type of weird restrictions did they have in this Stepford town?

Inside, Fonzoli’s was decorated with red, white, and green posters depicting different Italian food. Green tablecloths and red vinyl upholstered chairs completed the color scheme.

The other patrons threw curious glances their way. Once she was seated, Bryn blocked them out and concentrated on the menu.

“Welcome to Fonzoli’s. My name is Valmont, and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

One look at Valmont and Bryn understood how a dragon could fall for a knight. His olive skin, black hair, and ice blue eyes were a striking combination. When he smiled, a single dimple appeared on his left cheek.

“Do you have any questions about the menu, or are you ready to order?”

“I want a large pepperoni pizza.” She planned to eat it all by herself. Breakfast seemed forever ago, and she was starving.

While they waited for their food, Bryn said, “Since I don’t know anything about dragons, tell me the basics.”

Ivy grinned. “I’ll play the teacher. The basics, let’s see. We’re Black dragons. We breathe lightning, and we’re all fabulously creative and artistic in one way or another. Green dragons’ breath weapon is wind. They’re the analytical ones who become professors and medics. Orange dragons’ breath weapon is a sonic wave, like an earthquake.”

“Which means you do not want to piss them off,” Clint added.

“That makes sense. What’s their specialty?”

“They’re good with things in the earth, like mining and growing crops,” Ivy said. “And their numbers have dropped in the last few decades.”

“Is that why there are only two orange students at the Institute right now?” Bryn asked.

“There are rumors of an underground community of Orange dragons who live off the Directorate’s radar,” Clint said. “But no one’s ever come up with any proof.”

Valmont arrived with their food.

Bryn took a bite of her pizza. The crust was crisp and light. The sauce was tangy, and the stringy cheese was heavenly.

After she plowed her way through the pizza, Valmont came back to check on them, carrying a tray of lemon-shaped bowls. “Lemon ice all around? It helps ward off garlic breath.”

Everyone nodded.

Bryn dipped her spoon into the pale yellow ice and took a bite. A sour tang hit her taste buds, followed by a cold sweetness. Too soon, her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl.

“Want a gallon to go?” Zavien asked.

Ignoring his comment, Bryn said, “Back to my primer. Tell me more about the town.”

“You can find anything in Dragon’s Bluff. They have a drugstore, clothing stores, a jeweler.” Zavien’s gaze drifted to her chest.

Her pulse spiked. But he was probably only thinking about the key she wore under her blouse.





Chapter Ten

“I need to visit Bath and Beauty.” Ivy pulled a list from her pocket.

Clint groaned. “I love you, but nothing could make me step foot in there.” He turned to Zavien. “Is there a masculine store we can go to while they smell fruit-scented lotion?”

“There’s a computer store across the street.”

…

When Bryn walked through the door at Bath and Beauty, competing scents assaulted her. Flowers and fruits were the predominant smells. Soaps, shampoos, and lotions lined the walls in pretty packages. It was sensory overload.

“How do you choose?” Bryn asked.

A saleslady approached. “I suggest you smell different scents until you find one that makes you happy.” She handed them each a basket. “There’s a back to school sale. Whatever you fit in the basket is twenty-five percent off.”

Ivy pointed at a wall decorated with fruit. “Let’s start over there.”

Bryn ended up next to a tall blonde who seemed familiar. The girl sniffed a bottle of green apple shower gel. Bryn picked up a similar bottle and inhaled the fresh, crisp scent. “This smells great.”

Without looking over, the girl said, “My boyfriend wouldn’t like it.”

“He’s not the one who’d use it.”