Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(3)

Bryn shrugged away from his touch and pointed at the red mark where the stranger grabbed her arm. “Does this look like I wasn’t in any danger?” The delayed reaction to her situation kicked in. “He talked about how I smelled.” Her adrenaline spiked. Acid roiled in her stomach. “Normal people don’t talk about how you smell.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He frowned at the mark on her arm. “You did the right thing. You found a well-lit place with people.”

“Who was that guy? How did he know my name?”

Her dad traded a knowing glance with her mother and then cleared his throat. “Help fix dinner while we try to explain.”

Food wasn’t going to cut it. She wanted answers. Acid surged from her stomach and shot up her throat, burning her esophagus. Pressure built in her chest. She coughed. Her lungs constricted. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak.

Flames exploded out of her mouth and shot across the room, setting the kitchen curtains on fire.

Impossible.

She had to be hallucinating, but it seemed so real. She could smell the smoke, taste it in the back of her throat. Her brain spun in circles, searching for a logical explanation, while her mom calmly grabbed the fire extinguisher from under the sink and doused the blaze.

“I never cared for those curtains anyway.” Her dad grinned.

“What’s going on?” Bryn croaked.

Flames shot toward her father’s head. He laughed and dodged to the side. “It’s simple. We’re dragons.”





Chapter Two


“We’re what?”

The dishtowels went up in flames. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. What was happening?

“Do this.” Her dad put a hand over his own mouth.

Good idea. She clamped a hand over her mouth while her mom put the fire extinguisher to good use.

Her father pulled a carton of chocolate ice cream from the freezer and set it on the kitchen table. “Don’t talk until you’ve had a few bites. Until you learn to control the fire, this will put it out.”

Sure. Ice cream was the answer. They’d probably have lots of ice cream at the nice mental facility where she’d be spending the rest of her life.

She took the spoon her dad offered and shoveled ice cream into her mouth until the burning sensation disappeared. Her parents sat on either side of her, staring intently. Fed up, she slammed the spoon on the butcher-block table.

“What is going on?”

“You can breathe fire.” Her dad smiled like this was a fabulous discovery.

Her mother’s expression became hopeful. “Do you feel a cold sensation in your stomach?”

“I just ate half a carton of ice cream.” Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.

Flapping her hands like an excited toddler, her mom said, “Concentrate on the cold. Take a deep breath and aim for the sink.”

“She’s a Red.” Her dad puffed his chest out with pride.

“We don’t know that.” Her mom leaned in and touched her cheek. “Try it for me. Just once.”

“What am I trying to do?”

“You’re trying to shoot ice out of your throat like a Blue dragon.”

“Right. How silly of me for asking.” Bryn concentrated on the cold sensation swirling in her stomach and exhaled. She gagged and coughed like a cat hacking up a fur ball. Three small snowballs were ejected from her throat. They splattered against the wall and slid into the stainless steel sink.

Her father laughed.

“She did good for her first time,” her mother said. “Ice is harder than fire.”

Great, a new skill set. Just what she needed. She rubbed at her sore throat. The pain helped convince her this was real. “Can I have some answers now?”

“We’ll answer all your questions,” her dad promised. “Let’s fix dinner while we talk.”

Bryn started chopping vegetables for a salad while her dad seasoned the hamburgers and her mom set the table. The normal household chores seemed surreal. The smell of burned cloth hung in the air.

“There are different types of dragons.” Her father slapped the hamburgers into the pan. “Our Clans are classified by color: Red, Blue, Black, Green, and Orange. I’m a Red. Reds are the strongest. We breathe fire. Your mom is a Blue. Blues are the fastest fliers. They breathe ice.”

Okay. For now, she’d go with that basic premise. “What does that make me, purple?”

The sizzling of the hamburgers in the hot pan was the only response to her question.

She set the butcher knife on the yellow plastic cutting board. “Hello…one of you needs to say something.”

Her mom filled the void. “By law, dragons have always married within their own Clans. Your dad and I ran away together. Technically, we’re banished.”

“So, not only am I a dragon, I’m the child of social outcasts. This keeps getting better and better.”

Her dad flipped the burgers and added more salt. “We never told you about our true nature because we’d been taught crossbreeding between Clans was impossible. When we found out your mother was pregnant, we were shocked.”

“Your father means thrilled.” Her mom swatted at him with a dishtowel.

He laughed. “Right. We were happy, but we had no idea what to expect.”