Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(6)

“It was my first try. I’m sure you didn’t do any better.”

“On the contrary, I’m a Blue. I’ve been graceful since the day I was born.”

“I see you’re still an arrogant prick.” Her dad placed a steadying arm around Bryn’s shoulders. “You did great. Don’t let him bother you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She didn’t know exactly who this jerk was, but she knew who he represented and what he probably wanted. “I’m not going to your school.”

Ferrin’s nostrils flared. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“Why don’t we go upstairs?” her mother said. “There’s no reason we can’t discuss this rationally.”

Ferrin glanced around the studio with obvious distaste and then followed her mom. “I’ve always wondered what kind of hovel you lived in. This is worse than I imagined.”

When he was out of earshot, Bryn said, “Tell me you hit that guy at least once.”

“I broke his nose,” her dad stated with pride.

“Good.” She trudged toward the stairs with one thought in mind. Please don’t let Ferrin be in charge of my future.

Once she was seated at the kitchen table, Bryn found herself the object of intense scrutiny.

Ferrin studied her like she was an interesting variety of mold. “How old are you?”

No harm in answering that. “I’ll be sixteen next week.”

He nodded. “When did you come into your powers?”

“Why do you care?”

“You can answer my questions here, or I can extradite you to a secure location where proper incentive will secure your cooperation.” The cold tone he used to deliver this information made it all the more disturbing.

Her dad’s fist hit the table. “If you think I’m letting you take my daughter—”

“Bryn,” her mom prompted, sounding like she wanted to avoid a fight.

“Fine.” Bryn rolled her eyes. “Today. Everything started today.”

“What triggered your transformation?”

“I’m sure you know about my visitor.”

“I do.” He tilted his head. “What did you discuss?”

Just because she had to cooperate didn’t mean she had to play nice. “He said I was about to be shipped off to a school run by elitist assholes.”

Ferrin blinked. “Your daughter has a lovely vocabulary. You must be proud.”

“If she said something untrue, I might feel the need to correct her,” her mom shot back.

The way Ferrin’s eyebrows slammed together warmed Bryn’s heart. He turned his glare back on her, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. “What else did he tell you?”

“He said I didn’t have to follow your rules.”

“He was wrong. The Directorate has known of your existence since your unfortunate birth. Leaving you among humans, untrained, is not an option. You could lose control and expose us all. You’ll be required to complete standard schooling. If you refuse, the Directorate is prepared to make life difficult for your parents. We can have your parents’ business license revoked by tomorrow morning. We can have them evicted by the day after.”

“And you wonder why I didn’t want to marry you,” her mom said. “You haven’t changed at all. You still have a God complex.”

“If you had married me, you’d live on an estate rather than in this pathetic apartment.”

No way. “You were going to marry this guy?”

“Not by choice.” Her mother gave Ferrin a look of disgust. “The marriage was arranged by our families.”

“Wait a minute.” Something about this rang a bell. Then it clicked. She pointed at her father. “Those bedtime stories you told me were true?”

A smile curved her father’s lips. “Yes, Ian the Brave really did rescue Sara the Fair from a fate worse than death.”

Bryn grinned at their unwanted guest. “Your name was Ferrin the Obnoxious.”

A vein on Ferrin’s temple bulged. “How amusing. I’m sure you’ll find it entertaining when the other students know you as Bryn the Mongrel, Daughter of Outcasts.”

The reality of what he said hit home. Acid burned her stomach, or maybe that was fire. There was only one way to find out. She aimed to the left of Ferrin’s head and exhaled. Flames passed within an inch of his ear. He flinched.

She visualized snow, and the acid receded. “Sorry. Apparently that happens when I’m upset.”

“We muzzle students who can’t control themselves.” Ferrin rose from his chair, pulled an envelope out of his jacket, and tossed it on the table. “Here is your Welcome to School packet. We’ll expect you in one week.”

No. No. No. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. “I can’t leave in a week. School started two weeks ago.”

“Let her finish the semester here,” her mom said, like she was trying to be the voice of reason. “Bryn can transfer second semester.”

“The first day at the Institute is still a week away. We start later than your average school because our better families travel abroad during summer vacation.”

There had to be a way to stop this. “How will I explain transferring schools? People will become suspicious. You wouldn’t want that. I should finish out the semester here.”