Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(81)

“We’ll be discreet. We’ll stay in most of the time, like tonight.”

“Secrets have a way of coming to light,” Zavien said. “I should be honest with her.”

Not a good idea. Nola might decide to go after what the Directorate declared was hers. “Would you want to know if it was the other way around?”

“I’ve always thought she was seeing someone else, but she’s never mentioned anyone.”

“If she hasn’t told you about who she’s seeing, then I doubt she wants to hear about who you’re seeing.” Bryn crossed her fingers and hoped her line of logic worked.

“I guess you’re right.” Zavien opened another bag of chips.

“What’s next on the Revisionists list?” she asked to change the topic.

Zavien sat forward. “I want to push the idea of choosing majors outside of what’s the norm. Your desire to be a medic is a good example. Normally, only Green dragons are allowed into medical classes.”

Ivy frowned. “Clint and I both want to be artists, so we’re doing what they want.”

Clint reached over and took her hand. “We’re not going to change our goals to spite them.”

“What are you going to be when you grow up?” Ivy asked Zavien.

“I want to be a tattoo artist.”

Bryn remembered a promise he’d made when he talked her into staying at the Institute. “You owe me a tattoo.”

“Know what you want?” he asked.

“I want a yin and yang symbol. Instead of a circle, I want a Blue and a Red dragon arranged head to tail. The two halves symbolize who I am.”

“I love it,” Ivy said.

“It’s you,” Zavien agreed. He finished his sandwich, stood, and moved to the door.

“Where are you going?” Bryn asked.

“I’m going to my room for supplies.”

“Know where you want your tattoo?” Ivy asked.

“No.” She brushed potato chip crumbs off her shirt. “Any suggestions?”

“Where you put it depends on who you want to see it.” Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

Bryn rolled her eyes. “We’ll stick with G rated areas.”

Zavien entered, carrying what resembled a tackle box. It was made of polished wood and had brass hinges. His name was carved into the lid. When he opened it, she expected to see needles and bottles of ink. Instead, the interior held tubes of paint and markers.

He must’ve noticed her confused expression. “No needles for you. We’re going to use semipermanent markers and paint. With your gift for manipulating Quintessence, you can make it last as long as you want.”

“I never thought of that.”

“I think we should put it on your shoulder.”

Something about this didn’t feel right. Needles seemed scary, but she wanted this to mean something.

“All three of you have real tattoos. I want to be part of the group.”

“If you like it, we can make it real. Your father will attempt to shove my head through a wall when he finds out I kissed you. I might as well go for broke.”

“How big is her father?” Clint asked.

“He’s not as big as the no-neck guy from the gym,” Bryn said. “But he’s close.”

Clint faked a shiver. “You have my sympathies.”

“First things first,” Zavien said. “We need to wipe your shoulder with alcohol. Otherwise, the paint won’t adhere.”

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Bryn retrieved the blue and white plastic box from the cabinet under the sink. Back in the living room, she handed the bottle of alcohol to Zavien.

“Left or right shoulder?” he asked.

“You choose.”

He made quick work of swabbing her left shoulder. She was surprised when he swabbed a spot on her right shoulder. “What’s that for?”

“Humor me.”

What was he up to?

He sat behind her on the floor and sorted through the markers in his wooden box. When he placed the flat of his hand on her shoulder blade, heat flowed into her skin.

What if she didn’t like what he drew? She thought he’d sketch the dragons on paper first. If she didn’t like it once it was on her shoulder, there was no way she’d tell him.

The fine tip of the marker pressed against her skin. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

The marker moved in short strokes against her left shoulder. Occasionally, she’d feel a long stroke. It didn’t feel like he was drawing a dragon. It felt like he was playing tic-tac-toe.

“What part are you drawing?”

“Worried?” he asked.

“I trust you, but an update now and then would be nice.”

“I’m creating the Red dragon. I’m building the body outline with scales so it will appear more realistic. When I finish, I’ll move on to the Blue. I’ll color them in afterward.”

“It looks good.” Ivy moved into Bryn’s line of sight. “Could you change my hair color?”

“After Zavien finishes, I can try.”

“I want hot pink streaks.”

The marker continued to move over Bryn’s skin. She ignored it and focused on Ivy. “Pick a color out of Zavien’s paints so I have a guide.”