Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(92)

“Now for your eyebrows.”

Regrowing her eyebrows felt weird. The hair prickled her skin. After ten minutes, Medic Williams stopped.

“Would you like to try standing?”

Bryn eased herself to the edge of the bed, gritted her teeth, and pushed to her feet. Thank God, it didn’t hurt like last time. Now it felt like her muscles were sore from a workout.

“Thank you. That’s much better.”

Her grandmother appeared by her side, holding new clothes. “Why don’t you bathe now? We’ll serve dinner in half an hour.”

She’d rather eat now, but one look at her grandmother’s face told her arguing was a lost cause.

“All right.” She took the pile of clothing and headed for the bath. Once she’d locked the door, she hung the clothes on a hook, faced the mirror, and gasped. It looked like someone had taken a pink marker to her face and played connect the dots while she slept. If this was an improvement, she shuddered to think what the original damage had been.

After a quick shower, she examined her clothing options. All three dresses were different sizes and still had the tags attached. No wonder her grandmother had been upset when she refused to dress. The woman had gone shopping.

The navy wrap dress was the correct size. A small bag hanging from the hanger held several new bra and underwear sets.

Her stomach growled. She dressed quickly, ignoring the panty hose. If she didn’t have shoes, what was the point? After locating a blow-dryer, she turned it on high and blasted the moisture from her hair. While she wouldn’t win any beauty contests, she was presentable.

In the bedroom, she found Merrick sitting at a dining room table. She blinked.

During her absence, the bed had been moved to the far wall. A table sat in the middle of the room set with fine china and linen napkins. A metal leg sticking out from beneath the lace tablecloth was the only clue it was a folding table rather than an antique from downstairs. Her grandmother was a force to be reckoned with.

“What fetching eyebrows you have,” Merrick teased.

“There now,” her grandmother said. “Don’t you feel better?”

“Yes. Thanks for the dress.”

The door from the connecting suite opened. Jaxon and his mother entered. He was dressed in new clothes, which didn’t quite fit. Now that she noticed, Merrick’s clothes hung loose on him, too. They must be wearing her grandfather’s things. If everyone was under some sort of house arrest, how had her grandmother gone shopping?

“Why don’t we sit?” her grandmother suggested. “I don’t know when the others will join us.”

Who else might join them besides her grandfather? If Ferrin made an appearance, she’d have a hard time keeping her food down.

Merrick stood and pulled out her chair. Across the table, Jaxon mirrored his actions, seating his mother. Trying to be on her best behavior, Bryn resisted rolling her eyes.

Jaxon sat and gazed at Bryn. “You no longer resemble a sunburned snake.”

“Why thank you. It’s amazing what eyebrows do for a person.”

Her grandmother appeared appalled.

Bryn chuckled. “Don’t worry. That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”

“At my table, I expect people to behave appropriately.” The older woman pointed at Jaxon. “That was a terrible excuse for a compliment. Try again.”

“You’ll have to give me a moment. This goes against my genetics.” He squinted like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Bryn bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“I’ve got it. Navy is a flattering color. You should wear it more often.”

“Thank you.” She made a show of staring at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” Merrick asked.

“Jaxon gave me a compliment. I was sure there’d be winged pigs up there somewhere.”

Her grandmother was the only one who didn’t laugh.

Abigail entered the room, pushing a silver cart. The scent of roasted chicken filled the air. Once her plate was piled with chicken, roast potatoes, and asparagus, she dug in, leaving the small talk to Merrick and Lillith.

She cleared her plate before her grandmother was halfway finished. Could she ask for a second helping? Would that be rude?

Hoping he’d know what to do, she tapped Merrick on the arm and pointed at her plate, figuring he’d understand the message.

He glanced at her plate, and then across the table at Jaxon’s plate, which was also empty. “Abigail, I believe Bryn and Jaxon are used to eating larger meals.”

Abigail refilled their plates and then pointed at a meringue-covered pie sitting on the cart. “Save room for dessert. It’s coconut cream.”

“Don’t worry,” Merrick said. “She’ll have room. I’ve seen her eat her weight in food.”

Bryn’s grandmother scowled. Not sure if this expression was directed at her or Merrick, she attempted to smooth the situation over. “He’s right. I eat more than most of my friends. Mr. Stanton thinks it’s because I use Quintessence to color my hair.”

Her grandmother didn’t respond. Okay. Now what?

To fill the void, Bryn kept talking. “I figured out how to do it by accident. Medic Williams thinks I’m a natural. I want to become a medic.”

“Only Green dragons become medics.” Her grandmother stated this fact like it was one of the Ten Commandments.