Bridges Burned (Entangled Teen) (Going Down in Flames) (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

She laughed like he was making a joke, but held her palms face out, ready to blast him with fire if need be. “If you’ll excuse me.” She went to squeeze by him.

He grabbed her arm. “Stay here with me.”

She backed away from him, trying to yank her arm from his viselike grip. Focusing on the rage over her parents’ death, she blasted foot-high flames from her free hand. “Let go. Now.”

He dropped her arm, laughing like this had been a joke. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t scare me. You pissed me off. There’s a difference. Don’t do it again.”

“Bryn, your grandmother sent me to find you. They’re serving dessert and she knew you wouldn’t want to miss it.” Jaxon stood in the doorway, speaking to Bryn, but with his gaze locked on the man who’d grabbed her. “Taven, I’m surprised to see you here. I wasn’t aware that your family had been invited back to the Sinclairs’ estate.”

“Just this year.” Taven flashed a fake smile. “My parents declined, but I decided to accept the invitation on their behalf. To bury the hatchet, as they say.”

He wanted to bury the hatchet all right, in her skull. Maintaining her irritated expression, she headed inside at a slow pace. No way would she let him know he’d frightened her. Jaxon caught up with her a dozen feet down the hall.

“Who was that creep?” she asked.

“Someone you’d do well to stay away from.” Jaxon looked around like he thought they might be followed. “Why were you speaking with him?”

“I was getting some fresh air, and he found me. Not the other way around.” She rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her. “Should I tell my grandmother about this?”

“Absolutely not. You’ll go back in there, make a big fuss over the dessert your grandmother chose for you, and pretend everything is wonderful. I’ll find your grandfather and tell him what happened. He’ll deal with it how he sees fit.” As they reached the door back into the ballroom, Jaxon said, “Try not to do anything stupid for the rest of the evening.”

She glared at his back as he headed across the ballroom toward the table where her grandfather sat surrounded by his Directorate cronies.

Her grandmother’s face lit up when she saw Bryn. “Jaxon didn’t spoil the surprise, did he?”

“No.” Bryn glanced at waiters entering the ballroom carrying covered trays. They stopped at her grandmother’s table first and set the silver platter on the table. With a flourish, her grandmother lifted the dome. Underneath, Christmas cookies in all varieties and colors decorated the plate. There were chocolate chip, oatmeal, Russian teacakes, and something covered in cinnamon.

“Tell me those are snickerdoodles,” Bryn said.

“Although the name is undignified, those have always been my favorite,” her grandmother said.

Happy at having a bit of her Christmas tradition restored, Bryn grabbed a snickerdoodle and took a bite. It was cinnamon sweet vanilla goodness. “These are awesome.”

Other people at the table grabbed a cookie apiece and politely ate. Bryn grabbed one of each and piled them on her plate.

Jaxon returned to the table, took notice of her plate, and shook his head.

She just grinned and ate her way through a dozen cookies. Even though she could’ve eaten more, she stopped. To her grandmother, she leaned over and said, “Please tell me there will be more of these in the kitchen later tonight.”

“There should be three dozen set aside for our personal use.” Her grandmother smiled, obviously happy that Bryn was happy.

“Thank you.”

The orchestral music swelled in the background, and Bryn saw her grandfather approaching the table. Was he finally coming to join them? It was about time.

He came around the table and held his hand out toward his wife. “Are you ready, Marie?”

“Yes.” Her grandmother actually smiled.

They walked away hand in hand.

“What’s that about?” she asked Jaxon.

He gave her a long-suffering look. “Why am I your personal ambassador for the Christmas ball tonight?”

“Because I find your personality so delightful.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Now answer the question.”

“They are walking toward the dance floor. The orchestra is playing a song. What do you think will happen next?”

“Oh.” That made sense. “You don’t have to be so condescending.”

“I strive to be just condescending enough, but sometimes the balance is hard to maintain.”

If they weren’t in the middle of a ballroom surrounded by her grandparents’ friends and associates, she would’ve flipped him off. As it was, she didn’t bother to respond.

On the dance floor, her grandparents took a traditional dance pose and the orchestra launched into a romantic rendition of “Blue Christmas.” Was that supposed to be a joke?

Her grandparents moved together with the ease of a couple who’d slow-danced together for fifty years. Funny how they looked so perfect together, when they actually lived as what? Friends? No, that wasn’t the right term. More like business partners or associates. The lack of love in their relationship seemed sad. Before, she’d wondered how her mother could walk away from everything. Now she knew. It was simple. True love trumped everything.

Would she have a chance to experience true love? She’d loved Zavien, or at least she thought she had. Just because he hadn’t returned her feelings didn’t mean hers hadn’t been real. Looking back on it, she could see the times she’d made comments about being willing to run away with him. He’d never, not once, said anything similar. Which made her feel stupid now.

Applause broke out around her, bringing her back to the moment. She clapped along with everyone else as her grandparents acknowledged the applause with slight nods of their heads.

Jaxon stood. “I’m going to visit the men’s room, and then I plan to hide on the terrace.”

Was he serious?
Apparently so, because he took off like a shot.

His mother turned around from her conversation and frowned. “Where’s Jaxon?”

“I believe he ran to the restroom.” Should she follow his lead?

“When he returns, you two should dance.” Lillith said it like it was a fabulous idea. Bryn was pretty sure Jaxon would rather do a rendition of “I’m a Little Teapot” while wearing nothing but black socks and a Viking helmet than dance with her.

Not wanting to upset Lillith, she smiled and nodded. Her grandmother would be proud.

Ferrin came toward the table. The smile that lit Lillith’s face made Bryn’s heart hurt. Did Lillith harbor feelings for Ferrin? She’d claimed she was happy with a son who loved her and another one on the way. Was that true?

Bryn didn’t want to make eye contact with Ferrin, so she reached for another cookie while Lillith floated out of her chair to the dance floor. More and more couples joined her grandparents. Blonds dancing with blonds, as far as the eye could see. Always being the odd man out sucked. Maybe she should follow Jaxon’s lead and hide on a terrace. Then again, there were whack jobs like Taven on the terraces.

All she wanted to do was go hide in her room with a platter of cookies, but her grandmother would be hurt if she left the party early. That meant she had two choices. Sit here by herself and pretend it didn’t bother her that everyone else was dancing, or find a safe place to hide and kill some time while she waited for the orchestra to stop playing.

First, she’d retreat to the restrooms, and then she’d figure out a good hiding spot. The restroom off the ballroom reminded her of the restroom at a theater. There were multiple stalls and sinks. Most of them were in use at the moment, so she waited in line. Which didn’t bother her, because it killed more time. The woman in front of her glanced back to see who had joined the queue and frowned.

Great.

After leaving the restroom, Bryn walked the edge of the ballroom pretending to study the various Christmas trees lining the walls.

Jaxon stood across the room talking with Quentin and a few other guys. If there had been any females in the group, she might have joined him. With just males, it would be beyond awkward.

Now what? Out of ideas, she headed back to her table. Dang it. The table was empty. Everyone must be dancing. Which would look more pathetic—sitting by herself or standing off to the side by herself?

She’d sell a kidney on the black market for a friendly face at this point. Since there were none in sight, she opted for sitting at the table where she had the consolation of Christmas cookies.

With every cookie she ate, her mood sank.

Christmas Eve. All her life it had meant a cozy home, stringing popcorn, and watching
Rudolph
. Now it meant attending a ball where she was tolerated, but not welcomed. God, maybe she’d be better off living somewhere by herself, pretending to be human. With her love of food, she could become a chef or a baker. But then, she’d never be able to share who she truly was with anyone. That sounded lonelier than being ignored by hundreds of shape-shifting dragons.

In time, would they come to accept her? Did she care one way or another? Best-case scenario, she could live in Dragon’s Bluff with Valmont or his family. They were all warm, loving people who thought food made everything better. She liked that logic.

“Excuse me.” A Blue male she didn’t know stood in front of her. He glanced back at a group of males who were snickering.

Her internal alarm went off. Odds were this wouldn’t end well.

“Yes?” she braced herself.

“I was wondering if you’d like to dance?” The tone of his voice screamed,
I am a jerk.

“One question: Are you the joke or am I?”

He blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She pointed at his friends. “Are they laughing at you for asking me to dance? Or are they laughing at me, because they think I’ll be stupid enough to believe you actually want to dance with me?”

The polite expression melted from his face, leaving behind a cold sneer. “You’re not stupid, are you?”

“No.”

“You realize this is probably the only chance you’ll have to dance tonight.”

That hurt a little bit because it was probably true. She gave him a go-screw-yourself smile. “Then I’d rather not dance.”

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “bitch,” but she couldn’t prove it. And as much as she’d like to shoot a fireball at his head, she refrained.

When he reached his friends, he said something that made them laugh. What was he telling them? The idea that he’d be the one controlling what people thought had happened made her stomach churn. It’s not like she could counteract the rumors. Who did she know to talk to? Think. Damn it. Jaxon might help. Then again, he might just be pissed off she asked. Clenching her fists, she drank the last of her tea and resisted the urge to wing the empty glass across the room at her tormenter’s head.

A waitress came to refill her drink. Bryn was surprised to see it was Abigail. “Hello. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Thanks to you.” Abigail grinned. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s amazing. But do you know who that young man is over there?”

Abigail glanced toward the jerk in question. “He’s Liam Eldridge, son of a Directorate member.”

“He asked me to dance as a joke, and now he’s over there laughing it up with his friends. I’m not sure how to handle it.”

“Don’t worry, jerks like him always get their comeuppance one way or another.” She patted Bryn on the shoulder. “Forget about him. Go find someone nice to dance with.”

Easier said than done. “Thanks, I might try that.” Bryn sipped her tea and watched as Abigail walked over to another member of the waitstaff, an elderly woman Bryn didn’t know. The woman hovered around the table where Liam and his friends sat. What was she doing?

The elderly server lifted a pitcher of iced tea to refill Liam’s glass. Abigail walked behind the woman and jostled her so that she lurched forward, dumping the entire pitcher of tea onto Liam’s lap.

His outraged growl ripped through the ballroom. The elderly woman backed up apologizing. He opened his mouth like he was going to verbally rip her apart. Then he noticed everyone staring, and forced a tight smile.

The woman continued to apologize. He nodded and said something about it not being a big deal. Bryn ducked her head and sipped her tea when his gaze swept in her direction. Hopefully he wouldn’t connect the incident with her. Whoever the elderly woman was, Bryn was going to send her the mother of all gift cards from Fonzoli’s.

Jaxon and Quentin approached from across the room. Jaxon shot her an
I know what you did
look. She played innocent and hoped it was a convincing act.

Her grandmother returned to the table a short time later. “I wish you would dance.”

Laughter may not have been the appropriate response, but Bryn couldn’t help it. “That would require someone asking me.”

“But I saw Liam over here talking to you. Didn’t he ask you to dance?”

Was her grandmother fishing for a confession? How much should she tell her? Time to lay her cards on the table.

“He did ask me to dance, but he wasn’t sincere.” She told her grandmother about her conversation with the jerk.

“Well.” Her grandmother did not appear pleased. “That is disappointing. His father is one of your grandfather’s allies. I’d expect him to think of the consequences his actions might bring to his father’s interactions in the Directorate.”

Okay. Bryn’s feelings weren’t important. How this would reflect on Liam’s father and her grandfather were the concern. Did Blue dragons have their feelings removed at birth, or what?

“Are you responsible for Liam’s need to change clothing?” her grandmother asked.

She wasn’t about to admit to anything just yet. “If I were, how would you feel about that?”

“If you had orchestrated the event, I would request that you not use household staff to sabotage our guests.” A slow grin spread across her grandmother’s face. “But I would applaud your resourcefulness. Now, we need to develop your circle of allies, and Jaxon is going to help.”

Oh, God.

Her grandmother stared at Jaxon until he could probably feel the laser-like intensity sinking into his skull. He turned with a resigned look on his face and walked toward the table like a man approaching the gallows.