Bridges Burned (Entangled Teen) (Going Down in Flames) (9 page)

Quentin didn’t respond.

Chapter Thirteen

All students were required to return to their dormitories and sign in. Teachers were dispatched to Dragon’s Bluff to round up anyone off campus. Bryn sat in the first-floor lounge chewing her fingernails and waiting for Clint and Ivy to walk through the door. When her friends crossed the threshold, she ran to hug them.

“I was so worried about you guys.”

Ivy sniffled. “We didn’t know anything had happened. Mr. Stanton showed up at Fonzoli’s and announced that all students were to return to campus and sign in at their dorms.” She blinked rapidly. “When I saw…”

Clint pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “It’s all right. We’re safe. The Directorate will investigate and figure out what to do.”

Clint speaking favorably about the Directorate? That was new. “Do you really trust them to protect you?”

He shoved his hand back through his hair. “The Directorate is kind of like your parents. You may try to sneak around and break some of their rules, but when things turn ugly you know they’ll take care of you.”

The way Clint kept his arm wrapped around Ivy sent a pang of envy through Bryn’s chest. If Zavien and she were still together, would he put his arms around her? Wait a minute. Where was he?

“Have you seen Zavien?”

Clint and Ivy scanned the room.

“Maybe he was at the theater building.” Ivy said.

Bryn pushed her way through the crowd to the front door where people were checking in.

“Has Zavien Blackthorn signed in?”

The woman taking signatures flipped through the pages on her clipboard. “He hasn’t. Don’t worry. We haven’t rounded up everyone from Dragon’s Bluff.”

Bryn checked her watch. “When should I start to worry?”

“Anyone who isn’t accounted for in thirty minutes will be declared missing. Security is searching the campus for anyone who might’ve fallen in a rift.”

She shuddered. What a horrible way to die. Now what? With no other options, she went to sit with Clint and Ivy. Every time the door opened, she checked for spiked black hair.

“If he dies before he has a chance to apologize, I’m going to be pissed.”

Ivy patted her arm. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll live to apologize and everything will go back to the way it’s supposed to be.”

Time crawled. Bryn stared at the clock, willing the hands to move. It felt like she was in a slow-motion sequence from a movie. People around her talked while the sound of her own heart drummed in her ears.

When twenty-five minutes passed, she shot to her feet. “I can’t take this anymore.” Without a clear idea of what to do, she approached the front door.

The lady with the clipboard gave a sympathetic grin. “Worried about your friend?”

“Yes.” Bryn’s throat felt tight. “Can I go check with the medics?”

“Sorry, I have orders to keep everyone here.”

Bryn growled in frustration. “I have to do something.”

The woman looked Bryn up and down. “If I tell you to stay here, you’re going to sneak out, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her clipboard. “This is a list of students who are unaccounted for. Take it to the medics and find out how many of them are patients and how many are still missing.”

Bryn exited the building, shifted, and flew toward the science building where the medics were housed. No sign of Zavien outside. In the medical center, she found Medic Williams and her colleagues treating more than a dozen injured students.

“Bryn, we’re spread thin. I could use your help for the minor cuts and scrapes.”

“I can do that, but first, I’m supposed to ask if any of these students are being treated.”

Medic Williams took the list. “Five of these students are here.” With quick efficiency, she checked off the appropriate names. Zavien wasn’t among them.

He’d been by her side during most of her trips to the clinic. She’d thought for sure he’d be here. “So, no sign of Zavien?”

“Don’t worry. The professors enlisted some of the older students to search the rifts. I’m sure Zavien is helping.” She pointed toward a group of students who sat on a bench in the hallway. “The minor injuries are over there. Ask if they mind you healing them, since you aren’t licensed yet. If they have issues, tell them it’s a forty-five-minute wait.

Bryn approached a red-haired girl cradling her right arm.

“Medic Williams asked me to help. I’ve had some training. I can cure minor cuts.”

“This doesn’t feel minor, but do what you can.” The girl extended her arm, which was covered in a blood-soaked towel.

Bryn lifted the cloth and discovered a six-inch laceration on the girl’s forearm. She closed her eyes and visualized her life force as a ball of white fire in her chest. Opening her eyes, she pictured the fire flowing down her right arm into her fingertips. As she traced her fingers back and forth over the girl’s wound, she imagined the skin undamaged. After a few minutes, the edges of the cut began to come together. The skin closed until all that was left was a pink line.

“Better?” Bryn asked.

The girl’s shoulders relaxed. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Can you drop this at the Black dragons’ dorm on your way out?”

The girl took the paper and left.

A Blue male sat next in line. He held a cloth to a wound on his forehead. Before she could speak, he said, “I’ll wait for the real medic.”

“Are you sure? It’s going to be a while before anyone else can help you.”

“Positive.”

Jerk.
“Your choice. Anyone else want my help?”

A Green male pointed to the girl leaning against his shoulder. “Help her.”

The dark-complected girl held out her arms, which were covered in superficial cuts and abrasions. Healing the minor damage was easy. Doing this felt right. This was what she wanted to do. Feeling sure about one thing in her life was a relief.

She healed three other students and sent them on their way, then she checked with the stubborn Blue. “Change your mind yet?”

“No.” He scooted away from her like she was about to force herself on him.

“Stop being an ass and let her heal you,” a familiar voice ordered.

Jaxon came to stand by her side. His clothes were uncharacteristically wrinkled and mud-splotched, but she didn’t see any blood.

“Are you injured?” she asked.

“No. I was sent to check on our missing students.” He pointed at the Blue with the head injury. “Heal him so I can take him back to the dorm.”

Bryn turned to find the Blue still wearing the expression of disgust, but he dropped the cloth from his forehead. Jaxon must outrank him in some way. The cut was shallow, and she healed it with ease.

Before Jaxon could leave, she said, “Have you seen Zavien?”

The blond gave her a look that was part pity and part scorn.

“Don’t judge me,” she snapped. “Just answer the question.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Jaxon raised a brow. “Do you think he’s asking anyone where you are?”

“Jerk.”

He feigned confusion. “Are you referring to me, or Zavien?”

At this point, she didn’t know. Making her way over to Medic Williams, Bryn asked, “Heard anything about Zavien?”

The woman didn’t look away from the wound she was closing. “No.”

“I’m going to find him.”

No one tried to stop her. Bryn left the science building and came up short when faced with the devastation to the campus grounds. She closed her eyes and inhaled, hoping to catch Zavien’s scent. All she detected was the sharp smell of green grass and the loamy scent of freshly turned earth.

Vivian and Octavius worked to repair the damage. Half a dozen adult Orange dragons labored alongside them.

Where had the Orange dragons come from? Had Octavius contacted his Clan and asked for aid? Mr. Stanton seemed to be supervising the cleanup. Curious, she walked out to meet him.

“Be careful, Bryn. The ground is literally shifting under our feet.”

A loud rumble reverberated through the soles of her shoes, and part of a nearby fissure closed.

“Who do you think did this?” she asked.

“We don’t know. Octavius and Vivian came to me minutes after the attack. We contacted their Clan and they offered aid.”

“The Directorate will blame them,” Bryn said.

“At first they will. We’ll find out who the real culprits are after an investigation.”

“Have you seen Zavien?”

“He helped us look for stragglers earlier. I haven’t seen him in a while.” Mr. Stanton grabbed Bryn’s arm as the ground beneath their feet groaned. “You’d best relocate. This isn’t a precise science.”

Okay. So he’d seen Zavien, and Zavien hadn’t asked about her. Frowning, she stalked toward her dorm.

Inside the student lounge, she spotted Clint and Ivy sitting at the small caf
é
. Ivy waved Bryn over, but her expression wasn’t happy.

She pulled out a chair and joined her friends. “What’s up?”

“I have news you aren’t going to like.” Ivy patted Bryn’s arm, like she was trying to console her. “Zavien came back twenty minutes ago. He saw us, but he didn’t stop to visit.”

The ugly truth crashed down on her. “He didn’t talk to you, which means he didn’t bother to ask about me. How could I have been so wrong about him?”

Neither of her friends answered.

“With all these rifts, it wouldn’t be difficult to hide his body,” Ivy said.

Clint gaped at his girlfriend. “Don’t encourage Bryn, or we’ll spend our weekends visiting her in jail.”

Chapter Fourteen

Suddenly, all the students in the caf
é
and lounge started talking at once. Bryn glanced toward the door to see what caused the disturbance.

Valmont strode into the dorm like he belonged there. Light glinted off the broadsword strapped to his thigh. Was it the weapon or his presence in the Black dragons’ dorm that caused everyone’s interest?

When he reached Bryn, he sat and grabbed her hand. “I came to make sure you were all right.”

Damn it. Why couldn’t Zavien act like this?
“I’m fine.” Better, now that he was here.

He studied her. “Fine never means fine. What’s up?”

She shrugged.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll respect your wishes.” He turned to Clint. “What did the spiky-haired nitwit do now?”

“Hey,” Bryn shouted.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to,” Valmont said, “but I still want to know. Clint?”

“After the attack, Zavien didn’t bother to check on us or her,” Clint said.

The knight squeezed Bryn’s hand. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“It’s my job to protect you. Short of running the idiot through with a sword, I can’t think of a way to help.”

“There are all those nice deep rifts out there,” Ivy muttered. “It would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

Valmont raised a brow.

Bryn chuckled. “Ivy volunteered to help throw Zavien’s body in a rift.”

Valmont tapped his chin like he was thinking. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Am I the only sane individual left at this table?” Clint asked.

“If Clint won’t let us kill Zavien, I guess we need another plan for the evening,” Bryn said.

“All three of you could come out to my cabin,” Valmont said.

“I doubt we’ll be allowed to leave campus.” Bryn’s stomach growled. Channeling Quintessence must burn calories like crazy. Eating with friends would be nice. “We could order pizza and eat in my room.”

A serious expression crossed Valmont’s face. “First, I have a question you must answer with utmost certainty. What is your stance on anchovies?”

She made a yuck face. “Anchovies are disgusting.”

“Correct answer.”

Twenty minutes later, Bryn sat next to Valmont on her couch while Clint and Ivy sprawled out on the floor. The situation seemed surreal. It was like someone removed Zavien from a photo and Photoshopped Valmont in his place to restore balance to the picture.

“Why are you frowning?” her knight asked.

Bryn grabbed another slice of pizza while she fabricated a response, because he didn’t need to know how strange her brain truly was. “I was wondering who’s behind the attack.”

“Who has the most to gain from upsetting the Directorate?” Valmont asked.

“Someone who wants to start a revolution,” Bryn answered. “I’m not sure who that would be.”

Ivy rearranged the pepperoni on her pizza in a symmetrical pattern. “The radical Revisionist dragons in the forest talked about affecting change. I’m pretty sure that’s code for ‘let’s start a revolution.’”

Pizza sauce dribbled down Bryn’s chin. She wiped it off with a napkin. “I’m not sure how effective the regular Revisionists’ petitions are, but war seems extreme.”

“There isn’t much middle ground with the Directorate. It’s their way or no way,” Valmont said. “Maybe war is inevitable.”

“That’s not a cheery thought.” Ivy moved closer to Clint and leaned against him. He kissed her forehead.

Envy shot through Bryn. Zavien should’ve been here to comfort her.

Warm fingertips brushed against her cheek. “You’re not alone,” Valmont reminded her. He leaned in and whispered, “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Well, that offer was wide-open to interpretation. He seemed to be waiting for an answer she didn’t have. “Thank you. But right now I’m a mess.”

He grinned and passed her another napkin. “That statement is true in more ways than one.”

She wiped her face. “Better?”

He nodded.

“I’m exhausted.” Ivy yawned.

“Stress wears you out.” Clint eyed the pizza boxes. “One more piece and then we’ll go.”

After Clint and Ivy left, Valmont helped clean the mess from dinner. “Need anything else before I go?”

“No. Thanks for coming to check on me.”

“If I could, I’d camp outside your door just to make sure you were safe.” He sighed. “Knowing you could’ve been hurt eats away at me. And yes, I know it sounds like I’m obsessed, but since I became your knight, you’re my number one focus. I tried asking around for advice, but there hasn’t been a citizen of Dragon’s Bluff who’s stepped forth to protect a dragon in more than a century.”

“Why did you intervene that day?”

He clasped her right hand between his and stared at her like she was the most beautiful creature in the world. “There’s something about you, something special, something worth fighting for.”

Wow. If there ever was a perfect thing for a guy to say, that was it. “Valmont, I—”

“I know you’re working through some issues right now.” He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be here when you’ve figured everything out. Then we can continue this conversation.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before he left.

…

In Elemental Science on Monday morning, Bryn found a new seating chart on the board. The assignments seemed random. She was in the third row between Quentin and Ivy.

“Notice who’s missing?” Quentin asked.

After a quick check of the room, she realized the Orange dragons weren’t present.

Mr. Stanton stood and cleared his throat. “After recent events on campus, the Directorate decided to investigate the Orange Clan. Octavius and Vivian will rejoin us once their innocence has been determined.”

“They helped fix the rifts,” Bryn said. “Why would the Directorate think they did it?”

“I believe they are going with the duck theory,” Mr. Stanton replied.

Bryn waited for the punch line. There wasn’t one. “You lost me.”

“The duck theory is simple. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck.” Mr. Stanton frowned. “The Directorate is investigating the most obvious suspects first.”

How would they know which Orange dragons attacked the campus? It’s not like ripping open the ground left fingerprints.

“Students, I encourage you not to jump to conclusions. Just because there are a few rogue Orange dragons, that doesn’t mean the entire Clan or your classmates are involved.”

A low rumble broke out in the class as students growled or whispered.

“I assure you the Directorate has everything under control. New security measures have been taken. It’s my duty to inform you that you’ll no longer be able to visit Dragon’s Bluff during the week. On the weekends you’ll be allowed to leave the institute after signing out at the gate.”

More grumbling filled the class as students objected to the restriction.

“I’ve seated you in an alternating pattern. Given the current climate it seems advisable for us to practice deflecting breath weapons. Pair up and then switch partners.”

By the end of class, Bryn felt confident she could defend herself against another student. Fighting off an adult might be another story.

In Basic Movement, she spotted Jaxon and Quentin fighting with swords. “Will you guys come with me to see what they’re doing?” Bryn asked Clint and Ivy.

“Sure.” Ivy grabbed Clint’s hand and pulled him along.

Jaxon and Quentin danced around each other searching for openings. Both moved fluidly and struck with precision. When Jaxon’s sword connected with Quentin’s shoulder, the two blonds stopped to catch their breath. Quentin handed his sword to Jaxon, nodded at Bryn and her friends and climbed out of the ring.

Jaxon offered the weapon to Bryn. “Want to give it try?”

She climbed into the ring and accepted the thin wooden sword. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with this. Valmont’s sword is bigger.”

“No man wants to hear that,” Clint called out.

Bryn snorted with laughter.

“You’ve no class at all,” Jaxon said.

“Class is overrated.” Bryn tested the weight of the sword. “Enlighten me with your superior knowledge.”

“Your knight probably has a broadsword. It’s an unsophisticated weapon meant for hacking away at the enemy.” Jaxon held out his sword. “This is a rapier. It’s a more precise instrument used to stab the opponent.”

Bryn waved the sword in a figure eight.

“No.” Jaxon came to stand by her side. “Watch. You thrust and retreat. The object is to fatally wound your enemy before he stabs you.”

His superior tone annoyed her. “Are you always this obnoxious when you play teacher?”

“Fine. You fight your way. I’ll fight mine.” He returned to his side of the ring. “First to three touches wins?”

Jaxon might beat her, but she wouldn’t back down. “Agreed.”

He came at her with a quick thrust. She swung her sword at his weapon to counter the attack. He closed in on her. She tried to block. He feinted left and then stabbed her right shoulder.

“Damn it.”

He smiled.

She went on the attack and swung at his torso. He blocked her sword with ease and tapped her forearm.

Smoke shot from her nostrils.

Jaxon chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes and lunged at him. Her sword connected with his ribs, giving her a rush of joy.

He went on the attack. His sword was a blur as he stabbed at her. Pain in her ribs told her he’d connected again. She growled in frustration.

He laughed at her.

Aiming for his head, she swung the sword in a wide arc.

Surprised, he blocked the blow and ripped the sword from her hand. “It’s over. You lost. Deal with it.”

Bryn growled. She hated losing, especially to Jaxon.

…

By Friday night at Stagecraft, Bryn had lost patience with Zavien’s duck-and-cover routine. How could she make him talk to her? Sneaking up on him, knocking him unconscious, and tying him to a chair with barbed wire might work. Maybe she’d give it a shot.

Rhianna stood in front of an expanse of canvas with a paintbrush and a can of gray paint.

“What’s the assignment tonight?” Bryn asked.

“We’re supposed to paint smog along the top.” Rhianna demonstrated by painting large gray arcs on the canvas at various angles.

Bryn grabbed a paintbrush and lost herself in the mindless activity.

“Did you love him?” Rhianna asked.

Bryn’s hand froze midarc. “Is it that obvious?”

“No. It took me a while to figure out. Love isn’t common among Blues. That used to make me sad. Now I don’t mind because it looks too painful.”

Zavien’s laugh drifted across the stage. Unable to stop herself, Bryn turned to locate him. He stood near the black wrought iron staircase, which led to the catwalk. When his gaze met hers, he scowled. She refused to look away. He turned from her and climbed the spiral steps.

“Go after him.” Rhianna plucked the paintbrush from Bryn’s hand.

“Valmont told me I should wait and make Zavien come to me.”

“Has that approach yielded any results?”

“No. The coward runs away every time I come near. I spend my days plotting different ways to murder him.”

Rhianna ducked her head. “When Jaxon is obnoxious I fantasize about hitting him with my book bag.”

Bryn chuckled. “I’ve had similar fantasies.”

“No matter how irritating Jaxon is, I know he’d be there for me if I needed him. Can you say the same of Zavien?”

Yes…no…she didn’t know anymore. Maybe Rhianna was right. She groaned in frustration. “Fine. I’ll do it.” She’d climb up on the catwalk to talk to Zavien. At least there he couldn’t run from her. “Wish me luck.” She crossed the stage and ascended the staircase. The wrought iron steps were a blur under her feet. This was the right thing to do.

She cleared the stairs, stepped on the catwalk, and came face-to-face with the one person she didn’t want to see. Every muscle in Bryn’s body tensed as Nola blocked her path.

“Bryn, we need to talk.”

“Wrong. You need to get out of my way.”

“You’re behaving like a child,” Nola said.

“No.” Smoke drifted from Bryn’s lips. “I’m behaving like someone who was lied to.”

“Zavien never lied to you.” Nola’s voice grew louder. “You misunderstood his invitation. You heard what you wanted to hear.”

“If you keep lecturing me, I might tell you the truth. Then we’ll see how self-righteous you are.”

“What’s going on?” Zavien crossed the catwalk and stood behind his future wife. He glared at Bryn like she was the one causing the problem.

“Your friend decided to lecture me about my behavior,” Bryn bit out.

“You’re acting like a spoiled brat,” Nola said. “You were delusional to think he’d be interested in anything beyond friendship.”

Flames roared in Bryn’s chest. If Zavien didn’t come to her defense, it was over. “Zavien, it’s now or never. Tell her the truth, or I will.”

He ran his hand down his face. “Bryn has a right to be upset. For a brief time, I behaved inappropriately.”

His words slammed into her chest, knocking her back a step. She clutched the catwalk railing for support as her world turned upside down
.

Nola rounded on him. “How could you?”

“She had a crush on me.” He shrugged. “I was flattered.”

Rage tightened her fists on the metal railings. “Stop it. Stop making it sound one-sided. You’re the one who came to find me before you went shopping with Nola.” She smiled at the dark-haired woman. “He stopped by to kiss me before he spent the afternoon with you.”

Nola’s lips went white with rage.

Zavien said nothing, so Bryn continued. “He pressed me against the wall and kissed me like his life depended on it. Does he kiss you like that?”

Nola’s open palm swung at her face.

Bryn grabbed her forearm. “Try that again and I will knock you on your pretentious ass.” For emphasis, she shoved Nola backward, right into Zavien’s arms.

Not what she wanted to see. “Damn it, Zavien. How did you turn out to be such a disappointment?”

He stepped around Nola and spoke in a tight voice. “You don’t understand—”