"I didn't say a word." Jaxon managed to sound confused.

"Right."

He pointed at Bryn's head. "Why did you change your hair?"

She grinned at him. "Before you ask that, wouldn't it be polite for you to tell me how lovely I look?"

Her grandmother puffed up with pride. "I knew my genes were in there somewhere."

Bryn laughed.

Jaxon's nostrils flared.

"Oh, come on. It was funny." Why was he being such a jerk? Maybe she should throw him a bone. "I wanted to try something different with my hair for the ball."

"Two colors rather than three was a good choice."

If he didn't knock off the att.i.tude, she'd touch him, focus her Quintessence, and do her d.a.m.nedest to turn his hair flamingo pink.

"If you'll excuse me," Jaxon said, "I see someone I need to speak to."

"Young man, be the gentleman your mother raised you to be," her grandmother said. "Go introduce my granddaughter to your social circle."

Could Jaxon ignore a direct order from her grandmother? She didn't think so. Her grandfather seemed to outrank Ferrin by age, if not by money, and the ability to scheme and blackmail his fellow Directorate members. It made sense that her grandmother would outrank Lillith and Jaxon.

"Fine." Jaxon pasted a polite smile on his face. "Bryn, would you like to mingle?"

She'd rather eat c.o.c.kroaches, but that didn't seem like an answer her grandmother would appreciate. "Thank you. That sounds lovely." This fake socialite c.r.a.p wasn't so hard after all. Lie through my teeth and I'm good to go.

As soon as they were a few feet from the table, out of the hearing of her grandmother, Bryn said, "So what does mingle mean? Small talk? Discussing how much money someone spent on their latest fur-lined yacht? Clue me in."

"Why would anyone want a yacht lined with fur?"

"It was meant to be an absurd example." She clipped off the end of the sentence where she referred to him as an idiot.

"Like a yacht with diamond chandeliers?" he asked.

"Yes. Why?"

They wove between tables toward Jaxon's friend Quentin and several other Blues she didn't recognize.

"Because your grandfather has one."

What? "If that's true, I'm going to learn how to drive it and leave it in a port somewhere as a donation to a charity for kids with cancer."

Jaxon came to a dead halt. "Why would you do that?"

"Because anyone who has enough money to buy a yacht with diamond chandeliers has enough money to help people."

"Why would dragons help humans when they could help other dragons?"

Whack. His question was like a Nerf bat upside the head. She'd been raised to believe she was human. Weird to think she no longer belonged in that category. Not like she'd try to explain that to Jaxon.

"I think you should help anyone who needs help, human or dragon. That's beside the point. No one needs diamond chandeliers."

"Your grandfather thinks otherwise, and I suggest you never repeat what you said to me in front of him or anyone else."

They reached a gathering of three couples. Quentin was the only person Bryn recognized.

She smiled and nodded when people said h.e.l.lo. She smiled while the boys talked about what sports cars they hoped to get for Christmas. She smiled while the girls talked about platinum jewelry versus gold jewelry. Did she fit in either conversation? No. So she smiled and nodded and pretended to give a c.r.a.p, because that's what her grandmother wanted her to do.

When the orchestra started a song at full volume, everyone stopped talking and headed to their tables. She followed the Stepford maneuver, grateful to escape the boring conversation.

Once everyone was seated, her grandfather headed up to the stage and took a microphone. "Thank you all for coming this evening. In unsure times like these, it's good to know who your friends are." Polite applause sounded. All Bryn could think of was that war quote she'd heard in a movie, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Was that what her grandfather was doing? More than likely he was showing off his exorbitant wealth. Later, she'd have to ask why her grandparents were the ones to host the ball. It must have some meaning. Probably "my bank account is bigger than yours."

Her grandfather waited for the applause to die down. "I'd like to wish all of you a wonderful holiday season." The orchestra flared to life again, and her grandfather bowed to more applause.

Rather than joining Lillith, Jaxon, her grandmother, and her, he walked over to a table where several men, including Ferrin, sat.

"Isn't he sitting with us?" Bryn asked.

"He'll join us later. It's hard to keep his mind off business for long." Her grandmother didn't seem to mind.

Two women her grandmother's age approached the table and asked to join them. There was the standard polite round of introductions. Then the women started to talk about the difficulty of hiring reliable caterers for the holiday. Yawn.

How had her mom put up with all this high-society c.r.a.p? The stray thought made her heart ache.

Jaxon stared off into the distance while maintaining a polite smile and an occasional nod. He must have practiced this act from toddlerhood.

Since he was here, she might as well ask him how all this worked.

"Jaxon, what happens next?"

"What do you mean?"

She gestured in a circle to include the entire ballroom. "We eat, and then what happens?"

He looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes. "After everyone has eaten, there will be dancing. During that time, I will be hiding on the terrace behind a large plant. As will anyone who has any common sense."

She laughed at the idea of him hiding behind the Christmas decorations. "Why hide? No one forces you to dance, do they?"

"Wait and see. Your grandmother will politely suggest you dance with someone so you can network with them. If Rhianna were here-"

The anger in his voice and the way he bit off the sentence made her heart hurt.

He cleared his throat and looked away. "Her parents dragged her off to Europe without allowing us to say good-bye."

"I'm sorry." She leaned in. "She'll be back at school after the holiday break, won't she?"

His eyes were hard and flat. "I'm not sure."

Fire roared in her gut, and she tasted smoke in the back of her throat. What was happening to Rhianna and the other students who were now less than perfect was wrong.

She closed her eyes and took a slow measured breath, thinking about ice and snow and cold things to put out the fire. Setting her grandmother's Christmas ball ablaze wouldn't win her any favors.

Their food arrived. Bryn examined the plate of prime rib in front of her and checked to see what everyone else was doing. No one ate yet. Were they waiting for the entire ballroom to be served? Who knew? A better question, why hadn't she chosen wine instead of tea?

Five minutes later, her grandmother picked up her fork and knife and cut into the entree. Everyone else did the same. Out of the corner of her eye, Bryn saw people at other tables pick up their utensils. It was like a ripple effect.

Bryn chewed, nodded, and smiled. When the plates were cleared, she craved sugar cookies with icing. Every year, she and her mom would make sugar cookie dough and cut out candy canes and stars. Her dad would take small b.a.l.l.s of dough and make lopsided snowmen whose appearance did not improve with baking.

A wave of sadness swamped her, threatening to drown her where she sat. She took a deep breath and pushed the sadness away. Don't think about it. Time to focus on the present.

Everyone around her seemed so d.a.m.n happy. Even Jaxon was chatting with his mother. Everyone had family, except for her. Okay, that wasn't fair to her grandparents, but it would take a long time before they could fill the void left by her parents. And the sadness rolled in again. She needed to get out of here.

"Excuse me." She pushed away from the table and headed out the door to a side hall where the restrooms for guests were located. She took a turn down a different hall and headed out onto a terrace decorated with twinkling lights designed to look like snowflakes.

Gripping the edge of the railing, she stared up at the stars, willing her tear ducts to behave. Her grandmother would never forgive her if she caused a scene at the Christmas ball. The night air was cool and the terrace was quiet. It was nice to get away from people. Maybe she could hide out here for the rest of the night.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Was it Jaxon or her grandmother coming to check on her?

"Out here by yourself?" a masculine voice asked.

She turned to find a young man smiling at her in a way that set her trouble meter on high alert, but he was one of her grandparent's guests, so he couldn't be too scary, right? The terrace, which had seemed nice and insulated from prying eyes, now seemed too secluded.

"I just came out for a breath of fresh air. I'm not used to being around so many people. I better get back before my grandmother sends someone to look for me." Babbling, she moved toward the door, but he blocked her path.

"It's too late for that."

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 p.i.s.sed 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 amba.s.sador 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?"