Ember's Kiss (17 page)

Brandon shook his head.

She nodded, then her gaze turned assessing as she surveyed him. “You're bleeding,” she said, and pointed to his chest. “Is that normal?”

Brandon looked down and saw the blood running from a fresh wound. It looked as if he had been cut—or as if one missing scale had just been pulled out of his hide, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The blood flowed red and warm over his scales.

He shook his head again. How could he be wounded? Was it pain that had prompted the shift? But what had injured him?

Liz approached him and he felt the comforting presence of the blue shimmer. With every step she took, he was more confident that he could change back to his human form. He didn't want to startle her, though.

Liz touched his skin beside the wound, and Brandon flinched involuntarily. To his relief, his dragon's snarl was a more relaxed growl, the beast responding favorably to Liz's presence and touch.

She was the key to his salvation.

“Can you shift back?” she asked. “I want to see whether you have this injury in both forms, maybe treat it.” She winced. “It looks serious.”

Brandon nodded agreement. He put out one claw
and she put her hand in his claw, understanding him so well that he knew she was perfect for him. She fingered his talon, checking it out, then smiled at him. The contrast between her slender fingers and his sharp claw said everything that needed to be said about her trust in him.

“Right beside you,” she said with such resolve that he knew he'd be able to change. She gripped his talon tightly.

Brandon closed his eyes and the blue shimmer was as accessible as it had been once upon a time. He summoned it, and it followed his bidding. The change rocked through him, stretching his muscles and sinews, firing his blood, and leaving him shaken with its power.

He opened his eyes, glad to find Liz's hand still in his own. “You're not afraid.” He was still amazed by her.

She shook her head and smiled. “You've never hurt me. You saved me this morning, in fact.”

“But the dragon is violent….”

“Not toward me. And not toward that woman and her child, or even Matt. The
Pyr
are supposed to be the custodians of the earth and the defenders of mankind, you know. Maybe your dragon means well but can't express it.”

Brandon shook his head. “No. It's violent and vicious. I've got to ditch it.”

She studied him for a moment and he sensed she had something to say. Then her gaze fell to his chest
and he saw the blood that was soaking through the wet suit. Kira was going to kill him! “How do you get out of this thing?”

Brandon reached back and unfastened the zipper that ran down his spine. He peeled the wet suit off his shoulders and wiped off the blood with his fingers. His gut was bruised in several places, and Liz winced at the sight.

“From the surf?”

“From someone kicking me,” Brandon said, grinning at her surprise. “Hard.”

“I did that to you?” When he nodded, she smiled back. “Sorry. I don't usually find myself in a dragon's clutches.”

“Get used to it,” he teased impulsively.

She blushed as she rummaged in her purse. She came up with a first aid kid and set to work, staunching the bleeding. The woman was full of surprises.

“You always travel with a first aid kit?”

“Yes, actually, I do. Maybe that's going to be useful when I'm with you.” She touched his bruises with a careful fingertip. “So, injuries remain with you when you change forms? And these three spots are where you're missing scales?”

Brandon nodded.

“What about your clothes?”

“We fold them away. Fast. It's a secret.”

Liz gave him a considering glance. “Why?”

Brandon shrugged. “There's an old story that if someone seizes the clothes of a dragon when he shifts,
that person can keep the dragon from shifting back. I'm not sure if it's true, but my dad was always insistent that it had to be done fast.” He grimaced. “It was pretty much the only thing he taught me about being
Pyr
.”

“That sounds like selkies and their seal skins,” Liz mused nodding. “What happened to these scales? Do you just lose them as part of your body's routine?”

Brandon shook his head. “When new ones grow, they form under the old ones. The old ones are shed only when the new ones are completely grown.”

Liz nodded. “So there are never any gaps in your armor. Okay, that makes sense. But these?”

“I traded them.”

Liz looked up with astonishment. “
Traded
them? You mean, you pulled them out on purpose and gave them away?”

He nodded, sensing her displeasure but not understanding its reason.

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. Her eyes were doing that sparky thing again. “Even knowing that story?”

“It's a myth!”

“You don't know that! Your dad taught you only one thing, so it must be important!”

It did make sense when she put it that way.

“He wasn't exactly a good example to me. Maybe he was just making demands. Rules. He loves rules.”

Liz's lips tightened. “What did you trade them for? What could possibly be worth mutilating yourself?”

“It wasn't like that! I thought they would grow back,” Brandon said. “They always did before.”

She glared at him, arching a brow.

“The powder,” he admitted. “There's this powder that this friend of mine uses. He thinks it's a restorative, like multivitamins, but it has helped me to control my dragon. Pulling scales seemed to weaken the dragon, too. I traded for the powder.”

“Holy shit,” Liz said and turned to walk away, her disgust clear.

“I thought they would grow back!” he shouted, but she dropped her forehead to her hand. “What's going on? I thought it was no big deal.” His voice rose. “I thought it was creating possibilities for me and making things happen!”

When Liz spun to face him, Brandon knew he was wrong.

She was scared.

Why?

A
binding spell.

Liz felt sick. Someone had cast a binding spell over Brandon. He couldn't control his dragon because somebody else was in charge of that side of his nature. And the spellcaster had succeeded because he or she had a physical part of Brandon to anchor the spell. Nail clippings, blood, hair, or scales; a physical souvenir from the victim was critical to a successful binding spell.

The sorcerer had chosen scales because the real target was the dragon.

She had sensed dark magic, evil magic. She hadn't expected to be engulfed in the world of her childhood again, or to need all those lessons she'd been taught. She didn't want to revisit the past or reopen those old memories.

But she wanted to help Brandon.

Liz was pretty sure that Brandon was bleeding because
that scale had been destroyed. It all made a kind of sense that had once been so familiar to her as to be second nature.

The mark on her arm made Liz reluctant to embrace the realm of magic again. It reminded her that there could be a price to pay—and soon. Even so, there had to be a way to break the spell that had snared Brandon—if they could get the scales, maybe, or if she could find the scientific basis for whatever was happening to him.

The other
Pyr
might be able to help him. They might recognize this situation and be able to deal with it themselves.

Liz turned to find Brandon watching her in obvious confusion, waiting for her to explain. How could he not know more about his own nature? How could his father have not taught him more?

“So, you traded three scales, thinking they'd grow back. Have they grown back at all?” she asked, already knowing the answer. A binding spell sapped the power of the victim, and a lack of routine regenerative growth on the body was the first sign of the spell's power.

Brandon shook his head.

“When did you last get a haircut?” she asked, her mouth dry.

“What?”

“When?”

“I don't know. It's been a while, actually.”

“When did you trim your nails last?”

His grin flashed. “What is this—a personal-hygiene test?”

“When?” Liz barked.

“Whoa! You're all flashy again.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze roved over her and he looked awestruck. “There are sparks coming from the ends of your hair. It looks like you're filled with fire! Or maybe becoming a flame.”

Liz averted her gaze, shocked that her true nature was so visible to him. “I'm just angry because it's important,” she said, not wanting to talk about her challenges just yet.

Brandon wasn't the only one who wasn't fully in control of his powers, which wasn't the most reassuring realization possible.

Brandon looked at his fingernails. “Come to think of it, I haven't had to bother with them. I thought they were growing more slowly because it was winter.”

There
was
a binding spell on Brandon. Who had cast it? What was the spellcaster's plan?

She'd given away her own powers, but they'd returned. Were they strong enough that she could save Brandon? Would that make her stronger or weaker before her own test?

Maybe she could help him with plain old logic and human intervention.

Liz had to try that first.

“Okay. Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me everything. You came out here today because you couldn't shift back by choice, right?”

“Right. And I left you this morning for the same
reason.” He shuddered. “It's awful, Liz. The dragon wants to destroy everything. I can barely keep it from doing so.”

That was the will of the spellcaster. He or she wanted Brandon to be destructive. “No,” Liz said firmly. “The dragon is a part of you, and your giving nature will follow you between forms.”

“No,” Brandon argued. “The dragon is evil. Mine is stronger than I am now, and it's violent.” His gaze was tormented. “I don't want to hurt anybody, but the dragon isn't giving me a lot of choice.”

Liz's heart skipped a beat, but then she frowned. “Remember that you saved me this morning in the earthquake. And you saved that woman and her child.” She gestured back along the shore. “And just now, you saved Matt. Your dragon has done good things today, no matter what you think of it.”

“But not by choice.” Brandon's lips tightened. “Matt would never have wiped out if he hadn't been surprised by the sight of my dragon. He saw the dragon only because the dragon wanted to rip his throat out. And he would never have been out surfing today if I hadn't tried to force down my dragon by surfing myself.”

“Your dragon is being controlled by someone else,” Liz insisted. “It's acting on that person's malice.”

Brandon stared at her. “What?”

“It's a binding spell. You've been enchanted, and the scales anchored the spell.” She gestured to his wound. “I'll bet that one of them was just destroyed.”

“Like a voodoo doll?”

“Similar. Who did you give the scales to?”

Brandon lifted his hands. “Wait a minute. He's a friend of mine! You're saying he's some kind of warlock or something. That's crazy!”

Liz looked pointedly at the wound.

“Maybe someone stole them from him.” Brandon frowned when Liz said nothing. “How do you know about binding spells, anyway? Are you some kind of a witch?”

Liz changed the subject with force, her anger simmering. “You don't believe me? Then let's walk through the evidence.”

“Easy, Liz. Don't smite me for being skeptical.”

Liz took a deep breath. “When was the first time you couldn't control the dragon?”

Brandon thought for a moment. “Last night,” he said. “I thought it was the firestorm.”

“Or the eclipse,” Liz suggested.

Brandon shook his head. “No. I've seen a bunch of those. I've surfed under the eclipse before, which is awesome. This never happened before.”

“But the firestorm is supposed to be a good thing.”

He nodded. “A gift. Plus I can only be in control when you're around.”

That was when Liz remembered something from the night before. “Matt had something of yours outside the restaurant.”

Brandon's eyes lit. “That was the powder!”

“That you swapped your scales for?” At his nod,
Liz had a very bad feeling. “What exactly does the powder do?”

“Like I said, it's helped to keep my dragon contained in the past and brings me luck.”

“What kind of luck?”

Brandon's grin flashed and he looked roguish. “Women. For some reason, it attracts them.”

Liz couldn't imagine how Brandon thought he needed help to attract women. And she didn't appreciate the possibility of his having used magical powders to seduce her.

A firestorm that heralded a future together was fine. Coercion or potions to make her easy were not. Liz glared at him.

He must have seen a change in Liz's expression because he raised his hands in surrender. “No smiting! I was determined to not use it last night, not once I saw you. I knew, Liz, that you were special. And you are.”

Liz was relieved. “But Matt spread it in the air, anyway.”

Brandon winced. “The thing is that I wanted to give it back to my friend. I thought he needed it more than me. He wasn't doing so well when I saw him yesterday, so I'd intended to give it back to him today.” His expression turned rueful. “Provided I could think of a way to do that without insulting him. But now it's scattered to the winds.”

Liz remembered the sight of Brandon when the powder had taken flight, the way he had shimmered and his eye had changed. The powder had triggered
the spellcaster's control over Brandon's dragon. His friend and source of the powder had to somehow be involved with the spellcaster, maybe against his own awareness.