Ember's Kiss (22 page)

He'd tell her everything.

And she'd listen, because she'd calm down on her drive across the island. She'd feel better once she was back at the Institute and was sure she wasn't letting anyone down. Brandon respected her sense of responsibility and her loyalty to her friends.

He'd do the one thing she'd asked of him before he went after her. But he'd take the vial to her, not to Sloane. She could test the powder for him.

Brandon strode across the bar toward Chen.

With any luck, he'd be on his way to Kane‘ohe in fifteen minutes.

Chen was still seething.

Someone had invaded his lair this morning.

Worse, someone had invaded his lair and stolen one of the scales he had collected from Brandon. Worse yet, the villain in question had broken one of the scales, proving that he knew their importance. Now, instead of needing a single scale to complete his spell, Chen had need of two more.

It hadn't been any ordinary intruder. It certainly hadn't been a human one. The thief had been a
Slayer
; of that Chen was certain, because there wasn't a whiff of scent outside his lair. There also had been no disruption of his dragonsmoke barrier, woven so high and thick that it would strike any dragon intruder to ice on contact.

No. The villain had gone around the dragonsmoke, not through it.

He was
Slayer
, and his feats proved that he had drunk the Dragon's Blood Elixir.

There was only one
Slayer
other than Chen who had drunk the Elixir and survived.

Jorge had come for vengeance.

And the last of the Elixir.

In a way, it would be interesting to see who won this feud. Would Chen replenish his Dragon Bone Powder with Jorge's corpse, or would Jorge suck the last vestiges of Elixir from Chen's own marrow?

Chen gripped his glass more tightly than was necessary and knew which
Slayer
he would bet on. He was quite sure that he had a better plan than Jorge. He also knew he was smarter. He had deceived Jorge more than once in the past.

Jorge was angry and passionate. That could lead a dragon to make mistakes of the most fateful kind. Jorge was also proud—another fatal flaw. Chen sipped his juice and resolved to work with these weaknesses.

Just as he would work with the meddling of the Apothecary. It was laughable that the
Pyr
had sent only one of their kind to face Chen. Of course, they probably thought they were merely supporting Brandon's firestorm. They must not have realized that Chen was here.

Which gave him time to spring the trap. He'd be gone before they arrived.

Or he would have been, if it hadn't been for Jorge.

His anger simmered, and Brandon chose that moment to reappear.

“You okay?” the young
Pyr
asked as he slid back into his seat. “You look a bit pale, Chen.”

Chen coughed weakly. “It is the sun,” he said. “I have become unaccustomed to it. I walked here without my cane.”

Brandon looked worried. “Look, I'm sorry, but I don't have any more of that powder you gave me.”

“It was a gift, my friend.” Chen coughed.

“I know it makes you feel better, but my friend wasted it when he was joking around.” Brandon grimaced. “I was going to give it back to you, but it's gone.”

Chen swallowed a smile. Little did this foolish
Pyr
know that the Dragon Bone Powder was never wasted. “It was a gift between friends. You owe me no apology.”

Brandon looked around, then leaned over the table. “Look, Chen, I can't stay long, but I wanted to ask your advice. Do you remember what you used to tell me about the dragon? About control?”

Chen nodded wearily. “Yes, yes. All power must remain in its place.”

“Exactly. But I have a problem.”

Chen coughed again, apparently disinterested. “We know this, my friend, but you have worked hard…”

“No, Chen, it got stronger. A lot stronger. It had something to do with the eclipse, maybe, or—” Brandon fell silent.

“Or?” Chen prompted.

“I had my firestorm,” the young
Pyr
whispered.

“I do not know this term,” Chen lied. “Should I understand?”

Brandon grimaced. “I met a girl and sparks flew, and my dad told me once that this was the mark of the firestorm. I thought it would make everything better and put the dragon in its place.”

“But?” Chen pretended to be confused. What a moron this
Pyr
was! Of course his dragon had been empowered by the firestorm! But it had been the powder that had pushed that power beyond Brandon's control.

And the scales in Chen's possession had shifted that control to Chen. He nearly snarled aloud at Jorge's audacity.

“You okay?” Brandon asked. He'd leaned back and his expression was wary.

“I am sorry,” Chen said. “I am tired today. Please tell me of your fire, fire…”

“Firestorm. It must have made the dragon stronger. I changed shape without meaning to do it, and it was really hard to change back.”

Chen nodded thoughtfully. He frowned, letting Brandon worry about this a bit longer. “You must strike at the dragon's heart,” he said finally. “You must weaken it so that it surrenders to your will.”

“Well, how do I do that?”

Chen smiled. “You know. We have done this before.” He sipped his juice, holding Brandon's gaze.

The young
Pyr
's horror was clear. “Another scale? You want me to rip another scale free?”

Chen's eyes narrowed. This reaction was new and unwelcome. His resistance was the mate's fault. “Perhaps
two would be better,” he suggested, keeping his tone level with an effort.

“No way!”

Chen stifled his irritation.
No?
Brandon dared to deny Chen's will? It was outrageous that he should now become defiant.

It was the Firedaughter. She was the one turning Brandon against him. Chen could afford to play this game no longer. He had to seize what he wanted and complete his scheme immediately.

While the mate was gone.

He forced himself to keep a philosophical tone. “It will weaken your adversary.”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea. I think I should keep the rest. Liz thinks it's wrong that I gave them up, and I agree with her.”

Chen snarled at the acknowledgment of the mate's influence.

“After all, they're not growing back the way I'd expected them to.”

Chen wanted to breathe fire.

“Perhaps your Liz knows less of dragons than I do,” he said, keeping his tone mild.

Brandon drummed his fingers on the table, discontented. “What do you do with them, anyway?”

“I admire them. All of nature is beautiful, even that which is dangerous.” Chen gestured to the beach. “Think of the waves you ride, which look so beautiful but maim and kill. They are not unlike your dragon. They must be respected. They must be controlled.”

“No,” Brandon said with finality. “That plan's not working. I need to find another way.” He leaned closer. “Liz thinks it might be a binding spell. Have you ever heard of that?”

Chen was livid. This was the darkfire's influence. First Jorge stole from him; then the mate bolstered Brandon's defiance. Did they not understand that he was destined to rule all? Did they not understand that resistance was futile?

Brandon's eyes narrowed as he watched Chen. At his expression, Chen looked down at his hands and glimpsed the pale blue shimmer of the light that flashed before the shift to dragon form. There was just the barest flicker of it showing, enough that a person might doubt his own eyes. He quenched it immediately, extinguishing the light that could reveal him for what he truly was.

And he created a distraction. He turned his thoughts to the lightbulb in the fixture hanging over the next table. He murmured to its electric flame and coaxed it to burn too brightly. Using his affinity with fire and his ability to turn that element to his will, he urged the current to a surge of power.

The bulb shattered with a pop, creating both a flash of light and a shower of broken glass. The people seated there leapt up in dismay, the bartender called out, and someone came to sweep up the mess. The bar erupted in noisy chatter.

Brandon looked at the light, then back at Chen's hands, then inhaled deeply.

Chen almost smiled. The young dragon would detect no scent from Chen, for he had his scent completely disguised. That ability was the gift of the Elixir. Brandon was still suspicious, though, and Chen knew he was trying to reconcile that glimpse of blue shimmer with Chen having no
Pyr
or
Slayer
scent.

He'd have to work quickly to secure this prize, before the mate cheated him of it.

Chen sighed. “As you say, we must find another way. I am too tired right now, my old friend. Let me think about this.” He started to push himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the table as if he were too feeble to stand. “You said you must go.”

Brandon immediately reached over and grabbed his elbow. “Let me help you first.”

“No, no. I am just a feeble old man. Your girlfriend will be looking for you.”

Indecision warred in the young dragon's eyes; then duty won him over. “It'll just take a minute.”

Chen nearly chortled in delight. The young
Pyr
was such a fool.

Reckless of the danger before him, Brandon held Chen's elbow as the
Slayer
pretended to waver on his feet. “Maybe you should go back to your place and crash for a while. Get some sleep.”

Chen nodded. “Yes, yes. This is very wise advice.” He took a step and deliberately let his knee buckle.

Brandon caught him, and the
Slayer
smothered his delight with an effort. So gullible! It would almost be too easy to take this one down.

And, really, he deserved no less for daring to refuse Chen's request.

“Here. I'll help you. Lean on my arm. It can't be that far to your place.”

“You know where I stay?”

“Not exactly, but I know it's in town,” Brandon said with a smile. “You always walk. You can make it back if I help you.”

Chen passed a hand over his forehead. “Ah yes. I forget so much now. You are kind.” He leaned heavily on Brandon and let the young
Pyr
lead him out to the street.

“You don't have any more of that powder, do you, Chen?” Brandon asked. “Just a little?”

Chen smiled, feigning ignorance. “You wish to charm your girlfriend?”

“No, um, not really.” The young
Pyr
smiled. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt.”

Chen patted Brandon's arm. “I have a little, not much, but I will share it with you. It is in my room.”

“Excellent. Thanks, Chen. I knew you were a good friend.”

Chen nearly chortled to himself in anticipation. He had been content to stalk his prey before, and had enjoyed persuading Brandon to cooperate in his own destruction. But Chen couldn't afford to wait any longer.

Especially if his prey was going to become willful.

The house Chen had bought was set back from the others in town, approached by a winding path that
was very private. Chen now saw its usefulness as he had never before. The restaurants and shops were busy, and people who were home were inside, preparing for their evening meals. There would be no witnesses when he shifted, attacked, and dragged his victim into his lair. The dragonsmoke barrier was thick and deep, and it would burn like fiery ice if the young
Pyr
tried to escape, weakening him even more.

Chen would enslave Brandon before dark and double his power besides. Jorge would get a surprise when he returned.

For Chen had no doubt that the
Slayer
intended to try to bargain with him.

Chen chuckled to himself, hiding his anticipation with a cough.

In New York, the
Pyr
Niall Talbot hung up the phone with a frown. He was in the office of his ecotourism company, alone on a Saturday to catch up on his filing. He'd just talked to Sloane and was intrigued by what his old friend had told him about this firestorm. Of course, he'd felt it spark earlier and had known it was far away. It had a funny feeling to it, though, one that reminded him of the tingle of darkfire.

He shared Sloane's sense that this young dragon might need the help of the
Pyr
to see his way clearly through the storm. Not everyone would go to the firestorm, as the darkfire had fed dissent within the ranks of the
Pyr
. But Niall and Sloane went way back, and Niall trusted his friend's assessment of the situation.

If Rox agreed, they would go.

Niall had already pulled up the Web site for the Billabong Pipeline Masters when his partner Rox came up the stairs from her tattoo shop. He smiled when she peeked around the corner of his door.

“Am I interrupting serious work?”

“No. Check this out.” Niall clicked through to the brief résumé of one of the wild-card contestants, Brandon Merrick. One glance at the young
Pyr
and he knew his mate would be up for the trip.

“Nice tribals,” Rox said, peering at the screen. Niall wasn't surprised that she was most interested in the surfer's tattoos. Tribal tattoos were more graphic in design than Rox's own designs and usually rendered in black only. Rox worked with a veritable rainbow of colors. “That one's unusual,” she said, pointing to the design on his arm.

“Is it? I thought they were just different designs.”

“No, no.” Rox was looking intently at the shot. She pushed Niall's hand aside and took control of the laptop, zooming in on the tattoo of choice. It was a spiral. “They're symbolic, deeply so. In a lot of South Pacific cultures a tattoo artist is a kind of shaman. He chooses the tattoo design for the customer on the basis of his understanding of that person's needs.”

She focused on one of the other tattoos. “This one is a protection symbol, usually used for someone who tends to be targeted by others. This one is for a warrior, someone who fights, usually someone idealistic and driven by principle.” Rox returned to the spiral
tattoo that had initially intrigued her. “This spiral, though, is shamanistic in itself.”