Ember's Kiss (30 page)

“What about your powers?” Sloane asked.

“Gone, as surely as if they had never been. I couldn't even light a match afterward.” Liz sighed. “It suited me to not be a Firedaughter anymore. I left home after my mother's funeral, and I've never been back. I don't keep in touch with my family at all, and I'm not interested in magic. I figured that exchange cost me my gift and my mother.” She turned to Brandon. “You can see why I've been determined ever since to never bear a child. No one should have to face that.”

“I'm sorry,” Brandon said. “I should have told you.”

She covered his hand with hers. “You're such a romantic,” she said softly. “I like that the firestorm was everything you wanted it to be. It was magical for me, too. If you'd told me the truth, I'm not sure anything would have been different, anyway.”

“Why not?”

Liz smiled. “Conception from one night? At the wrong time of my cycle? I'm a scientist. I wouldn't have believed you.”

“Even given your forebears' experience?” Sloane asked.

Liz shrugged. “When I got to Hawai‘i, I was still convinced that magic couldn't be part of my life. The marine biologist in me would have declared the odds too long—or maybe insisted on a condom, which, given your story, likely would have failed. I certainly
wouldn't have shared this story that first night.” She glanced up and met Brandon's gaze. “I'm not sure I could have resisted you, either.” She smiled and saw his answering smile. “I don't regret anything. I was just surprised.”

“I'm sorry,” he said again, and bent to kiss her.

Sloane cleared his throat. “Not to interrupt, but maybe we could clear up a couple of things.”

“Maybe they could wait,” Brandon said, his tone so unwelcoming that Liz smiled.

Sloane smiled, too, but he still asked, “Why are your powers back?”

It was a good question. “I don't know. I felt their return right after landing. When we drove through the tunnel, I saw Maureen's aura. That's how it started when I was a kid. First, seeing auras. Then hearing spirits. Then speaking spells.”

“See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil,” Sloane murmured.

“That was my mother's mantra.” Liz made a suggestion. “I wonder whether it's because the fire in the earth is so close to the surface here. It might be proximity that reawakened my gifts. Every time I drove that tunnel through the volcano, something else came back.”

“Maybe the firestorm sparked your gift again,” Brandon suggested.

Liz frowned. “Or maybe it was Pele.” The two guys clearly didn't understand. “The goddess of the volcanoes. She appeared to me, again when I was in the
tunnel, driving back to Kane‘ohe today, and spoke to me about my gift. She said it just needed time to regenerate, that I could never really give it away, that a connection to the elements is, well, elemental.”

“Like I can't ditch my dragon,” Brandon said, holding her tightly against his side. She looked up to find him smiling. “Now, who was the wise woman who told me that?”

Sloane cleared his throat. “We
Pyr
each have an affinity to two elements. Usually, fire is one. The affinity often manifests in more intellectual or emotional ways, though. My own affinity to water, for example, appears as empathy. That helps with my ability to heal, because I can diagnose more effectively.”

“So, you can't create rain, then?” Liz asked. “Or be a waterfall?”

Sloane seemed startled by the idea. “I don't know. I've never tried.”

“I can summon waves,” Brandon said, and both Liz and Sloane looked at him in surprise. “Sure. There are days, you know, when the surf is low and there are no good breaks to be found. If I really want to surf, I sit on the beach and I think about the ocean. I feel its rhythm. I watch the waves and I visualize how they could break better. I think of them becoming higher and more regular, and they do. It takes time, but it works.”

“Have you ever made it rain?” Liz asked him with excitement. His affinity with water was more similar to what the Waterdaughters in her family could do.

“Never tried,” he admitted with a smile. “You can't surf in the rain.” His eyes twinkled and his fingers slid into her hair in a slow caress. “But I do have a thing for a marine biologist,” he murmured, his voice so low that Liz felt all tingly. “Does that count?”

“Definitely,” Liz said, and reached up for his kiss.

“I think I'll find something else to do,” Sloane said, but Liz wasn't very interested in his plans. Brandon's mouth closed over hers and he pulled her close, his kiss as sweet and potent as she remembered. She heard the door shut to the bedroom, then a low rumble of what might have been thunder.

She pulled away to look at him with surprise. “Are you making it rain?”

Brandon laughed. “No, that's old-speak. The way dragons talk to each other. It's low, so humans hear it as thunder or passing trains.”

“What did you say?”

“I told Sloane to go away for a while, that we need some privacy.” Brandon bent to brush his lips across hers again. “I promise to try to make it rain later.”

“First things first?” Liz teased, and he grinned.

“Absolutely. Let's make love first.”

Liz touched her fingertips to one of his bandages. “Won't it hurt you?”

Brandon grinned. “If it does, it'll be totally worth it just to be with you again.”

Liz had no argument with that.

Brandon rolled her to her back, bracing himself over her. He cast back the sheet and ran his hand over
her, starting at her shoulder. His fingertips teased and tickled, his touch warm and exciting. His eyes were glinting with mischief and Liz found herself smiling back at him without understanding his intent. “Did you know that when the
Pyr
survive a fight, their first impulse is to celebrate?”

“Celebrate victory?”

“Celebrate that they're alive.” Brandon bent and kissed her neck, his breath fanning across her ear and making her shiver. He flattened his hand and ran his palm over her belly with a possessive ease that made her yearn for more. “We indulge in physical pleasure and lose ourselves in sensation.” His fingers slipped through the hair at the top of her thighs and Liz spread her legs wider.

“Really? You eat a big meal?”

“Well, feasting can be part of it. So can drinking.” His fingertips caressed her so surely that Liz gasped. “Some probably run marathons.”

“Surf,” Liz said breathlessly.

“I've done that. But making love with you is definitely my favorite way to celebrate.” He kissed her then, deeply and lingeringly. “It's almost worth fighting Jorge again,” he murmured, his eyes so dark that Liz couldn't think of a thing to say. Brandon smiled, then his mouth locked over hers one more time, his fingers so busy that she thought the celebration might not last very long at all.

Of course, she wasn't counting on his ability to feel her reactions as keenly as his own.

Brandon had told Liz the truth. He was so relieved to have survived that he wanted to celebrate—that he was alive and with Liz, nude and in a huge bed, made the particular choice of celebration inevitable. He loved that his sense of connection with her had been exactly right, that they had so much in common and that they were making some progress in conquering their respective histories.

He ran his hand over her sleek strength, liking the smooth softness of her skin. She was so fair that she looked delicate, but he already knew she was tougher than she appeared. The curve of her breast filled his hand perfectly, as if they'd been made to fit together, and Brandon knew that other parts of them fit well, too.

There was no doubt about it: Liz was the woman for him and his perfect mate.

He bent and captured her lips with his, deepening his kiss when she slipped her fingers into his hair and drew him closer. He liked the honesty of her kiss. He liked that her passion was clear and true. He touched her soft heat and swallowed her moan of pleasure.

This time, it would be even better than the last time.

Every time, it would be better than the last time. He'd make sure of it.

He broke his kiss, smiling at how drowsy she looked. Her cheeks were a bit flushed and her eyes were sparkling. He touched his lips gently to the burn
mark below her collarbone, appreciating that she'd defended herself when he hadn't been able to defend her. She gasped at his touch and he kissed her breast, flicking his tongue across the nipple until it tightened to a peak. His fingers moved against her all the while, and he felt her become wetter and warmer beneath his caress.

He trailed kisses down the length of her and pushed her thighs wider apart. Just a touch of his fingers and Liz opened herself to him. When his mouth closed over her, she made a little cry of pleasure, one that made him smile. He held her feet in his hands, caressing her insteps with his thumbs as his tongue teased her. She moaned and twisted, and Brandon took her to the cusp of pleasure.

He paused deliberately, and she growled in frustration. “Tease!” she accused, and threw a pillow at him. Brandon laughed; then Liz launched herself at him. The bed was big enough to give them room to play.

Brandon caught her and rolled to his back, holding her against his chest. Her laughter faded as she touched the wound on his shoulder with cautious fingertips. That gash was healing quickly, thanks to Sloane's unguent, and it had already scabbed over. It was tender, but not nearly as sore as the wounds on his abdomen.

He knew that Sloane didn't like the look of them.

Liz met his gaze as her fingertips hovered near the bandage. “Chen?”

“Jorge.”

She removed the bandage, then bent and touched
her lips to the healing wound, a kiss as light as the caress of a butterfly. Then she did the same to the spots on his abdomen, without removing the bandages, her soft touch sending warmth through Brandon's body. She slid down the length of him, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to stand it if she took him in her mouth. He felt himself get harder and thicker just at the prospect.

But Liz looked up at him with bright eyes. “Let me see you in dragon form,” she whispered.

Brandon recoiled in horror from the idea. “No!”

“It's part of you,” Liz insisted. “It's part of who you are. I want to know all of you.”

Brandon swallowed and averted his gaze, his mood changing with her suggestion. “It's evil.”

“Only because someone evil has been driving it. When you're in charge, your dragon saves lives and works for good. Let me see him.” Liz smiled. “Let me
see
you.”

Brandon slipped from beneath her and rolled to the side of the bed. He had to think about this, and he couldn't think about anything other than Liz when she was sprawled on top of him, naked.

Maybe his dragon wasn't such a bad legacy. Being
Pyr
had brought him the firestorm, which had revealed his connection to Liz. He'd noticed her immediately, but the firestorm had made their quick union possible. And he'd been able to save her from the earthquake, partly because he'd sensed it early and partly because he'd been able to fly above the island
to keep her safe. Now Sloane had arrived, because they were both
Pyr
, which had both helped Brandon to save Liz and started his own healing.

“Think of it as a scientific exploration,” Liz said, and Brandon couldn't help smiling.

“Studying a new species?” he teased.

Liz smiled. “I want to know all about you, and not just for the sake of science.” She then pointed at his injuries. “Wounds follow you between forms, right? I want to see those injuries, have a look at why two are still bleeding and the others aren't.”

“You know why. Those are where my scales are missing.”

Liz arched a brow, bouncing a bit on the side of the bed. “And the others are just where
Slayers
tried to rip your guts out? Seems to me that they should all be pretty serious.”

“You want to see how strong his magic is.”

She shrugged and smiled.

Her suggestion did make sense. If she could see the difference in the wounds, because of her powers, maybe she could help him to heal.

Brandon considered the generous dimensions of the room and wondered whether Sloane had chosen this suite because the ceilings were so high. “Okay,” he said, and gave her fingers a squeeze. He stood up and moved to the middle of the room. He tugged off the bandages, and Liz came to look at the wounds. The two on his belly were already weeping blood, and they looked puffier than the others.

Sloane's unguent wasn't making a difference to them.

Liz met his gaze steadily. Her concern was clear, and it spooked him a bit. After all, she knew more about magic and its effects than he did.

Then she took a step back, giving him space to change forms.

Brandon reminded himself that she'd witnessed his transformation before. He winked, pretending to feel more confident than he was. “This one's for you,” he said, then summoned the shift.