Ember's Kiss (31 page)

T
he blue shimmer surrounded Brandon instantly. It was biddable and under his command, and Brandon knew that was because of Liz's presence. He felt the tingle of energy pass over his flesh and surge through his body, and this time he tried to feel the good in it. It was powerful and primal to change like this, and when he welcomed the change—instead of fighting it—it roared through him like a tsunami. He tipped back his head and bellowed, taking pleasure in the raw strength of the transformation.

He felt the sharpening of his senses as he changed. They were keen, anyway, but he was even more observant in dragon form. His eyesight was sharper—he could focus on any item and magnify his vision of it without moving any closer. He could smell nuances and distant scents.

He could hear Sloane breathing dragonsmoke in the next room in a slow hiss, the elevators in the hotel,
and the gossip of the staff already arriving in the kitchens far below the room. He could hear the call of the sea, the ebb and flow of the tide, and feel the frisson of energy in life on the reef.

He turned to Liz to find her smiling at him. Not afraid. Relief flooded through him and he offered her a claw. She stepped closer and now he could see the faint shimmer of firelight that surrounded her body. It was like an aura or the light that emanated from the hidden moon when it was eclipsed by the Earth.

She took his claw, and the pleasure that surged through Brandon astonished him. Her touch felt right and good, as if she alone could be the anchor of his universe. It wasn't just that his senses that were amplified; his emotional reaction to Liz was more powerful, too.

Liz flattened her other hand and ran her palm over his scales. Her caress was warm and soothing as well as arousing. Brandon felt hot with desire, his every nerve tingling with awareness of her touch. He looked down and he saw the sparkle of light between her hand and his own scaled hide.

It was like the firestorm, dimmed but still bright.

Burning hot and fueling his ardor for his mate.

Because she was a Firedaughter. He thought of the sparks that flew from her when she was angry and knew it was part of the same suite of powers.

Liz flicked a glance at him and smiled, and he was sure that she was feeling exactly the same thing as he. She studied his wounds, her brow furrowed. “I'm no
doctor, but these two don't look like they're going to heal.”

“I think Sloane has the same feeling.”

Liz nodded and lifted her left hand away from him. “Let me try.” There was resolve in her tone, a confidence that gave Brandon faith. She blew on her palm, murmured something he didn't understand, then pressed the flat of her hand hard against one open wound.

Pain fired through Brandon from that point and he threw back his head to roar. He felt as if his skin was being seared, like she had put a hot iron against his belly.

“Fire cauterizes,” Liz said, keeping her hand flat against him. “Fire cleanses and purifies.” He looked at her and saw that she was once again illuminated with that inner fire. Sparks flew from the ends of her hair, and her eyes were aglow with confidence. She was radiant and beautiful, looking like a deity herself.

No. She was a Firedaughter.

Brandon knew she was right about the purification. He could feel the difference in this heat. It wasn't digging deep to injure him or to destroy him. It wasn't trying to control him or kill him. It was cauterizing his skin, like the sting of Sloane's unguent but a hundred times fiercer.

“Fire heals,” he said, gasping when she lifted her hand away.

There were tears in his eyes and his heart was pounding from the pain. Brandon looked down and
saw that the bit of exposed skin was bright red. The wound was closed and the blood around it had dried. It wasn't angry and blistered anymore, and it didn't look like it would fester. In fact, his skin was so smooth that it looked as if he'd received the injury a week or more before.

Brandon wondered whether the spot would be impermeable to dragonsmoke.

He shifted to human form, and the healing was consistent. He cast Liz a grin.

“Okay?” Liz asked softly.

Brandon drew her into his arms and kissed her. He didn't doubt that she could feel his skin trembling after her touch. “More than okay,” he said. “Better.”

She smiled at him and let her fingertips slide over the spot again. Her touch soothed the skin, making it tingle and cool. “So, I haven't forgotten everything,” she said.

“Will you do the other one?”

“Do you think you can bear it now? We could wait.”

“No.” Brandon shook his head. “We don't know when they're coming back. I need to be as strong as possible in order to defend you.” He lifted his hands. “Which form?”

“It's bigger in your dragon form and I think it's easier to see.”

“Okay, once more, with feeling,” he said, summoning the shimmer from deep in his thoughts. “Then we'll really have something to celebrate.”

Liz laughed just as the change rocked through him. Brandon was already thinking of a thousand ways to show his gratitude for her help.

He was definitely going to make it worth her while to be with him.

Liz was awed by Brandon's trust. She appreciated that it hadn't been easy for him to choose to shift shape at all, let alone to do it in front of her. She hadn't planned to try to heal him, but as soon as she saw the angry heat of those areas of exposed skin, she'd remembered Pele's words.

And she'd known why she was his partner. She'd seen the hand of destiny and the role she could play in his life. She'd acted on instinct, and it had worked beautifully. She was as amazed as Brandon by her ability to heal him.

She knew it must have hurt, so she was glad when he'd asked her to do the other spot. Where his third scale was missing, the skin was smooth and unbroken—there was just a gap in his armor. She wanted Brandon to be strong, not just so that he could defend her but so that he was healed. Plus she was pretty sure that Chen and Jorge would be back.

She healed the second spot the same way as the first, seeing that he was in pain but enduring it for the greater good. She was so proud of him and couldn't blame him when he roared with satisfaction when she was done. He blew a plume of dragonfire across the room, bellowed with joy, then snatched her up in his
claws. Liz laughed at his delight; then he began to shine with that strange blue light again.

A heartbeat later, she was in Brandon's arms and he was kissing her as if he'd never get enough of her. She ran her hands over him, feeling that the damaged skin was smoother even though it was still warm. He'd endured so much and now it was time to give the man some pleasure to balance the pain.

Liz locked her hands around his hips, then bent and took his strength in her mouth. Brandon moaned and his fingers slid into her hair. He braced his legs against the floor, welcoming her touch, and Liz ensured that she made it last. He was so strong, so confident, and she never wanted to be without him. She suckled him and slid her tongue over him, caressing him so that he got harder and thicker.

When she was sure he was about to explode, she stopped and looked up at him.

“Tease!” he breathed, then grinned. He caught her in his arms and dove onto the bed. Liz was stretched out beside him, pressed against his strength. He kissed her deeply, rolling her beneath him. He was inside her in one smooth stroke, filling her with his heat. Liz moaned with pleasure and rolled her hips.

And when he moved slowly, deliberately feeding her desire again, she thought she might explode.

She also knew that this was just the beginning.

Chen was livid.

He dove deep into the earth, chanting to the
magma that seethed below the surface. He swam as far down the crevasse of the ocean vent as he dared, inciting fury in the volcano and urging action.

He had been burned.

He had had the darkfire crystal poked into his eye!

He had been cheated.

He wanted vengeance.

Chen manifested in his lair, dripping wet and steaming with anger. He could scarcely see out of his damaged eye and his black blood was flowing from that wound with vigor. The sand spiral on the floor that was part of his charm was destroyed, and one deep breath told him who was responsible. That same breath revealed how his prey had escaped this perfect prison.

Jorge.

Brandon's scales were all gone, and Chen could guess where they were. He would have to start the spell all over again to ensure success in claiming Brandon, and he didn't have time. He could feel the
Pyr
gathering and triumph slipping from his grasp.

Again.

Brandon was supposed to be an easy victory, but things on the island had turned complicated. Chen wanted a prize. He wanted it now. And he wanted a prize that would both dishearten and weaken the
Pyr
. He'd waited long enough for Viv Jason—who'd vowed that she was Chen's ally—to bring him the
Pyr
Thorolf as a sacrifice.

She must have lied.

Chen would collect his due himself.

When he slaughtered Thorolf, he would claim that
Pyr
's affinity for air. That would strengthen Chen's own powers, giving him a greater ability to spellcast. And then Brandon would once more be in his grasp.

He loved the idea as soon as he had it.

Bangkok was his destination of choice.

Brandon awakened when the first fingers of sunlight reached into the room. He could hear the birds stirring outside and the rumble of old-speak from the main room. He stayed in bed, wrapped around Liz as she slept, and listened. There were three other
Pyr
from the sounds of it, and Sloane was bringing them up to date. Brandon smiled that the Apothecary knew what Liz had done to his skin the night before.

He didn't recognize the voices of the other three dragons, but he assumed two must be Erik and Quinn. He felt Liz's warmth against him and acknowledged the change she'd already made in his life. Just days ago, he'd been determined to shake his
Pyr
legacy. Since his firestorm, he was coming to terms with the truth of his nature and he was reassured to have the other
Pyr
at his back. Liz had been right about that.

He was, though, still glad that his dad hadn't arrived.

Maybe his dad's own nature had been the problem, not his dragon-shifter abilities.

Maybe the other
Pyr
knew that, too.

Maybe his mom had been calling his dad a monster
because of the way he acted, not because of what he could become.

It was a startling idea. Brandon rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about this. Could she have just been reacting to the fact that his dad had deceived her?

But no. If that were the case, she wouldn't have called Brandon a monster, too. His mom knew he wasn't evil—she'd raised him. He could still hear her furious accusation and it still stung.

“You awake?”
Sloane asked in old-speak, the volume of the question in Brandon's thoughts revealing that it had been directed at him.

“You already know it,”
Brandon replied, and Liz stirred.

“Your breathing changed,”
Sloane said.
“Come meet the team.”

Liz braced herself on her elbow, looking between the window and Brandon. “It's not thunder, is it?” she asked.

“There are more
Pyr
here,” Brandon told her. “They want to make a plan.”

Liz surveyed herself. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“A quick one,”
Sloane said, obviously overhearing her question.
“No celebrating in there.”

Brandon laughed, and Liz watched him without comprehension. “They said we can't celebrate in the shower.”

Liz got out of bed with purpose. There was a defiant
glint in her eye, one that made Brandon's thoughts turn in a predictable direction. “If we do, they'll have to wait,” she said, then smiled at him.

“I'm not sure they will.” Brandon rolled out of bed and caught her hand, spinning her around for a quick kiss. When they were both breathless and his heart was racing along with hers, he tugged her toward the bathroom.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature, and admired the size of the stall. Liz was looking for toothbrushes in the basket of toiletries offered by the hotel. Brandon turned back to make a teasing comment and saw the change in her skin.

He stared, incredulous, as the bathroom filled with steam. Liz laid out toiletries on the counter, obviously unaware of the transformation.

“Look at your burn,” he said softly.

Liz's hand rose to her collarbone as she glanced at him; then she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The angry red burn below her collarbone had faded during the night and her skin was again as pale as porcelain there. But now there was a design etched on her flesh, almost like a tattoo.

It was a five-pointed star, but with two points missing.

“My mother's pentacle,” Liz whispered, tracing the outline of the star with one fingertip. “This is what was on her pendant.”

Brandon adjusted the silver chain she still wore, pulling it down in front with his fingertip as if a
pendant hung on it. The tattoo was exactly where the pendant must have been. “Looks like you got the permanent version,” he said, then saw that Liz's eyes were filled with tears. He pulled her into his arms. “Tell me.”

“It was the only thing I had of hers, other than the memory of that night,” she confessed against his skin. “I was upset that it was lost.”

“Not lost,” Brandon said. “Her pendant took the hit for you so that you could survive.” Liz looked up at him. “Like your mom was looking out for you.”

She smiled tremulously. “I like that.” She reached up and kissed him again. “Thank you.”

Brandon kissed her back, catching her against him.