Ember's Kiss (23 page)

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Authors: Deborah Cooke

BOOK: Ember's Kiss
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“For a shaman?”

“Or a seer. Someone who ventures into uncharted turf. Physical or psychic.”

“Like a Dreamwalker,” Niall suggested. “You could give me one.”

Rox smiled at him and shook her head. “No. It's more than copyright or intellectual property. It's not my area of expertise and I'm not going to trespass. This is the work of a shaman, chosen by him for this guy, and it's powerful stuff.”

“Powerful enough to protect him from
Slayers
?”

Rox looked at Niall in astonishment. “He's
Pyr
? This surfer is a
Pyr
?”

“He had his firestorm this weekend.”

Rox looked back at the screen. “That's not the only reason you're looking at this, is it? You think he's in trouble.”

“I have a bad feeling. Sloane, too.”

“So do I.” Rox shook her head. “Someone gave him these designs for a reason, and knowing how you guys are, his big fight is going to be now, during his firestorm.”

“Because he has something to lose.” Niall took Rox's hand in his and squeezed her fingers.

He watched her swallow; then she nodded. “My sister will take the boys, if you want to go.”

Niall got to his feet. “I want to go, but we'll all go. I can feel the darkfire, and I don't trust it. I want us all
together.” He smiled for Rox. “Erik and Quinn are going tonight. If we hurry, we can get to Chicago and be on the same flight.”

Rox rolled her eyes and grinned. “No dragon flights? That's the best part of travelling with you!”

“Not all the way to Hawai‘i, when we're not sure what we'll find when we get there.”

“Hawai‘i!” Rox cried in delight. She looked back at the Web site displayed on the laptop, then slapped her forehead. “Of course. I'm packing my tattoo guns, then I'll be ready to go. We can buy sunscreen and bathing suits on the beach.”

Niall caught her close and gave her a searing kiss. “I love how decisive you are.”

“That's not all you love about me,” Rox teased, her eyes dancing. “But we'll review that later. Let's go!”

Chapter 9

T
here was something weird going on.

Brandon felt as if his senses were on full alert, the way they had been when he'd sensed the earthquake that morning well before it had started. He felt edgy and on the cusp of violence, as if his dragon was going to break free once again.

It must be because Liz had left. She would be halfway down the island by now, and sheer distance from her was giving his dragon more power.

He was disconcerted by the shimmer of blue that he thought he had seen around Chen. Had he imagined it? Because even he, with his rudimentary dragon powers, could smell a
Pyr
when he paid attention, and Chen smelled completely human. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was that part of the dragon gaining the upper hand?

One thing Brandon knew was that he had to solve this and get to Liz.

All he had to do was get a bit of that powder at Chen's. Maybe there was some residue trapped in the container he had, enough that Liz could test it. He wasn't going to open the container and risk losing whatever remained inside. Liz could do it.

The man leaning on his arm was almost a ghost of what Chen had been when Brandon had first met him. He really must be dying. He certainly didn't have a lot of strength. Brandon was practically carrying him. He felt sorry for his old friend, just fading away without any family or friends beside him.

Well, except Brandon.

How could Sloane suggest that Chen was a
Slayer
? It was the same as his father making pronouncements about his human friends, wanting control of Brandon's life. And Sloane was acting like Brandon's dad, too—just popping up unexpectedly with ideas and demands and plans. Brandon resented that Sloane had tried to influence Liz, and he could have done without Sloane telling her about the baby.

Brandon had wanted to do that himself.

He didn't blame Liz for believing Sloane's suspicions. She didn't know Chen. She didn't know anything much about the
Pyr
. And she was understandably angry with him for not telling her the whole truth.

Brandon wished he had. At least she knew some of it, and it had been only a day. He was doing better than his own father.

And he was going to do even better than he had so far.

He slanted a glance at the frail man hanging on to his arm. He must have imagined the blue shimmer that had seemed to dance around the perimeter of Chen's body. Brandon had caught only the barest glimpse of it, so little that he didn't trust his eyes. Chen couldn't be a
Slayer
, not without smelling like a dragon shifter. That shimmer must have had something to do with that lightbulb exploding. Like the light in it had gone crazy or something.

Still, Brandon couldn't dismiss his uneasiness.

What was Liz refusing to tell him? Why did she get all sparky when she was angry with him? What was she afraid of?

It took a thousand years for them to get across the street, a thousand anxious years as cars swerved around them and Brandon thought about the time passing. Chen seemed to move more and more slowly, as if he were going to run out of steam in the middle of the road. Brandon again felt uneasy at the idea of leaving him alone.

“Chen, do you have any family or close friends I should call for you? It seems like maybe you should have some company tonight.”

Chen coughed. “No family. All dead. No friends.” He gave Brandon a weak smile. “Just one good friend. It is enough.”

Brandon felt a twinge of guilt. Should he stay with Chen tonight? It would be awful to leave him to die alone, but Brandon really had to pursue Liz.

“You know that powder, Chen?”

“I know it well.”

“What is it, really?”

Chen gave him a surprisingly sly smile. “Ancient Chinese secret,” he said, and Brandon was startled by his sense that Chen was messing with him. His manner had suddenly changed so much. Chen never made jokes, and he'd spoken both quickly and clearly.

Without an accent.

The look in his eyes had almost been predatory.

And his eyes had shone as they never did.

Brandon's dragon snarled with new vigor.

“I beg your pardon?” Brandon asked. They stepped onto a path that twisted away from the main road and headed toward the mountains. It wound from one side to the other, making a course that reminded Brandon of a snake.

His dragon disliked that their destination was hidden by foliage.

In fact, the vegetation grew surprisingly dense on either side of the path, blocking the views of the surrounding houses. The hair prickled on the back of his neck, and he found himself agreeing with his dragon's distrust of the situation.

He felt threatened. That's what was the same as earlier that morning. His dragon had responded exactly like this right before the earthquake—right before the ceiling had fallen and could have killed Liz.

There was a risk or a danger lurking on this path. Did someone intend to mug Chen because he was a weak old man? Were they going to get jumped by
some kid? Brandon scanned the shadows on either side, looking for trouble.

Chen shuffled his feet as they walked, nodding. “It is an old secret remedy,” he said, sounding more like his usual self. “The grandfather of my grandfather made it first and he taught me.”

“Your grandfather's grandfather?” Brandon asked, thinking that Chen was getting confused. No human could live that long. “But what's in it?”

Chen chuckled, and it was a surprisingly dark sound. “It is secret.”

“Can't you tell me? One friend to another?” Brandon smiled when Chen glanced up, trying to look friendly and trustworthy.

“Dragon bones,” a guy contributed.

Brandon looked up with surprise. There had been no one on the path, but now there was a big, buff guy with a blond buzz cut who was blocking their way.

He had appeared without Brandon hearing him approach.

“Isn't that right, Chen? You make it out of incinerated dragon shape shifters?” The guy winked at Brandon, and it wasn't a friendly expression. “I'll guess that you're going to be the source of the new supply.”

“Fool!” Chen roared. There was no disputing the fact that he was shimmering blue now. He straightened and was nearly as tall as Brandon. Chen's entire body was surrounded by a halo of bright, flickering blue light.

Brandon's mouth fell open.

Chen was
Pyr
!

In the blink of an eye, Chen became a red dragon with gold scales and gold horns. Brandon was shocked. Chen reared back and breathed fire at the guy in the path. The plume of flame was long and vivid, and the fire licked the wooden porch of the house that had been behind the guy.

It missed the guy because he'd become a dragon of vivid yellow and taken flight.

Brandon thought the pair would fight each other, but the yellow dragon laughed. He thrashed his tail through the air and took a long, deep breath as he hovered overhead. “Mmm. I smell fresh mate,” he snarled, then disappeared as if he had never been.

He was going to target Liz!

“No!” Brandon had to fly to the defense of his mate. His dragon roared, compelling him to shift shape faster than he ever had before.

It didn't matter, though. The red dragon that was Chen turned on him with a snarl and moved quicker than lightning.

By the time Brandon had shifted shape, Chen's claws were already locked tightly around his neck. The other dragon squeezed, and his delight in the pain he caused was clear. Even in dragon form, Brandon couldn't fight the other dragon's deathly grip.

He tried.

He slashed at his opponent, still astonished that his friend would attack him. His talons dug into Chen's shoulder and the blood ran black over his scales.

Chen was
Slayer
.

Brandon should have listened to Liz.

He struggled with new vigor, knowing his chances of ever listening to Liz again were fading fast. Chen was murmuring something, something that made Brandon's dragon sleepy and ineffective. The spots where his scales were missing burned, as if touched by fire, sapping the strength from his body.

She was right about the binding spell, too.

Brandon felt like an idiot. He got in one good punch, landing a claw to Chen's gut, and the
Slayer
's grip loosened slightly.

Chen bared his teeth then, and Brandon heard the hiss of dragonsmoke.

He struggled, but the dragonsmoke snaked toward his gut. He screamed when it plunged into the wound like a knife and he roared as he felt it sucking his strength. Chen chuckled darkly and his claws tightened even more around Brandon's throat. He squeezed the life out of Brandon as his spell—because it couldn't be anything else—was commanding Brandon's dragon to surrender. All Brandon could see were those eyes, eyes as malicious as Chen's had been only once.

Chen had been lying to him.

And it was too late for Brandon to do anything about it. Only now he realized why Chen knew so much about dragons. He'd been manipulated. He'd distrusted his observations, he'd failed to listen to Liz, and he'd been surprised.

And now he would die for it.

Brandon saw the colors of the vegetation dim even as he thrashed against his opponent's ferocious grip. Chen was not as feeble in dragon form as he was in human form—his ability to fight hard made Brandon wonder whether he was feeble at all.

The taunt in old-speak floated to Brandon's ears, piercing the veil of pain. He recognized the yellow dragon's voice.
“If I have the mate and you have the
Pyr,
which one of us will he surrender to, Chen? Let's find out.”

Chen roared with fury at the challenge, so he had heard it, too.

The yellow dragon would kill Liz; Brandon knew it.

He had to stop them both.

Terror gave him new strength and he whipped his tail against Chen, struggling with all his might. Chen snarled and his grip loosened slightly, giving Brandon time to hope.

Suddenly there was a dizzying flash. He had the sense of being lifted and of moving through a fog. He felt nauseated, then cold. Chen's grip loosened and Brandon fell onto a hard floor.

For a moment he thought he was alone, but his dragon wasn't convinced. Brandon looked again and saw a red lizard running across the floor. It slipped through the crack under the door. Brandon rose to his knees and saw an Asian woman in a tight dress marching down the path. She disappeared from sight.

Then he
was
alone.

Was she Chen, too?

Brandon lunged for the door and collided with a burning wall of ice. He fell back with a shout of pain and narrowed his eyes, only then discerning the dragonsmoke barrier.

He was a prisoner.

Chen's prisoner.

And they were going to kill Liz.

Brandon closed his eyes, hating that his mistakes had led him to this place. He hadn't wanted to have any involvement with the
Pyr
, but now he was in serious trouble, with no idea how to solve it. He had to start to make amends, and fast.

Liz's life depended on it.

Brandon shouted in old-speak as clearly as he could.
“Help me! Help my mate!”

There was no reply.

But then, it wasn't as if he'd practiced his dragon skills. No, he'd spent time in the surf, honing those skills, determined to make himself a future that way.

Now neither he nor Liz had a future.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Liz's anger with Brandon lasted all the way down the middle of the island, until she got close to Honolulu. It was when the entry to the tunnel loomed before her that frustration abandoned her.

Because fear took its place.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as the entry to the tunnel came steadily closer. There hadn't been any aftershocks for a while, she told herself.
She'd driven through the mountain once already since the earthquake and everything had been (mostly) fine. It wasn't that long of a tunnel, and she couldn't think of anything worse happening than the mark appearing on her arm. The drive wouldn't take long; then she could just stay in Kane‘ohe.

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