Ember's Kiss (6 page)

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Authors: Deborah Cooke

BOOK: Ember's Kiss
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He had to see Kay. He had to know for sure that she wanted no part of him.

Even if she told him so all over again.

Brandt paid for the drink, left it on the bar, and strode to his truck. He had a long drive ahead of him, one that probably would be a futile journey.

But he had to know for sure.

Brandon was raging. He'd never felt anything like the violence that filled his body. It was terrifying in its power. His dragon was screaming, demanding blood. He fought the shift with all his might, perspiration on his brow as he just barely kept his human form.

How could the dragon command the shift?

How could the dragon be in charge?

The transformation should be a voluntary one, a choice that he made. But this urge came from the depths of his guts and it was almost impossible to fight back. He ignored Matt's bragging and Dylan's erratic driving as he huddled in the back of the Jeep and fought to remain in human form.

He wasn't sure what would happen if he let himself shift shape, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be good. Would he be able to change back? Or would the monster inside own him forever?

It was going to ruin everything!

What had changed? Was it the eclipse? The firestorm? The exposed spots on his skin, where he had removed scales to compensate Chen, burned as if they were on fire.

What had happened to him? Why was his dragon so strong?

Matt had flung the Dragon Bone Powder into the wind, making trouble in response to Brandon's winning of Liz's attention. He could be childish like that, but this time Matt hadn't had any clue what he was doing. Brandon's body had responded with unexpected
vehemence to Matt's actions. It had taken everything he had to keep from shifting on the spot. He knew he hadn't been able to stop his eye from changing.

It was horrifying for his dragon to suddenly become so powerful and challenge him for control. He'd wanted to rip Matt's head off for being so stupid. He'd wanted to slam his buddy hard against the Jeep and hurt him, maybe rip open his throat. He'd wanted to breathe fire, make the Jeep explode, and ensure that everyone fled the scene.

Then he wanted to seize Liz and make love to her all night long.

Independent of what she thought of the matter.

That wasn't like Brandon. It was completely at odds with his own character and he didn't like the change one bit. His base desires had the upper hand. Brandon was glad he'd only had the one beer or he wouldn't have had a chance at controlling himself. He already knew that alcohol or drugs only diminished his ability to keep the dragon contained.

But if it remained this powerful, it was only a matter of time before he lost the battle—and the war. Even now, even as they drove away from Kane‘ohe, his grip on his human form was tenuous. He was angry, angrier than he'd been in a long while, but he knew the focus of his anger wasn't really Matt.

It was the burden of being a dragon shape shifter.

It was the knowledge that he was a monster and that there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

It was the legacy of his father, and he hated his father even more than usual as they drove back to the north shore of the island. The guys probably thought he was drunk as he writhed in the backseat. Brandon was content to let them think what they wanted. It was more important that he assert his control.

But even as he fought, he resented this change. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair! He would have his chance this week to make his name in the surfing world. He didn't need any distractions.

The only distraction he'd accept was the firestorm. There had been a few moments with Liz when he'd thought there might be something good about this dragon-shifter shit. There had been that electric kiss, the caress of the firestorm, the sense of optimism and hope. He'd had that sense of union with her, the kind of connection he'd always dreamed of having.

But it had all been trashed by his dragon's base urges.

Brandon couldn't escape what he was. He couldn't change what he was. And he wasn't sure he could live with what he was. That old familiar shadow engulfed him, almost burying him beneath an oppressive weight of despair. Once he'd been almost paralyzed by his hatred of his own truth, but Chen had helped him to manage his dragon. He'd almost forgotten how awful it could be.

Or maybe the dragon had been gathering strength while he focused on other things.

Brandon knew for sure that it was worse to taste
hope, then have it snatched away, than it was to never have had hope at all.

At least he had retrieved the silver vial from Matt. He rolled it between his fingers, his hands jammed into his pockets, as he struggled for control. Maybe it would help.

Although it didn't seem to.

It seemed like hours had passed before his dragon finally retreated with a snarl to the deep shadows of his mind. It couldn't have been that long, because they weren't in Hale‘iwa yet. Brandon closed his eyes, exhausted. There was no telling how long it would stay there or when it would resume the battle.

For the moment, Brandon would take the reprieve. He rolled to his back and stared at the starlit sky. His muscles were taut, his gut was churning, and his shirt was damp. He ached all over. His hands were clenched into fists.

He was angry, wanting to carve the dragon out of him and roast it slowly to death over a blazing fire.

But that was the violence of the dragon.

Brandon deliberately thought about Liz. He thought about her smile. He thought about her being his destined mate and his mouth went dry. It was strange to have anything in common with his father, but he knew that his dad must have felt this once for his mom. And that gave him a revelation.

After the divorce, his father had stepped away from the dragon side of his nature. He'd been living as a normal human man and working as a firefighter. The
time that Brandt had inadvertently revealed himself to Kay had been one of the last times that Brandon knew of his dad shifting shape.

Brandon blinked. The very fact that his dad had that much control over his dragon implied that the firestorm sparked a change.

Or the consummation of the firestorm had led to the change.

What if being
Pyr
was about satisfying the firestorm?

What if the firestorm could change everything?

What if consummating the firestorm meant that Brandon's dragon-shifter nature could be shed forever—or, at least, better controlled? This could be the opportunity that Chen had told him about! Chen had insisted that Brandon could weaken his dragon by the removal of the scales and that this could create the chance to banish his dragon forever. The old guy had been vague about the details, maybe because there was no way to predict when the firestorm would happen. The idea made perfect sense to Brandon.

What if his dragon had roared because it knew its days were numbered?

The idea was exciting. Even thinking about Liz had driven the dragon further into the shadows. This could be his chance to ditch it forever. Brandon had to find out the truth.

They were almost at Hale‘iwa, so he pretended to wake up. He let the guys razz him and accepted Matt's
apology for taking the vial, his thoughts churning all the while.

There
was
one good thing about his dragon nature. Courtesy of his keen senses, he could find Liz anywhere, even without knowing her last name or where she was staying. Having inhaled her scent, he could follow it wherever she went. That made his quest simpler.

It also reinforced his theory that being
Pyr
was about the firestorm.

Even better than that, Brandon could shift shape once everyone was asleep, fly back to Kane‘ohe, and track Liz to wherever she'd gone. He knew that the heat of the firestorm would light his path. He could find her before morning. He could have his answer soon and maybe evict the dragon for good.

He guessed that consummating the firestorm would do it.

Because now Brandon wanted more than just sex. And the firestorm had made “someday soon” become “right now.” Could the firestorm deliver? Could satisfying the firestorm limit his dragon's powers? That would make it possible for him to have a normal relationship with Liz and to be a man she might want to be with.

To have the future he desired.

That was a stronger incentive than anything else in the world.

When Brandon went back to Kane‘ohe tonight, he'd have to be careful. His dragon might feel threatened
by his choice and want to rumble one last time. He'd have to be ready for a fight with his own dark side.

But it was easy to walk into a fight knowing that he might win.

And that the prize could be everything he'd always wanted.

Liz was restless.

She told herself that events of the evening had rattled her, but she knew that wasn't it. She was all a-tingle, her skin dancing with awareness. She felt the rhythm of the ocean, the pulse of the earth, the caress of the air. And that was nothing compared to her feeling attuned to the throb of lava in the volcano on the island.

Liz had believed for years that her gift was gone, that she had given it away. She saw now that was an illusion. Moving to the concrete jungle had dulled her connection to the planet over the past years, making it possible for her to ignore her legacy.

To imagine that it was out of her life forever.

But there was still something about Hawai‘i that had awakened her.

Her Firedaughter powers were asserting themselves, and that made Liz uneasy. Things were never easy when her powers were present and accounted for.

Beyond that, having her powers back meant that she could be tested, as her mother had been.

She could fail, as her mother had.

Liz shivered and paced. Outside the window, the eclipse proceeded with steady grace, the sky darkening with every passing moment. Liz prowled her hotel room for far too long before finally going to bed. Once there, she tossed and turned in the darkness, afraid to sleep despite her exhaustion.

She was never going to sleep.

Liz got out of bed again and opened the sliding glass door. She stepped outside in her nightgown, noting that the eclipse was almost complete. The moon was turning red, casting a bloody glow over the world. It looked unreal.

So did the dragon flying in the night, his form silhouetted against the rusty red orb of the moon.

Liz took a breath. Her gift
was
back, then. She might as well make her peace with the change. She heard her mother's instruction in her thoughts again as she watched the dragon's progress.

There are beings who share this earth with us. They hide themselves from casual view. Mortals cannot see them. Only we, the daughters of Hecate, can lift the scales from our own eyes. We can see the dead. We can see the immortals. We can see the beings that are myths come to life and those descended from other realms. This is our sacred trust, to witness and say nothing. Leave these creatures be. But if they come to you for aid, give it willingly
.

Liz stared at the dragon, aching with longing for her mother.

The dragon passed the moon, his silhouette becoming
hard to discern against the night sky. Liz sighed and wished for more of her mother's wisdom. She wished she had paid more attention. She wished—but wishing accomplished nothing.

How would she survive if she were tested?

Liz closed her eyes and wished.

Then she relived every second of Brandon's marvelous kiss. Again.

Hours later, Liz was still wide-awake. She felt as if all of her senses were on overdrive. The perfume of the slightly crushed lei was almost overpoweringly sweet, even though it was over on the dresser. The warm breeze wafting through her open window carried the scent of salt and beach. It tempted her to go into the velvety night and explore the paradise that surrounded her. The sheets were so smooth that they were like silk beneath her skin.

But, worst of all, she still felt that simmering heat of unsatisfied desire. It wasn't like her to lie awake, yearning for sex, and it certainly wasn't like her to fantasize about a guy she barely knew, but Liz was consumed with thoughts of Brandon.

She couldn't stop replaying the memory of his scorching kiss. It was the one good thing that had happened to her and she couldn't leave the memory alone. If Liz had tried to imagine a perfect kiss, that would have been it. It had been romantic and sweet, passionate and demanding, too. She wanted another one, with all her heart and soul.

There was more to the connection between them than simple physical attraction. He had a mystery about him. She sensed that he had some powers, as well.

The soft crunch of approaching footsteps made her eyes fly open, and she sat up in bed. Liz crept to the sliding door to her room, the one she had left open to the ocean breeze. She saw the silhouette of a man on the path that wound through the bushes beyond the patio outside her room.

Liz might have been alarmed, but an orange glow lit her fingertips, surrounding her hand. It was just like the light she'd thought she'd seen when Brandon approached her on the beach. It sparked and burned, brightening with every passing moment, in defiance of every scientific law she'd ever learned.

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