Ember's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel

  Well, from the sharks.

  Liz swam faster. The sharks brushed against her repeatedly, as if they needed to touch her, as if they recognized that she was a woman in connection with the planet. Liz could have done without the affection.

  The dragon swooped low over her and breathed a long, slow stream of fire. It fried through the protection spell, and Liz knew she’d need more spell power to protect herself from this one’s evil intent. The flame scorched Liz’s back before she dove underwater. It was as if he were searing her on one side before roasting her thoroughly.

  She was halfway to the island. She kept moving forward with powerful strokes, even underwater. The school of juvenile hammerheads swirled around her, dark shadows with gleaming eyes. She could hear them murmuring to each other.

  Overhead, the shadow of the dragon disappeared. She lunged for the surface and gulped a deep breath, amazed at how much he had already increased the temperature of the water. He was turning in the sky over the island and coming back around for another attack. Liz swam with all her might, eyeing his position. She could see the lust in his eyes and the ferocious shine of his teeth. She saw him open his mouth to breathe fire again and swoop low. He moved fast.

  Liz dove deep and kicked hard. The dark shadow of the dragon passed overhead, his fire making the water boil above her. The hammerhead sharks dove deeper into the bay, surrounding her in a dark gray swirl. Were they protecting her? Or isolating her? Liz knew what her mother would have said, but those teeth made her wonder.

  Could dragons swim? Would he dive in after her next time and snatch her out of the ocean?

  Liz kept swimming. She wasn’t at all sure how she’d evade the dragon once she got to the island.

  Never mind how she’d get out of the ocean. It was too easy to imagine him compelling her to spend too long underwater, but she refused to panic at the prospect. She had to outsmart him, and that meant keeping calm. She should have looked to see if he was missing any scales.

  That was when she realized she hadn’t seen his shadow pass overhead again. Where had he gone? Liz cautiously broke the surface and took a breath, daring to look around. She stayed low, wondering why the dragon would have abandoned his attack.

  She quickly saw that he hadn’t had a choice. The yellow dragon was locked in combat with another dragon above and behind Liz, closer to the parking lot. The second dragon was a deep red, the red of Chinese lacquer. Each scale again looked as if it was edged in gold, his talons were gold, and he had golden horns. The two of them looked like jeweled treasures.

  But they were pounding the crap out of each other, which worked for Liz in a big way.

  The dragons locked claws and tumbled end over end through the sky. Their tails twined together and Liz understood that they were trying to overpower each other. Their teeth flashed as each snapped at the other, and their talons ripped into each other’s flesh. Liz saw more than one explosion of orange fire and a lot of blood flowing.

  It was all black and it sizzled when it dropped into the ocean, emitting a plume of steam.

  She remembered what Sloane had said and knew they were both Slayers.

  They must be fighting over her. It was not good news to be on the Must Have list for two different Slayers. It had to be because of the firestorm.

  Because of the baby. Liz’s hand curved over her belly protectively.

  No matter what his intentions were, the new Slayer was giving her a chance to escape, and Liz was going to use it.

  Liz swam the last distance to the island and pulled herself onto the dock. There was no one around, presumably because they were all still making repairs to the damaged equipment. She raised her hands and turned around in place, surrounding herself with a spiral of her mother’s favorite protection spell. It was resonant and powerful, a good spell to use in an emergency. It was also one that left the spellcaster exhausted.

  Liz would take dead tired over plain old dead any day.

  She finished the last flourish of the spell and felt its cocoon close around her. It would move with her, although it would fade in time. For the moment, she was as safe as she could be.

  She took one last look at the fighting pair and saw the red one get slammed hard by the new arrival. He grabbed the yellow one by the neck and shoved his face into the ocean, as if he’d forcibly hold him underwater.

  The yellow dragon thrashed, his powerful tail thumping his opponent. His wings beat. His claws tore. The red dragon held fast and breathed a stream of fire at his captive for good measure. The ocean boiled, the water turning black around the fighting pair.

  Liz heard a roar of outrage.

  And then the yellow dragon disappeared.

  The red one hovered over the surface of the water, his dark wings beating with slow power. He flew back and forth, examining the water, then turned gracefully to look at her.

  With that one look, Liz understood that he hadn’t been saving her—he’d been saving her for himself. He flew toward her with power and fury, his eyes shining with hatred and his talons extended.

  It was a little bit hard to believe in the efficacy of an invisible spell when a dragon had her in his sights.

  Liz spun around to run, not at all sure she could run fast enough.

  “You ready to listen yet?”

  The old-speak slid into Brandon’s thoughts, startling him as it always did. He stood up and looked out the windows of his prison, only to see Sloane standing in the path, almost exactly where Brandon had been attacked. The other Pyr had his arms folded across his chest and his expression was guarded.

  Brandon knew he was lucky that the other Pyr had come to him at all.

  “I’m sorry,” he replied in kind. “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

  The Apothecary nodded and scanned the front of the building. “Serious dragonsmoke barrier here. I’ll guess that permissions are set against you.”

  “Burns like acid.”

  Sloane nodded. “From this side, too.” He flicked a look at Brandon. “Find anything interesting in the lair?”

  Brandon gestured to the larger main room. “A spiral in sand, with two of my scales in the middle.” He frowned. “But I’ve given him three. I can’t find the last one.”

  Sloane wasn’t listening anymore. He was walking back and forth, his expression intent. “Who else was here?”

  “Some yellow Slayer. Blond guy. Blue eyes.”

  Sloane exhaled. “I thought I’d caught a whiff of Jorge in town, but it was so fleeting.” He scanned the area, nodding in thought, then looked at the sky.

  “I think they were going after Liz.”

  Sloane gave Brandon a stern glance. “Bad plan to leave your mate undefended.”

  Brandon exhaled with impatience. “Look, okay, I’ve messed up,” he said, his temper simmering. “But it would be better to help me than to lecture me. I know I was wrong. I need to fix it. I need to defend Liz!”

  “You need the Pyr, and you need your own dragon nature, and until you admit that, there’s nothing I can do to help you,” Sloane said flatly.

  To Brandon’s dismay, the Apothecary turned to walk away.

  “All right!” Brandon shouted out loud. He pounded on the window to get Sloane’s attention and was relieved when the other Pyr turned to glance over his shoulder.

  “Choose,” Sloane said softly, so softly that only Brandon could hear him.

  He stared at the floor. He feared he was lost himself. But he had to believe in the promise of the firestorm, and he had to believe in the future. He looked back at Sloane and met the other Pyr’s gaze steadily. He answered in old-speak and used the formal form of address, knowing he was asking for a lot in dragon terms. “Please defend Liz and my son.”

  Sloane surveyed him for a moment, then nodded. “I will do my best,” he replied in kind, then flung his hands into the air. There was a brilliant shimmer of blue as Sloane transformed to a sleek dragon. His scales were all the hues of tourmalines, shading from green to purple and back again o
ver his length. His claws were gold and his scales were tipped in gold. He could have been a jeweled ornament, but he flew with grace and breathed fire. He gave Brandon one last look—as if to emphasize that his best might not be good enough—then took flight over the trees and disappeared.

  Brandon looked around his prison, his frustration rising. He had to get free. He had to help Liz. He couldn’t get through the dragonsmoke barrier alone, but Chen had moved him through it.

  Brandon looked at the elaborately worked spiral of sand on the floor and had an idea. He deliberately walked across the spiral, dragging his feet and cutting a path through the carefully stacked sand furrows. He felt electricity around his feet and looked down to see red sparks flying from the sand each place he disturbed it.

  He started to kick it, making it fly into the air on every side. He didn’t understand the spell or its working, but he’d trash this spiral.

  If nothing else, it would annoy Chen and maybe prompt his return.

  That might give Brandon a chance.

  Chapter 10

  Liz took two steps before there was a flash of blue-green light.

  The light was strange, like colored lightning. It made all the hairs on her body stand up, and Liz shivered involuntarily at its sudden energy. It reminded Liz of the light in the car that had presaged the appearance of the mark on her arm, and she wasn’t very glad to see it again.

  When the light faded, there was a dark-haired guy standing where the dock attached to the shore. He looked Italian and was also gorgeous, but wasn’t Sloane. It was the guy who had been watching her and Brandon in Hale‘iwa from the porch on the other side of the road.

  Liz held her ground, hoping he was Pyr.

  He smiled with a serenity Liz didn’t share.

  He lifted his hand and she saw that he held a large quartz crystal. It was like one of her mom’s crystals, the ones she’d used for divining. He pointed it at the attacking dragon and a bolt of blue-green light fired from the end of the stone, like a laser.

  Liz blinked in surprise and turned to look.

  The red dragon was hit in the chest by the ray of light.

  He screamed in pain, as if he had been struck by lightning. He arched his back and bared his teeth. He lost the rhythm of flight, his wings apparently useless, and plummeted toward the ocean.

  Just when he should have splashed into the turquoise waters of the bay, he disappeared.

  Liz’s knees were shaking and she thought her heart was going to explode from beating so hard. She turned with some uncertainty to the dark-haired guy, who was considering his crystal with satisfaction. That smile still played over his lips and widened slightly when he looked at her.

  “I am Marco, although they call me the Sleeper,” he said, his voice deep. He spoke as if he had all the time in the world, the absolute opposite of what Liz was feeling.

  “You’re Pyr, too,” she guessed, hoping it was true.

  He nodded, his gaze sliding to the area where the other two dragons had recently been.

  “And they’re Slayers,” she guessed, remembering what Sloane had told her.

  He nodded again. “A particularly treacherous kind of Slayer. Those two are the only ones who can spontaneously manifest elsewhere.”

  “That’s how they disappeared, then.” Liz pushed her wet hair back from her face and realized she was chilled. “Where’d they go?”

  “Who can say?” Marco shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “They also can disguise their scents.”

  There was great news. Liz didn’t share his indifference. “They were targeting me. Why? Because of Brandon?”

  “Only the true Pyr have firestorms. Only true Pyr father more Pyr.” Marco met her gaze steadily. “Many Slayers believe that the weakest link in the process is the human mate.”

  That wasn’t the most reassuring thing Liz had heard.

  She heaved a sigh. “You were in Hale‘iwa. How did you get here?”

  Marco held out the crystal. “See the spark within it?”

  Liz peered into the stone. There was a blue-green light flickering in its core, like a glint of lightning held captive. She nodded, wondering what it was.

  “Darkfire,” Marco said, turning the stone in his hand as he watched the darkfire burn. “Trapped in this crystal. Obedient to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am the heir of the Cantor. Darkfire is my realm and responsibility.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It introduces unpredictability, challenges expectations, turns possibilities into reality.” Marco considered her. He didn’t blink, and his perusal was so steady that she had the feeling he could read her thoughts. “Like you, your presence here, your powers, and your being part of the firestorm. There is a better reason for the Slayers to target you. You are more than human, aren’t you?”

  Liz felt herself blush. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she lied.

  Marco nodded toward the burning dock by the parking lot. “I saw the wall of fire you created. Few humans can cast such spells.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  Marco smiled. “We do not need to talk about it. You know what you will have to do.” He gave her an intent look, one that reminded Liz of her grandmother’s glare, then once again turned his attention to his crystal.

  Liz wasn’t feeling quite so calm. Her spells had worked only in the very short term against the dragon. That two Slayers who could spontaneously manifest were somewhere in the world, looking to eliminate her and the child she hadn’t even believed she was carrying, was far from ideal. Her test was pending, and she’d had all the warning she would get. Never mind that the one Pyr who could defend her was in Hale‘iwa, talking to the old guy he called his friend, the guy Sloane had said was a Slayer.

  “He is snared,” Marco said softly, without glancing up.

  “Who?” Liz asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Brandon. You know this. You recognized the binding spell. It was cast by the red Slayer.”

  Liz’s heart sank. “Chen?”

  Marco nodded.

  “Then where’s Brandon? He went to talk to him.”

  Marco lifted one brow. “You also know that you are the only one who can aid him.”

  “Me? I don’t understand how I should help him. What about all of you Pyr? Don’t dragons deal with dragon spells?”

  “Not usually. In these times, we rely more on force and negotiation.” He smiled again with such tranquillity that Liz wanted to deck him. “Our dragon magic is mostly forgotten.”

  “Who would forget their own magic?”

  “Surely you cannot blame anyone for trying to forget when you have done the same?” Marco’s voice was silky.

  He knew. Liz glared at him, knowing that she must look fierce. He didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t understand what she’d seen. Some stranger wasn’t going to tell her what to do and what choices to make.

  If she listened to anyone, it would be Pele.

  She knew that a Firedaughter had the power to heal.

  She didn’t know how much of her powers she retained, despite Pele’s assurances. She could try to help Brandon and choke in the last minute, only getting them into more trouble.

  Marco smiled, as if he had heard her thoughts. “How apt he would find a Firedaughter,” he murmured. Before Liz could respond to that, he came to her side and offered the crystal to her. “Take this.”

  Liz recoiled. “I can’t use a crystal like that. They’re for divining and healing. They’re not weapons.”

  Marco was—predictably—untroubled by her reaction. “Darkfire is a kind of fire, thus it is in your realm, too.”

  “No. I don’t believe it….”

  “Then keep it in trust for me until your son is born.”

  “Why don’t you just keep it yourself?”

  “Because it wants to be with you.” He lifted it to his ear, as if listening, then nodded. “Yes. It does.”

 
Liz opened her mouth to protest, then saw the conviction in his dark eyes. And she recognized this logic, this kind of certainty in what had to be done, who had to do it, and how it had to be facilitated. Her mother had talked to her crystals, too, and listened to them. Liz considered the large crystal and knew that Marco was right—because the blue-green flame flickered with greater intensity when he offered her the stone.

  She should have it.

  She would need it.

  She put out her hand, and Marco smiled.

  No sooner had Liz accepted the weight of the crystal in her hand than Marco flung his hands into the sky. He leapt up and shifted shape with such grace that Liz’s breath was taken away. He became a dragon, too, a large and sleek one.

  He was who he said he was. Liz was reassured.

  His flight across Kane‘ohe Bay was filled with the same leisurely grace as his smile, and Liz felt a new conviction settle over her as she watched him go. The dragons were beautiful creatures—when they weren’t trying to kill her. Liz watched Marco soar high over the mountains, and accepted the truth.

  She had to embrace her powers, then use them to free Brandon. She had to believe once again. She had to move beyond the past. Her biggest obstacle was probably her fear of failure, but she’d conquered fear before. She would face a challenge similar to the one that had killed her mother, but she would need to win. It was the only way that the firestorm would fulfill its promise—to both of them.

  Marco disappeared from sight, and she had to hope that he was going to Brandon.

  Liz turned the crystal in her hand but saw no secrets lurking in its depths. Yet. She lifted it to her ear and listened but heard nothing.

  She put it in her purse.

  Liz guessed she’d be seeing Marco again, when her son was born—if not before.

  Her son. Her son would be a Pyr. She was going to be living at the intersection between the world of the Pyr and the world of humans for the foreseeable future.

  She’d better get used to it.

  “Well, there you are!” Maureen exclaimed from behind her. “You’re soaking wet.”

  “There wasn’t a shuttle…”