“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.
Chapter 12
The 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 s
hine 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.