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.
He was thinking that there might be a small celebration in the shower and the Pyr would have to wait. But when Liz pulled back, he saw that the mark on her forearm had darkened, like a tattoo that had been shaded. She saw it, too, and her lips tightened as she looked down at it.
Then she met his gaze, her own filled with concern. “The test,” she whispered. “What if I fail?”
“You won’t,” Brandon said, hoping he was right as he urged her into the shower. “No time to celebrate, after all,” he said, then made a face.
As he’d hoped, Liz laughed. “We’ll just have to make up for it later.”
Fifteen minutes after she woke up, Liz was in her little black dress again. It had been hung up in the bathroom overnight to dry, along with her underwear, and it looked better than she’d expected was possible after that dunk in the ocean. Maybe someone had rinsed the salt water out of it. She had no shoes and her hair was clean but wet. She felt less than at her best when Brandon led her into the main room to meet the other Pyr.
They looked like normal men, just as Brandon did in his human form, except they were all particularly muscled and handsome—just as Brandon was. They also had a kind of intensity about them, and when they all turned to meet Liz, she felt as if she was being targeted by lasers. Their auras were universally radiant, lit by an inner fire.
They were passionate, then. Maybe quicker to anger. She would be careful with her words until she knew them better.
There were three women in the living room, as well, two sitting on the long couch and one pacing in front of the window. Their auras were in cool shades of blue and green and purple, making them good balances for their dragon partners. There were also a lot of toddlers and babies, which made Liz think about the promise of the firestorm.
What would be the fate of her child? That mark on her arm taunted her with unwelcome possibilities.
Sloane came to her with a smile. “We don’t mean to overwhelm you,” he said, and she noticed the ripple of purple in the golden glow of his aura. He was the healer and the Apothecary, and she could see his empathy in the aura that surrounded him. Her instinct from the beginning had been to trust him.
“I think it’s great that you’ve come to help,” Liz said. “I know that Brandon hasn’t been close to all of you.”
“The firestorm demands our support,” a tall man said. He had a softened British accent, perhaps from time spent outside of England. His hair was touched with silver at his temples and he was direct. His aura glowed red around him when he offered his hand. A radiant and reliable fire. Liz had the sense that he was protective and honorable. ??
?Erik Sorensson,” he said.
“Leader of the Pyr,” Sloane added softly.
Liz noticed that Erik shook both her hand and Brandon’s, so she assumed Brandon had never met him before. His grip was resolute and his hand warm.
“My partner, Eileen, and our daughter, Zoë,” Erik continued, gesturing to the woman on the couch who was rocking a dark-haired toddler. Eileen smiled and waved her fingertips in greeting. She touched her finger to her lips then, glancing down at the sleeping child.
Liz smiled. She’d bet the little girl hadn’t been sleeping for long.
“Niall Talbot,” said the blond man. He was shorter than the others, built more like a wrestler—and he was rocking a blond baby. “And my partner, Rox.”
That woman crossed the room with purpose. Her aura snapped with golden lights and the baby in her arms looked just like the one Niall was rocking. Twins, then. “Glad to meet you,” Rox said, then looked Brandon in the eye. “When this is over, I’d like to talk to you about the artist who did your tribals.”
“Okay.” Brandon appeared to be surprised by this, and Sloane smiled.
“Rox is a tattoo artist.” He pulled up his sleeve, displaying a large tattoo on his upper arm of a caduceus with two entangled dragons. Brandon’s eyes rounded in admiration. “This is nothing compared to the back piece she gave Niall.”
Niall smiled, but Rox’s gaze had fallen to the mark on Liz’s arm. She met Liz’s gaze with concern. “Does that mean something to you?”
Liz swallowed. “That my powers will be tested. Soon.”
A ripple of concern passed though the room. Erik’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “What are the stakes?” Erik asked.
“Liz’s mother died in her test,” Brandon said, and Liz saw that the Pyr didn’t like this news. It was a bad time to tell them that she was out of practice.
Maybe they were concerned because they knew it already.
“Quinn Tyrrell,” said a dark-haired man with eyes of striking blue. He was more muscled than the others and had a quiet intensity about him. Liz felt the strength in his grip and didn’t hide her relief that he had come.
“The Smith,” Sloane contributed. “And his mate, Sara.”
The petite woman stood up, leaving the couch to come to Liz’s side.
“Sara is the Seer,” Sloane explained. “She often has visions of prophecies or hidden realities that help us.”
“Works better when I’m pregnant,” Sara said ruefully, gesturing to the two dark-haired boys sleeping near her. The youngest boy started to fuss, and she went back to the couch to pick him up. Then she pulled a shawl over her shoulder and settled back to nurse the baby. Liz could see her aura dim as she focused on nourishing her son.
Quinn watched her, his love clear.
“You’re the one who fixes the scales of the Pyr,” Liz said, and Quinn met her gaze.
“Yes. That’s why I’ve come.” He flicked a glance at Brandon. “I’d like to see where those scales are missing.”
“Liz just healed the skin,” Brandon said with pride and lifted his shirt. Both the Apothecary and the Smith considered the unbound wounds. Liz could see that they were impressed.
“Here’s the thing,” Brandon continued. “My dragon has been getting stronger. Liz thinks it’s a binding spell cast by Chen. But it’s easier to control everything when she’s around. That has to be from the firestorm.”
“You mentioned the binding spell before,” Sloane said.
“But I broke the spell,” Brandon said. “When I was trapped by Chen, I trashed the spiral of sand.”
“No.” Liz shook her head. “You ruined the physical tool that Chen was using to build his spell, but the spell is still there.”
“I don’t understand,” Niall said. The others shook their heads and looked at Liz.
Erik smiled slightly, as if in apology. “There is magic in our kind, but much of the wisdom has been lost. We were nearly hunted to extinction and the price in lore has been high.”
Liz nodded in understanding of that. “Okay. Simply put, spellcasting doesn’t work like it does in the movies. I can’t say some magic words and wave my hand and make something happen. The universe doesn’t work like that.” The women didn’t seem to be surprised by this assertion.
“How does it work, then?” Sloane asked.
“The universe is filled with currents of energy. They each chart their own course and entangle with other energies and are influenced by our choices and our moods. Every option is out there somewhere, but some are stronger possibilities than others. Those have more energy associated with them, maybe because of consensus, and often their path will be the one that happens.”
“A soup of possibilities,” Eileen said, nodding. “And sometimes one flavor or spice is stronger than the others.”
“Depending what’s been mixed in and how much,” Brandon agreed. “I get it.”
“And choices probably affect the overall network,” Sara guessed.
Liz nodded. “So, when I cast a spell, I’m trying to influence which current comes to fruition. I’m adding my energy and my will to one particular option.”
“You put your weight behind it,” Sloane said.
“But there’s nothing saying that I’ll succeed,” Liz said. “I might back a loser. I might not be strong enough to influence the outcome or to swing the tide. There are also the choices of others affecting the shape of what’s to come.”
“Real-time voting,” Rox murmured.
“Continuous real-time voting,” Eileen agreed.
“My point is that by casting my energy into the network of spells, I create a connection to the vortex,” Liz continued. “One manifestation of that occurs if my target is a specific individual—my attempt to influence that person forges a link between us. The binding spell doesn’t just tie the victim to the spellcaster’s will—it makes a conduit between the spellcaster and the victim.”
Brandon folded his arms across his chest. “So Chen is trying to control me….”
“No,” Liz corrected. “Chen is trying to steal your life force to boost his own power.”
“Get out,” Brandon said with obvious shock.
“That’s how dragonsmoke works, too,” Sloane said with excitement. “It steals energy from its victim and feeds that strength back to the attacker.”
Erik nodded. “That’s why it weakens you so fast when it’s directed at you. It’s strengthening your opponent at the same time.”
Liz wasn’t surprised. Dragonsmoke, then, could act as a kind of binding spell. It was easier to explain this since they already had an experience of it. “In targeting you, Chen created a connection between the two of you. Your energy is linked to his because of the spell. There’s a bond there.”
“And it can transmit both ways,” Sloane said with a nod.
Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Does that mean the spell can turn back on him?’
Liz nodded. “In fact, that’s usually a sign that it’s working. There’s an old Wiccan saying that whatever you send out into the world comes back on you threefold. So, Chen targeted you with a malicious spell. My mother would say that his luck has been turning bad because that ill will is bouncing back on him.”
Sloane frowned. “But that also means the spell is working.”
“That’s right,” Liz agreed.
“Can’t we create a counterspell?” Brandon demanded, his frustration clear.
“It’s not that easy. Magic opens the door. It doesn’t fix things. It can create opportunities, though.”
“So, what’s my opportunity?”
Liz swallowed, knowing they weren’t going to like her suggestion. “You tug the line and pull him out of hiding, on your terms instead of his.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And you do it now, when he’s recovering from an injury. When he’s weak.”
The Pyr caught their breath collectively.
Brandon liked Liz’s idea right away. “That’s brilliant. Let’s do it!”
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Erik’s eyes lit with purpose. “This has potential,” he said, and started to pace the length of the room and back. “Let’s walk through it. We know that Chen is weakened right now, because he was wounded in his last attack.”
“He’s also been singing to the earth,” Quinn said. “Trying to cause destruction. Commanding an element is tiring.”
“Never mind the fights,” Brandon said. “Now’s the time to strike!”
“Wait a minute,” Erik said. “There’s still a binding spell, and it’s still linked to you. We need to ensure that you’re protected before we start this.”
Brandon was surprised by his concern. “I’ll get through it. I have incentive.”
Erik smiled at him, his expression paternal. “I’d like to make sure of that.”
“There’s still one more scale,” Liz said. “Right? Didn’t you give Chen three?”
“Jorge has broken two of them,” Brandon said. “The third one was at Chen’s lair when we left.”
“One of them will have gone back for it,” Quinn said. “It’s too useful to them.”
“They’ve been targeting dragonsmoke at the unprotected spots,” Brandon said. “How do I get scales there again?”
Quinn frowned. “I’m afraid that this isn’t normal. I’m not sure that I can repair the scales when there’s a spell like this.”
“I’m pretty sure the repair won’t take. Not yet, anyway,” Liz said, and Brandon liked that she was trying to find the solution. “Brandon said that the scales regenerate naturally, that the Pyr never have gaps in their armor.”
“That’s not quite true,” Sloane said. “When a Pyr falls in love, he loses a scale. That one never grows back.”
“That’s it!” Liz said with triumph. She was all sparkly again, lit with that inner fire. Brandon saw the others notice this and look at her in wonder. “Three scales! You gave three scales to Chen, but they haven’t grown back, right?”
“Right.” Brandon didn’t understand.
“So you must have lost three people you loved. That’s why they’re not growing back, and maybe that’s why you could even pull them out in the first place.”