O‘ahu, Hawai‘i—Friday, December 9, 2011
Despite the time of year, the Slayer Chen was not feeling festive. He sat in the beach bar on the north side of the island, sipping a glass of pineapple juice and watching his prey. Even though he had donned his favorite form, an elderly Chinese man, and the waitress had underestimated him, his mood was sour. The bar was decorated for Christmas, the walls thick with jingling bells, ribbons, and posters of that jolly old elf laughing in his Hawai‘ian shirt. This did absolutely nothing to lighten Chen’s mood.
His plan was not coming together and time was slipping away. The year of the dragon would begin on January 23, 2012, less than two months away, and was his chance to ensure his ascendancy over all the dragon shifters. It should be the year that Chen claimed his destiny.
Except that nothing was going right.
It burned that his own choices were at fault. When he had loosed the ancient force of darkfire from the crystal that had held it captive for centuries, he’d been thinking only of confounding the Pyr. He’d been thinking of his own advantage and been certain that the darkfire would provide the necessary distraction for him to move his plan forward.
Instead, the darkfire—as unpredictable as it was said to be—had ruined everything. His brand, the one he had used to mark other dragons and enslave Slayers to his will, had been first broken and then destroyed. He had been cheated of the harvest of Lorenzo, the one Pyr who was within a whisper of turning Slayer and the one who could have been a useful ally to buttress his affinity with water. Viv Jason had appeared, whatever she was, and vowed to deliver the Pyr Thorolf to Chen to fortify Chen’s affinity with air. But Viv was not keeping her promise, at least not so far, and the darkfire seemed to be on her side. Everything had gone wrong because of the release of the darkfire.
That Chen had been the one to free the darkfire in the first place was just salt in the wound.
He, Chen, should be the master of all dragon shifters. He was the strongest, the smartest, and the most ancient of all the dragon shifters. He was the one who still remembered dragon magic, and he was the most cunning. It was his destiny to rule, to be the lord of all. It was his right to command.
His plan would continue as designed, despite recent setbacks. He watched the young surfer ride his board to the beach and shout to his friends, and his anticipation rose.
This part of Chen’s scheme was proceeding well.
Yes, he would secure his hold over Brandon and that Pyr’s affinity to the elements of earth and water. Brandon was nearly in his thrall. The moon would be full on this night and there would be an eclipse. Some Pyr somewhere would have his firestorm, and the prickle of energy in Brandon’s vicinity gave Chen new hope.
Could he be so lucky that Brandon would be the one to have a firestorm?
If so, the tide could turn in Chen’s favor. The young dragon would be vulnerable in love, caught between his noble impulses and the dark urges that Chen had fed to him. It would be enough to push him over the edge, to make his dragon ascendant for good.
Which would put him in Chen’s thrall.
Chen, after all, already possessed three of Brandon’s scales. One more scale, and Brandon’s dragon would be Chen’s, courtesy of the old dragon magic. All of the young Pyr’s energy would be merged with Chen’s own—plus Brandon’s corpse would provide a new supply of Dragon Bone Powder. Chen was so close to claiming him completely, though the young dragon was too stupid to see what was happening to him.
Brandon even thought Chen was his friend. In fact, he thought Chen was the only one who understood the realities of his dragon nature, and he trusted Chen. Even if the Pyr came racing to the firestorm, Brandon wouldn’t believe anything they told him. They were allied with his father, after all, which was a crime in Brandon’s eyes.
That prospect of triumph cheered the ancient Slayer, as did the friendly wave that Brandon gave him as he entered the bar. “Hey, Chen! How’s it going?” He was still gregarious, easygoing, and confident—when his dragon was safely managed. Chen yearned for the vigor of his youth.
He’d have it soon.
Yes, Chen could almost smell the flicker of the firestorm’s flames, courtesy of his own greater powers. This Pyr would have his firestorm, and it would spark between him and his destined mate on this night.
Perfect!
“My old friend!” Chen replied, making sure he sounded feeble. He let his arm shake as he hailed the young dragon and was deliberately unsteady on his feet when he rose to greet him. He clutched Brandon’s strong hand like a lifeline. “I had to see you one last time,” he confessed, letting his tears rise.
“Are you sick, Chen?” Brandon slid into the chair opposite, his gaze bright with concern. “Was the trip from Beijing too hard for you? You know, you’ve got to take care of yourself, Chen.”
“I know. I know.” Chen patted the Pyr’s arm. “But I cannot change that I am old. It does me good to be here with you, even if the journey is long.” He raised a hand when Brandon might have protested. “Enough of the trials of an old man. I have a gift for you. I came to give it to you.”
He produced the silver vial of Dragon Bone Powder, the very last of his stash. On the one hand, Chen was reluctant to surrender it. On the other, he knew that doing so was a good investment in his plan. He offered the vial, his hand trembling by choice.
Brandon winced, then leaned over the table to whisper. “You want another trade? I’m not sure I can do it today.” His hand passed over his chest. “Each one hurts more, and I want to be in good shape for the competition.”
Ah, so the removal of the scales was troubling Brandon. Some of his dragon sense remained, which was useful to know. In the interest of the greater good of his plan, Chen chose to be gracious and cement their relationship.
Before he struck the young dragon down.
He knew he’d get the scale when the firestorm ignited.
“No, no,” Chen insisted. “This is a gift from me to you, because we have been friends for so long. I know you like it. It is important to me that you have it.” He placed the vial in Brandon’s hand and closed the young dragon’s fingers over it. He smiled, his heart beating a little faster at his growing sense of the approaching firestorm. “Use it well, my friend. I regret only that there is no more.”
“Wow, and you gave it to me. Thanks, Chen.”
Chen was surprised when the young dragon caught him in a tight hug and thumped his back.
Surprised, but satisfied that all was coming right.
A group of surfers who were passing the table congratulated Brandon on his wild-card slot in the current trio of competitions, and on his performance in the first two. Chen watched Brandon joke with his friends, the young Pyr’s confidence drawing the gaze of more than one woman. Brandon appeared to be oblivious to the young blonde who was openly admiring his muscled physique as he rolled the silver vial between his finger and thumb.
Chen smiled to himself. Brandon would be his to command shortly; then he would move forward with his plan and his destiny would be secured.
Chen could hardly wait.
“You want another juice or something to eat?” Brandon asked. “It’s the least I can do when you give me something like this.” He flashed the vial, then shoved it into his pocket.
“Just your company is good,” Chen said with a nod. “Tell me of your surfing today.”
Brandon grinned and started to explain the way the surf had broken that day, his enthusiasm and passion clear. Chen basked in his presence and the strength of his affinities to earth and water. Even undeveloped, they were potent.
In Chen’s grasp, they would ensure his victory.
The prospect made the old Slayer smile.
Liz felt as if she’d arrived in paradise.
There was no better place to make a fresh start.
Maureen had picked her up at the airport, as planned, and they were driving away from Honolulu. The warm temperature was a welcome change from the snow of New England. It amazed Liz that she’d shoveled her driveway for the cab that had taken her to the airport just fourteen hours before.
Instead of being tired from her trip, she felt invigorated.
Maureen had the windows open on her ancient turquoise Mercedes and the wind blowing through the car felt like a warm caress. The flowers in Liz’s lei, which Maureen had bought for her, were yellow plumeria and smelled like heaven.
This place might just be heaven.
Liz felt a tight knot within her loosening, and she knew the stress and tension of the past year was easing out of her body. She was excited at the possibility of making connections at this symposium to access the Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument and continue her research there. No wonder she felt so energized. Also, she was ditching a lot of garbage that had been wearing her down.
She smiled, recognizing a thought her mother would have expressed.
Maureen tossed Liz a smile. “Are you relaxing finally, or is it just jet lag that’s made you quiet?”
“Probably a combination of both, but it feels good.”
“That’s the magic of this place,” Maureen said. “It feels so good. Stay a week and you’ll never want to leave.”
Liz had a feeling it wouldn’t take a week to convince her to stay.
Maureen was in her fifties and a ferociously clever marine biologist who had been Liz’s mentor and doctoral adviser. She’d always been stern and somewhat daunting on the East Coast, but the woman who had picked up Liz at the airport could have been Maureen’s wilder twin sister. She’d cut her hair since coming here to continue her research two years before and had stopped coloring it. It blew around her face in flattering silver waves. She looked less careworn, though Liz imagined that she was still a perfectionist when it came to reports.
“It looks as if it suits you to be here,” Liz commented.
Maureen laughed. “They’ll take me off this island when I’m ashes in a jar and not one moment before.” She winked at Liz. “Since you and I are two of a kind, inviting you here for this seminar is part of my diabolical plan to tempt you here for good.”
Two of a kind? Liz supposed that she and Maureen had been similar. She certainly had always liked the older woman and intuitively trusted her. There was a lot that Maureen didn’t know about Liz, though, and Liz was going to keep it that way.
Liz saw the entry to the tunnel looming ahead, a porthole to darkness. She suddenly had a bad feeling, like someone walking over her grave, and shivered.
What was going on? She didn’t have a fear of darkness.
Maureen must have noticed Liz’s reaction because she hurried to reassure her. “It’s not a very long tunnel, and it’s the quickest way home. Next time I’ll take you around Diamond Head for the view. I figured you’d be tired today and quicker would be better.”
They were swallowed by darkness before Liz could answer, the headlights of the car illuminating the road ahead.
Firedaughter.
Liz’s eyes widened when she heard the whisper. It was a mere breath of sound, like a wisp of smoke on the wind, gone as soon as she perceived it. She couldn’t tell if it had been whispered in her ear or had resonated in her thoughts.
Either way, she hadn’t been called that in years.
Fourteen years.
She glanced at Maureen, who was apparently oblivious. “Did you hear that?” she asked, already guessing the answer.
“What? Oh! The engine has a little tick. It’s funny how it seems louder in the tunnels. It’s nothing to worry about.” Maureen smiled. “This car will be running long after both of us are gone.” She patted the steering wheel with affection.
But it wasn’t the engine Liz had heard.
It had been in her head. This was not good.
“Just another minute,” Maureen said cheerfully. “This old volcano is high but not that broad. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you didn’t like tunnels. Next time we’ll go around.”
Then Liz understood what was happening. No matter how extinct it was, this volcano had a connection to the lava of the Earth’s core. She was closer to the molten heart of the planet than she’d been in a while. Had something recognized her?
She looked around the car carefully, but she and Liz were alone.
Firedaughter. Liz really didn’t want to think about the last time she’d heard that word. Those were memories best forgotten.
To her relief, they shot into the sunlight a moment later and she could forget the whispered salutation. In fact, Liz gasped at her first view of the windward side of O‘ahu. It was gorgeous, all azure bays and lush greenery.
A Garden of Eden.
This, not a whisper in the dark, was real.
“So, you have a scheme to tempt me here for good?” Liz asked, encouraging Maureen to elaborate. Liz had hoped that she might find more opportunity in Hawai‘i than just a guest spot at a symposium. She was interested, though, in hearing why Maureen thought she should move. “What makes you think I’d leave New England?”
“Why not leave? You’ve no family, no husband, no boyfriend. You don’t even have a cat.”
Liz took the role of the devil’s advocate. “But it’s where I live. I have tenure.”
“It’s where you have lived,” Maureen countered with her usual pragmatism. “You could have tenure here, too. Might not take as long as you think.”
Tenure, and soon. It was almost too good to be true.
“Besides, New England’s not a place that continues to be good for you.”
Liz glanced at Maureen in surprise and was shocked to see a brilliant pink aura dancing around her friend. She hadn’t seen auras in years, and this one was as glorious as a tropical sunset. Liz blinked and the aura was gone.
No. It must have been an illusion. A trick of the light.
Shaken, she looked out the window, trying to hide her reaction from her observant friend. First the whisper, now a glimpse of an aura. How could her lost powers be reappearing? It made no sense. They’d been sacrificed forever.
And good riddance.
Liz forced herself to continue the conversation. “Why not?” she asked, sensing that Maureen was waiting for her reply.
“Rob, of course!”
Rob dumping her was the least of Liz’s concerns, but she didn’t correct Maureen.
Instead, she stole another sidelong glance. No aura. That was a relief. She must have imagined it.
Maureen, characteristically, wasn’t so easily put off when she had something to say, and for once Liz was glad of it. “What does it serve you, seeing him every day in the lab, knowing he’s having sex every night with that woman?” Her disgust was clear. “How can you possibly move on and find your own future if you stay in the same place?”
Liz knew that her failed relationship with Rob wasn’t an issue.
“I don’t think it’s a problem….”
“Nonsense!” Maureen shook a finger at Liz. “You’re just in denial.” She clicked her teeth in disapproval. “Only a man could imagine that you two could still work together as a research team after he did something like that.”
“But then, you told me not to date him in the first place,” Liz observed with a smile.
Maureen chuckled. “Well, I had been there and done that. Something about him reminded me of my ex in those early days.”
It was startling to have something else in common with Maureen. Liz realized she wouldn’t mind driving around Hawai‘i in a vintage Mercedes in twenty years. That thought made her smile.
Maureen turned off the road, then got out of the car to punch a code into a locked gate that secured a parking lot. Once back in the driver’s seat, she continued as if there’d been no interruption. “After the divorce, coming out here was the smartest thing I’ve ever done—never mind that it’s the only thing I’ve ever done for myself.” Maureen parked the car. She fixed Liz with a stern look and her eyes were the vivid blue that indicated she meant business. “It’s about time you did something for yourself, Liz. Do it sooner than I did.”
“Is that an order?”
Maureen grinned. “Maybe it should be.”
Liz smiled. “Maybe you won’t be surprised to find out that I accepted the invitation to the symposium, hoping that it might lead to a more permanent connection.”
Maureen smiled triumphantly. “Excellent! I’d been afraid I’d have to waste the week arguing this with you.” She winked. “Let the bastard miss you, in the lab at least.”
Liz felt like a fraud for letting Maureen believe that Rob was the reason behind her choice. On the other hand, Maureen could facilitate her move. There would be lots of time to sort out the truth—if she ever did confess it.
Liz glanced around with interest. “So, where are we?”
“Lilipuna Pier on Kane‘ohe Bay, where we get the shuttle boat to Coconut Island. You’re going to love it.” Maureen exuded enthusiasm. “The Institute is the only thing on the island—no cars are allowed—and you’re surrounded on all sides by a magnificent coral reef. Best location possible for research, even if it is a bit inconvenient. Look—here comes the shuttle boat, right on time. We’d better move it. They keep to schedule.”
Maureen got out of the car and Liz did the same, taking a deep breath of the ocean breeze. She loved the idea of a research lab that was remote from other people. Solitude was best for good work.
Liz stood by the car and surveyed the island, an outcropping of coral reef with research facilities perched on it. She heard the rumble of the sea, then felt the way her body tingled in response. She felt a familiar quickening, one that she’d managed to avoid for a long time, and was glad that the Institute was surrounded by water.
Water kept fire at bay.
She refused to think any more about that whisper.
Maureen continued to lecture as she hauled Liz’s bags out of the trunk. “It’s such a fabulous facility for marine research, and particularly good for the study of coral reefs. You, of all people, know that Hawai‘i’s reefs are younger than other Pacific reefs and—”
“Biologically distinct,” Liz concluded, taking refuge in the discussion of her work. “I’m looking forward to seeing more. There must be some great data collected here.”
Maureen shook her head as she slammed the trunk of the car. “There is data, but you’ll want to get out into the field for a change. Gather your own samples. See the reef with your own eyes. Here’s the chance to get away from the computer!”
Liz pretended to shudder in horror. “It’s safe in the lab. No need for sunscreen. No sharks.”
“Pshaw! With that innate sense of yours, you’d make ten times the progress if you got out into the reef. You’ll make your name here, Liz. Trust me.” Maureen glanced at Liz, expectant, but Liz just smiled.
She was not going to get out into the field. She was not going to immerse herself in the sensory influence of the earth and the elements. That would be a losing battle. She’d be casting circles again before she knew it.
Science was her refuge. Nice, logical, neat science. No magic or curses came with the occupation of marine biologist, and that worked for Liz. She’d get out to the preserve, then send a grad student diving to get her samples.
“I like the lab. It’s predictable and controllable.” Liz claimed her own bag from the older woman, knowing it was heavy, as they walked briskly toward the pier. “So, over to the island, then early to bed?”
Maureen grinned. “Better than that.” She checked her watch. “You’ll just have time to unpack a few things before all of us go out for dinner. The regulars want to get to know the new arrivals before the symposium starts, so I chose a local favorite for our first night out. The seafood there is terrific.”
Liz immediately tried to decline. “But I could use some sleep….”
“Nonsense! It’ll be fun.” Maureen cocked a finger at Liz. “That is an order.”
Liz stood on the dock and watched the shuttle boat draw steadily closer. She didn’t want to mingle with strangers, not tonight.
That whisper had spooked her.
Maureen put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll do fine,” she said with encouragement. “I know you’re not much of a party girl, but it will be fun. Order a drink when we get there and drink half of it before the food arrives.”
Liz laughed despite herself. “You want me to get drunk?”
“I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. If you need a little sip of something to make that happen, it won’t hurt anybody. I promise not to let you drive.”
The shuttle pulled into the dock and a young man leapt to the dock to tie it up. The engine kept running as he reached to give Maureen a hand. He flashed a warm smile at Liz, his gaze assessing in a way that Liz had almost forgotten. He offered his hand to help her, and Liz caught a glimpse of a deep purple aura around his fingers.
She blinked and it was gone.
Liz ignored his outstretched hand, then stepped into the boat herself. She stumbled a bit in her haste, and he caught her elbow to steady her.
“Wait till a rough day,” he said with a smile.
“Maybe I’ll stay ashore then,” Liz joked, sitting down quickly.
What if her gift was back?
How could that be? It had been absent for fourteen years. As much as Liz savored the renewed sensitivity to the elements surrounding her, she didn’t want the burden of that responsibility again—much less the conviction that she would be tested.
Science. That’s what she wanted. Not juju in the dark. No spells. No voices or auras or mystical doings in the night.
Maureen sat down beside her. “You just need to realize how attractive you are,” she whispered, misinterpreting Liz’s reaction. Liz chose to let her mentor think what she wanted. The engine roared and the shuttle pulled into the bay.
Liz kept her gaze fixed on the scenery. But she was afraid that something unusual was going on here. She wasn’t born of a family of witches for nothing. Maureen was right—Liz’s intuition was infallible.
And she was spooked.
The sun was setting over the ocean, painting the sky in rich shades of orange and indigo. Brandon had the vial from Chen in his pocket and his fingers couldn’t leave it alone. It was some kind of powerful aphrodisiac that his friend shared with him, although Brandon had no idea what was in it.
Just blowing some of it into the air made him ready to go all night long, and it seemed to have a power over women, too. It made them notice him, look at him, smile at him in a way that was completely addictive. He was astounded that Chen had shared the last of his stash with him, and determined not to waste it.
It was more than that, though. Recently things had started to come together for Brandon on the surfing front. He was meeting the right people at the right time, catching the right waves, being seen doing what he did well. He’d earned a wild-card slot in the Triple Crown this fall and had made a good showing in both of the first two competitions. He’d earned money and attention. If he nailed his performance at the last competition, he hoped for a place on the sponsor’s team.
This could be the beginning of everything. Despite all his hard work, Brandon intuitively attributed his recent successes to Chen.
Or maybe because of this weird powder. He didn’t want to question it much, just ride the wave to success.
This week would be his big chance: the third and final competition was the Pipeline Masters at ‘Ehukai Beach. The break there, the Banzai Pipeline, was the break Brandon knew the best. Tonight they were celebrating his recent success and burning off some adrenaline—but this was it. After tonight, he’d be training.
Hard.
The funny thing was that even a taste of success was changing Brandon’s plans. He wanted more—on every front. His ambition was stirring to life and, with it, a desire for more from relationships than casual sex. The notion that someday, one day, he’d commit to one woman was feeling a lot more like anytime now. He was ready to have it all.
As a result, Brandon was thinking he should give this vial of powder back to Chen. His old friend used it as some kind of general restorative, and Chen wasn’t looking that good. On the other hand, it had been a gift and he didn’t want to insult Chen by returning it.
Also, he didn’t want his luck to change just yet.
He wasn’t sure what to do, so he toyed with the silver vial, rolling it between his fingers in his pocket. He wasn’t going to use it, but he liked the weight of it in his pocket.
He and the guys had driven to Kane‘ohe on impulse, wanting to go somewhere other than the usual haunts. This restaurant, although it was part of a small chain, was very different from the casual bar of the same name they knew in Hale‘iwa.
This place was fancy. Serious. Romantic. There were families eating here and couples on dates, and the gardens surrounding the balconies seemed exotic. It was a little bit outside of town, away from the hustle and bustle. Brandon could hear fountains tinkling in the darkness and smell the damp greenery all around them. He could see the stars overhead, too.
So they were debating their choice in the parking lot.
“Let’s go to that sushi place,” Dylan said.
“Or the Chinese one we went to last time,” Matt said. “Huge servings there.”
“Awesome spring rolls, too,” Dylan agreed, turning back to the Jeep.
“You and your spring rolls,” Brandon teased. Dylan could eat more of them—and more hot sauce with them—than any four people he knew. He glanced at the restaurant, unable to shake a feeling that they should stay. It was like knowing that the next wave would be the one even before it rolled in, and he trusted his sense. “It looks good, though. We could call it research. You never know when you might have someone to impress.”
Dylan nodded, considering the entry. “The food does smell good.”
“Looks like a place women would like,” Matt ceded.
Brandon realized he was still toying with Chen’s silver vial and pulled it out of his pocket to look at it. He leaned back into the car and put the vial in the pocket of his hoodie, then straightened to find Dylan watching him.
“What’s that?”
Brandon shrugged. “Nothing important,” he lied.
Dylan’s eyes lit with curiosity. “It’s that stuff you get from that old Chinese guy, isn’t it? What’s in it?”
“It’s some medicine he takes. He asked me to keep it for him tonight, and I’ve got to take it to him in the morning.”
“Bullshit,” Dylan said, his gaze sliding to Brandon’s hoodie. “That’s some kind of fancy pillbox. Is that shit legal?”
“Well, it’s not mine so it doesn’t matter. I’m just doing him a favor.”
“Why?”
“He’s my friend. He’s been good to me.” Brandon jabbed Dylan in the shoulder and changed the subject. “Unlike you two.”
Matt growled, as if taking offense, and they mock boxed.
“Stay,” Brandon said with resolve.
Just then, four cars pulled into the parking lot. The guys turned as one, curious about any new arrivals, and watched the group spill out of their cars.
About half the people of this group were in their thirties, but as conservatively dressed as Brandon and his friends were not. They were also a lot more reserved. Many of them didn’t know each other, judging by their body language, and they exchanged a lot of polite smiles. More than half of them had glasses.
The rest of the group was older and had a scholarly look about them. There was one older woman with gray hair who seemed the most gregarious of them all; she was wearing a bright pink Hawai‘ian shirt and urging the others to hurry. She put her arm around a dark-haired woman who could have been the youngest of the group and shepherded her toward the restaurant.
Brandon noticed immediately how pretty that woman was. She was wearing a lei of yellow plumeria, black capris, and a white top. He guessed from the lei that she had just arrived on the island. The woman in pink must be trying to make her feel welcome. He smiled at that and noted that she needed a pair of flip-flops to even begin to blend in.
And a tan.
The younger woman was slim with curves in all the right places, taller than most, and had delicate hands. Her hair was long and thick, with just a hint of wave to it. He thought it might curl more in the island breezes. She walked with confidence but looked like she’d rather be elsewhere. She would be stunning when she got a bit more color, and he wondered whether she’d brought her bikini.
He wished she’d really smile.
“Fresh bait,” Matt teased, as crude as usual.
“Maybe we should stay,” Dylan said, watching them pass.
Brandon gave Matt a poke. Matt was a good surfer but a jerk with women. “Don’t be a pig. It’s not just about sex.”
Matt and Dylan laughed. “What is it about, then?” Dylan demanded.
Brandon shrugged, watching the woman. “I don’t know. Romance. There’s got to be more going on to make it special.”
“From thirty feet away, it’s about sex,” Matt concluded, then finished the beer he’d been drinking on the drive down. He was cocky, the way he usually was when he’d had a couple of beers and wanted to show off. Matt was competitive and he hadn’t scored a wild-card slot this year; Brandon had known that a few beers would prompt his friend to challenge him. It was predictable but not serious. “Tell you what—let’s square it off between sex and romance. Let’s see who gets results first.”
“What are you talking about?” Brandon asked, although he already could guess.
“Let’s go for your brunette. She can choose sex or romance. Whoever gets lucky doesn’t have to buy tomorrow night.” Matt stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
Though he’d expected a challenge, this one annoyed Brandon. He had been raised to respect women, and something about the brunette’s quiet manner made him feel particularly protective of her. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”
“Either that or you know you’re going to lose,” Matt countered with a grin.
Dylan started to laugh. “This place is more interesting than I’d thought.”
“Why don’t we just get something to eat?” Brandon suggested.
Matt waved off the idea. “Boring,” he said, dragging out the word. He watched the other party wait at the entry to the restaurant.
The older woman in pink bossed people around in a genial way. She took charge of the arrangements, from the sound of it, bossing around the hostess, as well. The brunette seemed amused and affectionate. She glanced over her shoulder, and Brandon impulsively smiled at her. She blushed and averted her gaze, apparently fascinated by the discussion about seating.
Brandon knew he wasn’t going to leave without learning more about her. He sensed her awareness of him and it made him smile.
“She’s not going to know what hit her,” Dylan commented.
“I’ll order her an extra-large mai tai,” Matt said with satisfaction and headed for the entrance. “On me. It’ll smooth the way.”
“This I’ve got to see,” Dylan said and continued after Matt.
“Wait a minute. You can’t just target her,” Brandon objected, striding after his friends. “That’s not right.”
“Right?” Matt seemed to be amused by this idea. “Look at her. She just got here. For all we know, I’m exactly what she wants on her vacation. All those mainland girls are looking for action.” When they got close to the entrance, Matt preened a bit and smiled at the brunette.
She was even prettier than Brandon had thought.
Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head, as if disinterested in Matt’s attention. Her gaze flicked to Brandon again and he rolled his eyes, as if despairing of his buddy.
She smiled then, a real smile, one that brightened her features and made her look young and even more attractive. Brandon’s heart thumped, and Dylan chuckled.
“You’re on,” Brandon murmured to Matt.
Brandon didn’t even know this woman, but he was annoyed by Matt’s behavior. He was going to defend her from his friend, whether she was ultimately interested in him or not.
It was just the right thing to do.
One fact was inescapable: the men were gorgeous in Hawai‘i. Liz couldn’t believe how many hunks she’d seen already. They were everywhere—at the beach, in town, on the streets, at this restaurant. There had to be one at every table—never mind the three in the parking lot. They were all tanned and handsome, completely built. She’d never been in a place so filled with incredibly sexy men.
In fact, everything was gorgeous. This restaurant was perfect and romantic. She noticed the couples dining together and didn’t doubt that this place had seen its share of proposals. The balcony extended into the open air, the lush velvet of the night pressing against the glow of soft candlelight. She could smell the plants growing in the gardens and hear the splash of fountains. It amazed her that they could drive from that perfect beach where they parked for the shuttle and in five minutes be surrounded by lush rain forest and comparative quiet. It was almost overwhelming to be so closely surrounded by the pulse of nature.
Maybe that was what was feeding her ability to see auras. They were getting brighter by the minute, the people in her group surrounded by glorious hues of light. It almost hurt Liz’s eyes to see so many auras, all throbbing and vibrating with energy. The other guests were nervous and their auras were agitated as a result. The table generated a light show that made her dizzy.
Liz glanced toward the bar where those three guys were having beers. Their auras were dimmer, more relaxed, and drew her gaze over and over again.
“Surfers,” Trudy confided with a sniff. She was a contemporary of Maureen’s, but apparently Hawai‘i hadn’t made her relax. Her dark hair was tightly pulled back and she spoke more quickly and decisively than the others. “Completely self-indulgent,” she added, then sipped her mineral water.
Liz looked at the auburn-haired guy again, the one who had smiled at her a couple of times already. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem predatory. She found his confidence appealing, and she sensed that he was comfortable in his own skin. She liked the steady hum of indigo that was his aura, despite her distrust of the reappearance of those auras. Her interpretation of them was intuitive. This aura told her that he would be loyal and dependable.
She didn’t want to use her ability to see auras to judge people, but couldn’t shake the impression.
His dark-haired friend had an aura of pulsing green. He, too, was loyal to his friends, but competitive and cocky.
He was like Rob.
The third guy, the blond one, had an aura like golden honey. He’d be a good friend, easy to spend time with, relaxed but unambitious. He was the kind of guy who could do nothing with his life and not worry about it.
No, the auburn-haired guy was the keeper. There was a tattoo on his chest, although Liz couldn’t fully see what it was, and she glimpsed part of another on his arm. He was drinking beer, chatting with his friends. She liked the rich sound of his laughter. His eyes twinkled when he caught her looking, and he toasted her with his beer before he took a swig.
Probably thinking that he knew what she was thinking. Liz developed a fascination with the menu, fighting a smile. Wouldn’t he be surprised if she confessed to comparing auras?
“The shrimp is good,” Maureen said, as dictatorial and kind as ever. “They’re farmed locally.”
Before Liz could answer, the waitress put a large drink in front of her. “With the gentleman’s compliments,” she said, gesturing to the dark-haired surfer. His smile had a roguish tinge that confirmed her earlier conclusions.
She wasn’t interested in just sex.
She told herself that she would have known the kind of guy he was even without being able to see the auras.
Liz pushed the glass away with her fingertips. “Thanks, but no. Please give the gentleman my thanks.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s the jumbo mai tai. House specialty.”
“I’d just like a glass of white wine, please.”
The waitress shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She picked up the drink and the guy at the bar scowled. Liz peeked and the auburn-haired guy was debating something with his blond friend, as if he hadn’t even noticed. He turned and gestured to the sky beyond the roof over the balcony and she admired the breadth of his shoulders, the unruly tangle of his hair. It was long, long enough to tempt her to touch it. And that tan…
She didn’t know anything about him and she wasn’t going to rely on auras. That part of her life was over. Liz took a gulp of her wine as soon as it arrived.
She finished the glass before the food arrived, and Maureen ordered her another before she could argue.
It tasted even better than the first one. The auras got brighter, but the wine made Liz worry less about them.
She told herself that it was the wine that made her feel vital and excited, but deep in her heart, she feared otherwise.
She feared that her powers were back.
Even if she didn’t understand why or how.