The person Brandon found first wasn’t Chen.
It was Kira.
She shouted at him as soon as he got out of the truck in Hale‘iwa, and he could tell by the sparkle in her eyes that she was excited about something. Kira was of mixed descent, her skin tanned to a rich gold and her hair almost black. She looked Hawaiian from a distance, but her eyes were an unexpectedly clear green. She was petite and curvy, always wearing a bright bikini and floral-print sarong of her own design. She could rip a wave like no woman Brandon had ever seen surf. Her shop in Sunset Beach was always busy, but never so busy that she wouldn’t close up and hit the beach for a couple of hours.
She’d been one of the first locals here to befriend him, and just seeing her easy smile made him feel less jangled and confused. Kira was part of his human life. Maybe if he focused on that side of his life and ignored the dragon, it would leave him alone.
He heard it laugh deep in his mind at the very idea.
“What’s up?” Brandon asked. “You look happy.”
“I had an idea. Remember that wet suit you tried out a month back?”
Brandon nodded. Kira had wanted to get into the business of outfitting surfers for a while. It made sense, as they were the majority of her customers, and their gear would be more profitable for her to sell than just the casual clothes she currently designed.
“The one that was a bit tight in the shoulders?” It had been a great wet suit and he could have used a new one, but that one had restricted his shoulders too much. He wouldn’t be able to paddle properly in it, and that was too high a price to pay, even for a deal on a wet suit.
“Right. Well, I marked up that one and had the supplier make a modified version.” She flicked a quick glance at him. “Custom, just for you.”
Brandon stopped and stared at her. “No way. You shouldn’t have spent the money, Kira.”
“It’s an investment.” Kira’s eyes were dancing at Brandon’s confusion. “Want to try it on?”
Brandon held up his hands. “But, Kira, you can’t do this for me because I can’t pay you for it. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Oh yes, you can pay me back. That’s my idea!”
Brandon spread his hands, inviting her explanation.
“You’re going to surf the Pipe, aren’t you? You scored that wild-card slot?”
Brandon nodded. “I did, by some miracle.”
“Not a miracle. You’re natural and one of the best, too. Everybody knows it, and it’s about time someone gave you a break.” Kira kept talking, the words spilling from her lips so fast that Brandon wondered why she was worried. “It’s the wet suit you liked—short legs, short sleeves. Yellow with black.” She stopped and grinned. “And I just happened to have my new logo silk-screened onto the front of the wet suit in red.”
Brandon laughed, understanding. “So when I compete, you get advertising.”
“If you win anything, it will be amazing.” She leaned closer. “Nail the Pipe and you can have anything from me.” The warmth in her eyes made Brandon uncomfortable. He had a feeling she wasn’t just talking about wet suits.
“One deal at a time, Kira.” He eyed the surf. “The waves are so rough, they might have to cancel.”
“No,” she said with such conviction that he glanced at her in surprise. “Look, I was practically born on the beach, and I know the Banzai Pipeline better than I know myself. I feel that break right in my blood. I know what it’s going to do when.”
“Kira, that doesn’t make any sense.”
Kira was referring to the specific wave break where the last contest in the Triple Crown would be held. The Banzai Pipeline was known all over the world for being magnificent and fierce. On this section of coast, the shape of the coral reef compelled the surf to not just break by curling over itself, but to create a hollow tube. In addition, the tube was unusually large, enough that a good surfer could surf inside the tube, a feat called barreling.
Of course, if the surfer made a mistake, he or she would be pummeled into the coral reef. Broken boards and broken limbs were common on the Pipe, and, on average, one surfer a year died trying to ride that wave.
In his time on O‘ahu, Brandon had heard his share of superstitions and convictions about that break. He’d never expected such whimsy from Kira.
“Sure it does,” she insisted, marching toward her yellow Volkswagen bug with determination. It was one of the old ones and a convertible, too. “Didn’t you know that my mom was one of the first women to surf the Pipe?” Brandon shook his head, but Kira nodded. “She only ever barreled it once, and she said it changed her life.”
“I can believe it,” Brandon said. “It changed mine.” There was something magical about riding inside the curl of that wave, surrounded by blue and green water and buffeted by the sound of roaring water. No matter how many times Brandon did it, he felt euphoric afterward. It was the ultimate natural high.
“Probably not in the same way,” Kira said with a wink. “She said it was amazing, that it either lasted ten seconds or ten hours.”
Brandon smiled. The sense of being out of time had been strong for him, too.
“And she said that everything came together in a kind of perfect sense.”
Brandon nodded agreement. The Pipe was particularly special to him because inside that wave was the one place his dragon shut right up.
“And she knew she was pregnant, right then.”
He stared at Kira. “Whoa.”
Kira nodded as she unlocked her car. “She came right out of the ocean and went for her test. It was so early that they had to do it twice to make sure.” She pulled out something yellow, looked at Brandon, then shook out the wet suit. “She always called me the Banzai Baby.”
The logo on the wet suit bore the words BANZAI BABY with a lightning bolt underscoring them. It blazed right across the chest and looked awesome.
“Great logo,” Brandon said, admiring the wet suit. Kira went through the modifications to the design with him, showing how she’d added to it where he had found it restrictive and trimmed it where he’d thought it gaped. “It looks fantastic.”
“So, will you?” She looked up at him with shining eyes, her expression making Brandon think that maybe she wanted more than this favor from him.
But then, he’d thought that before.
He didn’t want to let her down, though. He’d wear her logo only if he thought he was going to kick ass, and that depended on when the competition would be held. “They’re not competing today, are they? The beach is too quiet.”
“No, it’ll be the day after tomorrow.”
“You can’t know that.” The competitions were scheduled for twelve-day periods, with the actual surfing on three days. The hope was that there would be three days of good curls out of the twelve, and the decision was made by seven in the morning each day.
“I tell you, I know the Pipe. Tomorrow the other breaks will be good, and the Pipe will be better than today. It won’t be optimal until Tuesday, though. Trust me.”
Brandon looked at Kira and realized he did trust her instincts. She’d been calling good waves for as long as he’d known her. In fact, he’d teased her more than once that she must have a crystal ball to determine in advance which days her shop should be closed.
So he had three days to get it together. He pursed his lips, thinking.
Kira leaned closer, looking expectant. “Try it on.”
Brandon glanced up and down the road, his own excitement rising. He had a sponsor. He had a wild-card slot. He had his chance. It was time for the dragon to get slammed back into the cave and locked in there for a good. He’d have to do a parking-lot change, but he was used to that. “You got a towel?”
Kira rolled her eyes. “You think I’m a grom or something?”
Brandon laughed at the idea of anyone considering her a beginner. He knotted her towel around his waist and slipped out of his shorts, pulling up the wet suit. It fit like it was made for him. He supposed that was because it had been. He peeled off the towel and tugged the wet suit over his shoulders, reaching back to pull up the zipper.
“Perfect,” he said, flexing and stretching. He bent and turned, feeling no restriction at all. It was like a second skin; he was amazed at how well it fit. Two women hung out the windows of a passing car and wolf-whistled at him.
Kira sighed with an admiration that wasn’t completely a joke. “Oh yeah.”
“Thanks, Kira. I’ll try to do you proud.” Brandon changed back out of the suit, then gave her a quick hug. “Have you seen Matt and Dylan?”
Kira pointed down the road. “They headed for ‘Ehukai Beach. You want a ride?”
The temptation was too much. “Will you stop at my place so I can grab a board from my quiver?” There was always a chance that the surf might become better and he could train.
“Optimist!” she accused, and he grinned.
“Gotta be sure I win in my new suit.”
But the truth was that Brandon needed every possible moment to get control over his dragon again. After all, everything was at stake.
Liz wasn’t exactly calm as she drove through the tunnel toward Honolulu.
She didn’t want to hear any whispers or see any auras, and she was worried about what might happen after that. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel as the shadow of the tunnel entry fell over the car.
She felt swallowed in darkness.
It took only a moment for her awareness of the power surrounding her to become sharper and clearer. She sensed the rhythm of the earth, the slow erosion of rock, the creeping movement of tectonic plates beneath the island. The shadows were filled with possibilities, but Liz kept her gaze locked on the road ahead. The molten core of the Earth was close here, which must be at least part of the reason her powers had been reawakened.
She was not going to think about consequences.
Liz stared at the bright light that indicated the exit from the tunnel, wishing for the moments to hurry. She was almost there. She could ignore the prickling of her skin, the feeling of electricity all around her, and the vibration of the Earth’s forces.
The brilliant flash of blue-green light within the car made her gasp.
It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, making her hope that she had imagined it.
But she wasn’t imagining the burning sensation on her right arm.
Liz glanced down and stared in horror. There was a mark on the back of her right forearm. It was a symbol, an ancient symbol, emblazoned on her skin like a brand. It glowed briefly with that faint blue-green light, then became as mundane as a black-ink tattoo.
Liz shuddered and swallowed, her panic rising. She knew it wouldn’t scrub off or disappear. The symbol was a warning to prepare herself, that her time of trial was coming soon.
One more time, Liz wished she’d learned more from her mother while she’d had the chance. It wasn’t very reassuring that her mother had known so much more than Liz and she had still failed the test.
Liz took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel, reminding herself that she’d been acing exams for years.
Even if the stakes hadn’t been quite so high.
Chen crawled through a deadened fissure of lava in his salamander form, too tired to hurry toward the surface. He acknowledged that there were successes and failures thus far in his plan. He’d really made his mark on O‘ahu with the earthquake he’d summoned. He felt a measure of pride in the havoc that he’d wreaked on the pitiful human population.
They had no idea how much worse it would be.
He’d been deep in the earth, singing songs of power to awaken the old volcano Ko‘olau. She was stirring, responding to his chants, awakening. The earthquake had been a bonus, an extra reaction to his chant while Ko‘olau seethed.
Even in triumph, though, Chen was exhausted. He had to take a break to restore himself; then he would continue to coax Ko‘olau’s anger. He smiled, anticipating the terror that a massive eruption of this volcano would create, since most assumed it to be extinct.
He also liked that it was unclear even to him where the eruption would be. The Ko‘olau range ran down the northeastern edge of the island, the original crater long since destroyed by erosion. There were tens of thousands of ancient cracks and fissures, all closed over on the surface. When the molten lava rose hot and fast within the volcano, the weakest barriers would collapse first. The eruption could occur anywhere from Hale‘iwa to Diamond Head, and, with any luck, it would be simultaneous at several locations. Chen enjoyed the element of surprise in his plan, and hoped for the worst.
On a more personal level, he also was encouraged by the way that the earthquake had compelled Brandon to shift shape. He’d felt the young Pyr’s involuntary transformation as surely as if the boy had been standing beside him, the abrupt change giving Chen a little surge of power even on the other side of the island.
The young Pyr was nearly in his thrall. The promise of completely claiming the dragon shifter delighted him with its possibilities. Not only would he claim Brandon’s power and affinities, but he’d be able to command him like a slave for as long as he survived.
One more scale would do it. The number four was potent in Chen’s dragon magic. Four elements. Four cardinal directions. Four scales.
It would be ideal if Brandon’s capitulation was what made Ko‘olau’s eruption inevitable; Brandon’s affinity was with the earth, after all. What if Chen could command him to participate in the song to rile Ko‘olau? Chen loved that idea as soon as he’d had it. As a coup de grâce, he’d be able to ensure the young Pyr’s complete loss of spirit if Brandon believed himself and his dragon responsible for destroying O‘ahu—the island he loved—forever.
If the Pyr killed himself out of remorse or died of anguish, Chen would be able to replenish his supply of Dragon Bone Powder.
It was win-win.
Chen didn’t trust the darkfire, however. That strange blue-green flame had flickered in Chen’s thoughts when Brandon’s firestorm sparked, almost as if it was a trick of the light caused by the eclipse. Chen knew better. The darkfire was going to mess with Chen’s plans. He expected that Erik Sorensson and the other Pyr would try to mess with his plans, on top of it all.
He doubted, after all, that he was the only one to have felt Brandon’s firestorm and involuntary shift. No. Erik Sorensson would meddle.
Chen would have to be vigilant to succeed.
Victory was so very close.
It was early afternoon by the time Chen shifted shape deep in the central valley of O‘ahu. Unfortunately, the fissure he’d chosen had led him to the surface farther away from Hale‘iwa than he’d hoped. He blamed his exhaustion for his mistake. Once again he took the form of an elderly Chinese man, but he was tired enough that he didn’t have to pretend to lean heavily on his cane. He began to walk down the road to Hale‘iwa, where he was sure he would find Brandon again.
When the old turquoise Mercedes pulled over and the young woman at the wheel offered him a ride, Chen’s heart leapt with delight. It hadn’t been his exhaustion that had led him to this place.
It had been destiny.
Because this woman was none other than Brandon’s human mate.
Chen was so delighted that he even let her help him into the front passenger’s seat.
That was when he realized that she was no ordinary mortal. As soon as she touched his arm, he felt the power of her sorcery. A Firedaughter! He had not met one in centuries. This was the curse of the darkfire; this was the challenge it had cast his way.
But did she understand her gifts? Was she in command of them? She had not cloaked herself in a web of protective spells, which gave Chen hope. He settled into the car and closed his eyes, the better to assess her powers.
The fact was that if he seized a Pyr and a Firedaughter, claiming the powers of both, he would be invincible.
On one hand, Liz was glad that she’d stopped for the old Chinese man. She wasn’t sure how he would have made it anywhere, since he appeared to be so frail. He was visibly relieved once she got him into the car. It wouldn’t hurt to have some human company, not with her thoughts racing.
And that mark on her arm.
On the other hand, there was something about the old man that gave her the creeps. He didn’t have an aura, which should have reassured her, but instead it troubled her. She had a strange sense that he wasn’t what he seemed, except she couldn’t figure out what else he could be other than a frail elderly man.
So she wasn’t very disappointed when he dozed off as soon as he got into the car. Liz focused on reality and the beautiful scenery. The road was pretty much empty, mountains rising on the right. She’d passed the Dole pineapple plantation and could still see fields of pineapples on either side of the road. The Mercedes didn’t have air-conditioning, but they didn’t need it. Liz just rolled down all the windows, letting the wind blow through the car.
She drove and listened to the old man snoring gently. She felt the tension ease out of her. Maybe she’d take the long way back to Kane‘ohe. Maybe everything would be just fine.
Her companion stirred after a few minutes and rolled up his window. She turned to find him smiling at her.
“Better?”
“Much better.” He bowed his head formally. “I thank you.”
Liz couldn’t understand why he’d been walking in a comparatively remote area. Where had he come from? “Do you live here? Or in Hale‘iwa?”
“I visit Hale‘iwa,” he said, speaking carefully as if English wasn’t his first language. “I come from my home.”
“Around here?”
He shook his head. “Far away. Asia.”
“So you don’t live on the island.” Liz smiled. Nice, polite chitchat suited her perfectly. “I don’t, either.”
“Ah.” His eyes lit. “Do you come for the dragon, too?”
Liz was so surprised that the car swerved. “Dragon?”
The old man nodded. “I come for the dragon.” He spoke with such conviction that Liz felt a shudder run down her spine. There was a darkness underlying his words.
A threat. As if he hunted the dragon.
This old man? Liz forced herself to be practical. “You’ve seen a dragon here?” she asked lightly. “You mean like an iguana? A dragon lizard?”
He cast her a sly glance, one that chilled her blood. “A real dragon. He lives here, makes fire and smoke.” He nodded. “In my country, dragons make rain. They make earthquakes. They respond in anger when we do not make offerings.” He tapped on his knee. “I think it is the same here.”
Liz couldn’t deny her sense that he was lying to her—and maybe even toying with her. But why? Who was he, really?
“Have you actually seen a dragon here?”
He grinned, then held up a crooked finger. “There is just one. Black, black as night, with eyes of red. Like lava.” He nodded. “Very powerful dragon.”
Liz’s bad feeling multiplied a hundred times. This old man had no good plans for the dragon—and if the dragon was the good guy, this must be the bad guy. Her instincts were screaming at her to run away from this old man, which logically made no sense. She could beat him in a fight, easily.
Even without using her powers.
She kept her tone light. “Where do you see this dragon?”
“I see him when he chooses to let me see him.” The old man turned to face her, his expression intent. “You understand that this is a magical beast. He is sometimes a dragon, sometimes a man.”
He sounded so much like her mother that Liz was surprised. “A Pyr,” she whispered, without meaning to do so.
The old man shrugged, apparently not recognizing the word. “The people here, they call him a kupua. Son of a goddess, so he can become something other than a man. As a man, he is handsome and strong, young. As a dragon, he breathes the fire of his mother and has her temper.”
Liz’s heart leapt to her throat. “What goddess?”
The old man smiled. “Pele,” he said, gesturing to the hills. “She who made these lands.”
Pele, Liz knew, was the goddess of the volcanoes, a deity responsible for lava and eruptions, who had a temper to match the volatility of her creations.
The old man’s eyes glittered as he looked at her, and Liz felt exposed. “Pele has dragon sons and Firedaughters.” As Liz stared at him in shock, he laughed.
He couldn’t really know what she was, could he?
Liz pretended not to understand and talked about the dragon. “Do you know where to find this kupua dragon?”
“I have seen him in Hale‘iwa, so I wait there. I come to pay homage to him, to make offerings, as people here do not.” He shook his head. “But this time, I came too late. The dragon is angry.”
Liz fixed her gaze on the road ahead. “You think this dragon caused the earthquake.”
“It is what dragons do. They have power and they use it.” He leaned toward Liz, his gaze bright. “They teach us with their lessons.” He hissed the last word with unexpected force.
Lessons like earthquakes?
“That’s a pretty hard lesson.”
The old man shrugged. “And yet people never change. So there will be more lessons. The dragon does not relent in his teaching, whether we listen or not. This one, he could call to his mother, who could do more than make the earth shake.”
Volcanic eruptions? Liz glanced at the mountains. She was sure she’d read that the volcanoes on O‘ahu were extinct.
Liz frowned, unable to accept that even if Brandon was a dragon shape shifter, he’d been responsible for the damage of this morning. It wasn’t in his character—or in his aura—to willfully hurt anyone.
Liz slanted a glance at her companion and trusted her instinct to not tell him that she’d seen a dragon, too. There was something that made her wary, maybe his apparent conviction that people deserved to experience the earthquake. He seemed oddly satisfied with the dragon’s act of retaliation.
Still, he might know more that was useful.
“So, what are the offerings a dragon wants?” she asked, as if indulging him.
“You must offer to the dragon whatever is most precious to you. He will know if you lie. Dragons know all.” He tapped his chest. “They see to the heart. This is what makes them powerful—and dangerous.”
Had Brandon seen to her heart? Liz had a feeling that he had.
Maybe he had recognized that they both had secrets and burdens to bear.
She concentrated on her driving for a few minutes. As they got closer to the coast, there was more traffic, as well as more cars parked on the shoulder. She followed the old man’s directions into the town of Hale‘iwa and was charmed by its easy atmosphere.
“I stay there,” the old man said, indicating where she could let him out. There were a number of houses clustered behind the clothing stores and galleries. Liz noticed a grocery store and made note of a gas station down the way. She might need to fill up before she headed back. There were also a lot of cars parallel parked along the road.
Most of the cars had roof racks with surfboards, and there were surfboards leaning against railings on porches. There was no parking available near the spot the old man wanted to stop, so Liz simply stopped and put on her hazard lights. He didn’t look as if he could walk much farther. She had to hope that the town was quiet enough that she wouldn’t get rear-ended. She got out and went around the car to help the older man. She was her mother’s daughter, as much as she might have liked to change that.
“Where do you find the dragon?” she asked again when he was on his feet, and he smiled up at her. Again she felt conflicted by her reaction. He appeared to be so benign, but she wanted to run away from him as quickly as possible.
Where was his aura?
Was he a ghost? One of the spirits from other realms? According to locals, Hawai‘i was rumored to be filled with ghosts.
“You do not.” He touched his chest. “You wish to see him. You make him offerings. And if you are lucky, the dragon will hear the secret of your heart and find you.” He smiled, then bowed formally before her, bracing himself on his cane. “I thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Are you okay from here?”
“I am strong,” he said, then leaned on his cane so heavily that he undermined his own assertion. Liz watched him go a little way, not at all sure that he could manage on his own. She felt both protective of this older man and deeply suspicious of him. Which impulse was the right one?
He pivoted and glanced back at her just then, his expression so mischievous that Liz halfway imagined he’d heard her thoughts. Was he laughing at her? “But today, if I wished to find the dragon, I would look on ‘Ehukai Beach.”
“‘Ehukai Beach,” Liz echoed.
The old man nodded and turned his back on her. Liz watched him hobble away, humming quietly. He seemed oddly satisfied with himself, although she couldn’t imagine why. Maybe he was just glad to be close to his accommodation.
Okay, ‘Ehukai Beach. She got back into the car and pulled up her map. It was only a couple of miles away. When she glanced at the street, there was no sign of the older man.
Funny that he had disappeared just the way the dragon had.
Maybe he was stronger than he’d looked.
Brandon wasn’t as reassured by watching the ocean waves as he’d expected to be.
Usually the sight of the ocean’s power soothed his dragon, just as riding the waves kept him focused on his human side. It was as if the rhythm of the rolling waves lulled his dragon to sleep.
Today was exactly the opposite. The waves were wild, rising high and crashing hard on the coral reef. To Brandon’s dismay, his dragon seemed to feed on that energy. He felt an exhilaration, a gleeful joy in the violence of the sea, and that jubilation wasn’t a part of his human nature.
What was different? Was it because the turmoil in the sea had been caused by the earthquake? Or was this just a sign that his dragon was less under his control?
Was his dragon more tempestuous because it knew that Brandon would soon be rid of it? It was easy to believe that it might fight harder at the end.
Brandon knew only that he had to conquer his dragon to have a chance with Liz. He watched the waves, studying their pattern. His dragon dared him, tempted him, nudged him toward the challenge of this surf without taking the time to prepare. When Brandon went, it would be by his choice.
Some of the guys were on the beach, watching the water. Although they’d brought their boards, the boards remained on their roof racks. They were joking around and they’d greeted Brandon, but no one was in the water.
The risk was too high.
But Brandon knew this break. If anyone could ride it today, it would be him. He knew its hazards and quirks well, probably even better than Kira. As he watched the surf and noted the familiarity of the break, he became convinced that he could do it.
Maybe Brandon could finish the dragon today with a bold move. If he was right, he could put the torment of his shifter nature behind him, for good.
He could return to Liz immediately.
At that realization, Brandon’s decision was made. He got his board out of the back of Kira’s Volkswagen. Liz’s company was all the incentive he needed to borrow Kira’s towel again and change into the new wet suit.
“You’re joking,” Kira said, her shock clear as she watched him.
“No.” Brandon cast her a smile. “I’m not joking.”
He didn’t wait for her to argue with him. He walked onto the beach, heading directly for the waves crashing on the shore.
Kira ran behind him. “But you can’t! It’s not safe.”
Living with a dragon he couldn’t control wasn’t safe.
Brandon kept walking.
“Brandon, this is crazy!” Kira shouted. “You’ll die.”
He looked back to see her more agitated than he’d ever seen her. The guys on the beach had turned to watch, their curiosity clear.
She shook a finger at him. “It’ll be crap PR for me if you die in that wet suit!”
“Then I won’t die,” Brandon said easily, turning back to the ocean.
“Hey,” Dylan said, striding to his side. “Don’t go out there.”
“I’m going.”
“Look at those waves!” Dylan gestured to the sea, his concern clear. “You wipe out and you’ll be history. It’s merciless out there today.”
Brandon watched the waves. The break was easing slightly to the right. Good. He liked it better there.
“You’ve got your big chance this week,” Kira said from his other side. “Don’t go out there just to do something macho and stupid, and wreck it all.”
“If you break only a board, you’ll be lucky,” Dylan added.
“I thought you said I was the best at this break,” Brandon said to Kira. She nodded reluctantly, her gaze sliding to the pounding surf and back to him. “I can do it.”
“You shouldn’t go out there alone,” Dylan began.
Matt interrupted from behind them. “I’ll go out with you. Let me get my board.”
Kira shoved a hand through her hair and bit her lip. “So you’re both either stupid or crazy.”
Brandon touched her shoulder. “You know it’s all about what you believe,” he reminded her. “I know I can do this, and so I’m going to.”
Kira swore and wrapped her arms around herself. She seemed to realize that she couldn’t change his mind. Matt came back then, having changed into his wet suit, carrying his shortboard. He and Brandon bumped fists, then charged into the surf.
The other guys on the beach cheered and whistled, crowding closer to the water to watch. By the time Brandon put his board in the water and started to paddle, he couldn’t hear them anymore.
There was just the pounding of the sea.
The dragon made only a low growl.
Brandon grinned. He paddled with all his might, lunging through the wave to the outside. Matt was right with him, his eyes filled with excitement. The ocean was dark and roiling on the outside, awesome in its power.
He pointed to the left, indicating the break to Matt. Brandon was on the inside, so he’d take the first wave. He gave Matt a thumbs-up as the next wave reared high against the horizon, then turned and started to paddle toward the beach as fast as he could.
“Go, go, go!” Matt shouted behind him.
The wave swelled under Brandon, lifting him high as it surged toward the beach. He’d caught a massive one and, as always, this moment made his heart thunder with excitement. He was on his feet, balancing on his board, filled with the sense that he could touch the sky. He rode just below the crest on the green wave, the white wave breaking beside him exactly as he’d anticipated, racing toward the beach.
Everything was perfect. His dragon was silent. He was completely in control, in his human form.
This would be it.
There was more parking at ‘Ehukai Beach, but then, that was probably because the waves were crashing on the shore so forcefully that the surfers had stayed home. Liz parked the Mercedes and got out, surprised to find anyone there.
A group of about a dozen surfers stood close to the water, transfixed by something out at sea. The water was roiling and the surf was high. She could feel the fury of the ocean and wished her powers allowed her to pacify it. That was the task of Waterdaughters, but Liz wasn’t sure that even they could calm the waters on this day.
To Liz’s shock, there were two guys on surfboards out in the angry waves. One was paddling toward the shore, apparently targeting the incoming wave.
“Go, go, go!” shouted one of the guys on the beach, although Liz couldn’t imagine that the surfer could hear him. The wave rolled beneath the surfer, lifting him and his board high on its great, dark swell.
He had a steady aura of indigo.
Liz hurried to the beach, knowing who it had to be.
“Get up, Brandon!” one of the guys shouted. “Get up!”
There was one woman among the group of guys at the beach. She glanced at Liz, then back at the surfer. She looked worried.
Brandon was on his feet, balancing perfectly. The wave crested beside him and he rode the dark curve of the wave. He wasn’t that far from the beach and she could see him grin in triumph.
That cockiness made Liz mad.
What the hell was he doing? It had to be suicide to surf when the ocean was this wild. She had come all this way to check that he was okay, only to discover that he was trying to kill himself. Liz’s temper flared, as hot and potent as it had once been.
The reaction of the other surfers certainly indicated that Brandon’s choice was dangerous. Liz had the sense that they couldn’t bear to watch but couldn’t turn away.
The woman folded her arms across her chest and watched fixedly, her lips tight. She made a sound of disgust, then pivoted to walk away.
“Excuse me,” Liz said, hearing the anger in her own tone. “Is that Brandon?”
“Yes,” she said hotly. “Stupid moron.”
Liz had to agree. “It must be dangerous to surf when the sea is like this.”
The woman’s eyes flashed. “This break kills at least one surfer a year. Today’s the kind of day that statistic could come true.” She nodded at the guys. “They all think he has balls, but I think he has shit for brains.”
With that, she marched away. She got into a yellow Volkswagen bug, started it, and squealed the tires as she drove away.
Liz didn’t blame her for being angry. She was probably one of Brandon’s friends.
She stared back at him, both fascinated by his skill and terrified for him. As she might have expected, he was a graceful athlete, making something that had to be hard look effortless. The wave curled beside him, a froth of white spilling down to one side. The curl seemed to have an opening, like the end of a massive tube. She saw the flash of Brandon’s smile as he was almost surrounded by the wave.
One of the guys on the beach gave a whistle.
Brandon crouched lower. He stayed right at the front of the curl, and she knew he must be somehow doing it on purpose. One hand trailed in the wave behind him, his fingers buried in the water; the other was outstretched for balance. She could appreciate that it was exciting to be so close to such power, but it was treacherous, too.
The wave propelled him toward the beach with incredible speed. The water churned right behind him, no more than an arm’s length away, smashing down into the reef with incredible force.
He was a step away from disaster.
On purpose.
Liz fumed. She’d driven through a tunnel in the mountain when there were still aftershocks from the earthquake. She’d abandoned her colleagues and her friend Maureen because she was so worried about Brandon.
And here he was, risking his life for fun.
Liz could have spit sparks. She was so mad that she was tempted to just turn her back and walked away from him forever. But no. She’d spent hours getting here—she’d have the pleasure of telling him off before she drove back.
She strode down the beach toward the surf, livid. The other surfers stepped back to make way for her and she heard them whisper as she marched to the lip of the water. She intended to meet Brandon when he rode to shore, but he must have sensed her presence.
He glanced up from the wave and he was close enough that she could see his surprise.
That didn’t improve her mood. So he hadn’t thought he’d see her again. All that talk of kismet and destiny and true love had been garbage, just garbage he’d spewed to get into bed with her. He was no different from his predatory friend. Liz’s anger boiled and she had even more to say.
But Brandon miscalculated in that moment.
She saw him lose that balance point.
He disappeared under the curl of the wave and his friends swore. The wave smashed over Brandon, driving him down into the reef. His surfboard leapt for the sky, was submerged, then bounced up again. The wave rushed in to the beach and the surfboard bobbed on the surface in the wake of the wave.
There was no sign of Brandon.
“Shit,” one of the guys whispered.
Liz couldn’t believe it. The sight of her had shocked him so much that he’d made a mistake. It couldn’t be her fault that he died in this crazy surf. She wouldn’t be responsible for two deaths! Her anger faded with record speed, only to be replaced by fear.
Brandon didn’t come up. Another wave crashed over the place where he’d gone down and she held her breath. His friends clustered closer, their agitation clear. A third wave reared up, breaking on the lip of coral like a shadow of doom.
“No one lasts three waves,” one guy murmured.
“Come on, Brandon,” urged another. “Come on!”
There was a roar of anger, not very different from the earthquake that morning. A brilliant shimmer of pale blue light lit the water like a flash of lightning, but one that came from the reef below.
Liz was the least surprised of the entire group when a massive black dragon erupted from the surf. It leapt out of the ocean, raging and thrashing as the water ran off its wings and tail. It shook off the water and spread its wings wide, breathing a plume of fire at the waves that had nearly crushed it.
Then it dove back into the ocean’s waves again.
“What the…” murmured the guy beside her.
“It can’t be,” said another.
“What happened to Brandon?” asked a third. “Did the dragon take him down?”
Liz knew where he was.
Brandon was a dragon shape shifter.
One of the Pyr.
She had her irrefutable proof.