Liz nearly fainted when the lightning struck her. She felt her mother’s pendant take the hit, and the melting silver burned against her skin. She fell backward from the Slayer’s assault, and her hold over her fire spell wavered for just an instant.
The fire rope slipped.
It was all the opportunity Chen needed.
He wriggled free and seized her, his claw tightening around her. Liz had time to see the evil gleaming in his reptile eye and to glance down his dark gullet when he laughed. Then there was a flash of light and the beach of Coconut Island disappeared.
She was surrounded by a gray fog, one that made her feel nauseated. Chen’s tight grip around her abdomen didn’t help. She guessed that nothing good was going to happen to her, and knew she needed to keep hold of the crystal.
Suddenly she was just above the surface of the sea. It was raining hard, and lightning flashed from the clouds overhead. Liz had time to notice that there was darkness and water on all sides before she was plunged into the dark water.
Chen dove deep, dragging her down toward the bottom of the ocean. Liz knew she was doomed if he released her there.
If he released her at all.
She instinctively held her breath. Chen was swimming deeper with alarming speed. Liz summoned a strength she hadn’t known she possessed and jammed the point of the crystal into Chen’s eye.
He roared, the sound swallowed by the sea, and flung her aside.
She saw the flash of his malicious smile and knew he thought that she’d never make it to the surface. Chen shifted shape in a brilliant shimmer of blue light, becoming a red salamander that almost glowed against the darkness of the ocean. He swam away, diving down to the ocean floor, his form swallowed by the darkness.
Liz didn’t have the time or the ability to chase Chen. Instead, she fixed her gaze skyward and began to move to the surface with powerful, steady strokes. She was a strong swimmer and as long as she didn’t panic, she was sure she could make it. She exhaled gradually and slowly, determined to survive.
Brandon flew right into the storm. He circled the surface of the water, searching for some clue to where Liz might be. He flew low over the choppy surface, breathing deeply, seeking her scent.
When he caught a whiff of her, he nearly hooted in delight.
Instead he took a deep breath and dove into the dark water. Once again, his dragon powers felt good. He was stronger in dragon form. He could hold his breath longer and swim farther. And his keen dragon vision allowed him to spy Liz in a black dress in the inky, dark water just beneath him.
He swam toward her and snatched her up. She took one look at him, and then her eyes closed. A feeble trail of bubbles came from her nostrils. He’d reached her just in time. Brandon surged for the surface with her in his grasp. When he emerged from the water with a gasping breath, he shifted shape. He had learned years before how to tread water and give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and he was glad of it now.
The storm was already passing, as sure a sign as could be that it was unnatural. It took only a few breaths from him for Liz to begin choking. He held her as she coughed up the seawater, her body ensuring its own survival even when she wasn’t fully conscious. The sea calmed around him, and he felt his exhaustion.
Never mind the salt water in his wounds.
Relief left him numb. He felt his exhaustion from the trials of the day and knew he needed a moment’s respite before he headed for dry land. Brandon caught Liz against his chest and rolled to his back, floating on the surface of the sea. It was a long way back to the island.
He just needed to restore his strength. Liz had passed out but she was breathing, her hand curled on his chest. At least they were out of the storm. The dark clouds were blowing away to the east, taking the lightning with them. The sky was dark overhead and filled with stars, the ocean a dark murmur around them. Brandon watched the moon rise and assessed the distance to the island.
It was really far.
Liz was cold. He had to get her out of the water so she was warm and safe. He summoned every vestige of strength left in him and shifted shape. He took flight, carrying his precious burden, and made steady progress toward the shore.
Brandon thought he was hallucinating when he saw a tourmaline dragon descending out of the sky toward him. He had never been so glad to see a dragon in his life. The scent told him the new arrival’s identity.
Just when they needed an Apothecary.
“Is she all right?” Sloane asked, his concern clear.
“No, but she’s alive.” Brandon held Liz closely, trying to warm her with his body. “She was struck by lightning,” he added. “Chen’s lightning.”
“There’s something unusual about your mate.”
“I know.” Brandon had to tell him the rest aloud because he needed practice with his old-speak. Now he felt motivated to do it. “She trapped Chen with a rope of fire. It was some kind of spell. I think she weakened him with it. And he was angry enough to summon the lightning.”
Sloane looked at Liz with amazement.
“Not only that,” Brandon said. “She used this crystal as a weapon. It shot out a blue-green light, like a laser.” He realized that Sloane was helping him, too. By encouraging him to talk, the Apothecary helped Brandon forget his own exhaustion. To his relief, the island was growing steadily closer.
“Darkfire,” Sloane breathed. “I didn’t know anyone but Marco could do that.” He gave Liz an assessing glance.
Brandon didn’t know what that meant, but he was relieved that his heart was matching its beat to hers again. The sensation made him dizzy, and he hoped that the strength of his pulse would feed her own. “She’s the one who can break Chen’s spell over me. She’s the one who understands it. That’s the gift of the firestorm.”
He heard the smile in Sloane’s voice when that dragon replied, “You sound like Rafferty.”
“Who’s that?”
“One of the Pyr who believes very strongly in the firestorm.”
Brandon looked down at Liz and acknowledged that there was a lot he didn’t know about his own nature. Liz had been right that he needed to find out more—and she was probably right that he couldn’t just make his dragon go away. “I’d like to meet him,” Brandon said quietly, knowing that Sloane would hear him.
“You will eventually, I’m sure. I’ve asked for help from Erik and the others. Some of the Pyr will arrive soon.”
It was new to feel such relief in the promise of dragons arriving, but Brandon already understood that these Pyr could help him. “Not my dad?”
“Not your dad.”
That was a relief. He wasn’t ready for fireworks just yet.
“You don’t look so good yourself,” Sloane commented. “But I can’t believe you got free of that dragonsmoke barrier without being incinerated. How did you do it?”
Brandon quickly updated Sloane on his battle with Jorge. “I’ve got that vial, too. Maybe there’s some residue of the powder in it.”
The other Pyr nodded with approval once he’d heard it all. “Good. We’ll have a day, maybe more. Let’s get a hotel room, a suite with two bedrooms. Somewhere private and expensive. You spend the time with Liz—do some healing—and I’ll defend the perimeter. My treat.”
Before Brandon could thank Sloane, the other dragon descended in a slow spiral over O‘ahu. Brandon recognized the north shore and directed him to the beach for the best resort in the area.
They both shifted shape in the shallows on the beach, but Liz didn’t stir. Brandon carried her in his arms, he and Sloane striding out of the surf and toward the hotel. They must have made quite a sight, but Brandon didn’t care.
Liz was okay, and he wasn’t going to leave her again.
Liz’s nostrils were filled with the smell of ash. She could taste cinders on her tongue and she was sure she could feel her skin sizzling as it was touched by fire. She cried out, fearing that she had been claimed.
Instead she was nude in a luxurious king-sized bed. The crystal that Marco had given her was on the nightstand. She looked around herself in astonishment, wondering how she had managed to move from the ocean’s depths to a hotel suite.
The room was large and beautifully decorated, and an entire wall of sliding glass was opened to the warm breeze. She could see the sea and the faint tinge of dawn at the horizon. The balcony had planters along the railing, and they were filled with lush growth. Liz took a deep breath and tried to release some tension.
She was safe.
And relatively unscathed.
Back in paradise again.
That was when she realized she wasn’t alone. Brandon, also nude, was stretched out beside her. He was watching her with a mixture of amusement and concern, his gaze warm upon her. “Always a surprise to survive a dragon attack, isn’t it?” he asked, and Liz couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Yes.” She took another deep breath, not quite ready to change the mood in the room. She was glad to be safe and glad to see that he was okay, although the bandages on his abdomen and shoulder hinted that he had also survived a dragon attack.
There was fresh blood seeping through the two bandages on his abdomen, and she guessed that this was where his scales were missing from his dragon form.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her hand in his. He was warm and his touch was gentle. “I was totally wrong about Chen.”
“He tricked you,” Liz said.
Brandon nodded. “And he did it again. I wanted to ask if he had some more of that powder, but he got very weak. I offered to help him get home.” He winced. “Then I saw what he really was.”
“He attacked you?”
“And trapped me. I’m only here because I got lucky. He pursued Jorge when Jorge went after you.” He kissed her fingertips, his gaze meeting hers in a silent query.
It was time for Liz to tell him the truth. She nodded and swallowed.
Brandon lifted the sheet and with a gesture invited her to curl against him. He tucked the sheet over them, and Liz found it very reassuring to lean against his heat. It made it easier to confide in him. He kept his hand locked around hers and his other arm around her shoulders.
“Jorge appeared in Kane‘ohe and attacked me.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, too. I had to use my powers to survive, and I did.” She looked up at him. “I should have told you about my family legacy, but I really didn’t want to be a part of it.”
“I guess we have that much in common.” Brandon kissed her temple, and Liz tingled at his touch.
“Except I thought my powers were gone. I gave them away fourteen years ago. I didn’t think I had them anymore, so I didn’t think it was important that I remembered any of it.” Liz shrugged, then touched her lips to Brandon’s chest. “I didn’t think I could do anything about it.”
“What were your powers?” Sloane asked quietly from the doorway.
Both Brandon and Liz started, but Sloane smiled. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and his feet were bare. Liz realized that the room must be part of a suite.
“I can hear you from the other room,” he said. “But it seemed rude to eavesdrop. I’ve breathed a thick dragonsmoke barrier and everything is quiet. I think both Chen and Jorge have been weakened. They’ve both drunk the Dragon’s Blood Elixir, so they will heal, but we have a bit of time to compare notes and figure out what to do.”
Liz was relieved to have another Pyr in the vicinity, especially since he had said he was the Apothecary. To her surprise, Brandon didn’t seem to have a distrust of Sloane anymore.
“Give us a minute,” Brandon said, and Sloane turned away. Brandon went to the bathroom and returned with two plush white bathrobes. When he and Liz had put them on, he summoned Sloane back to the room.
Brandon sat on the bed again and leaned against the headboard. Liz perched on the mattress near him, and Sloane stayed in the doorway. Brandon’s next words revealed the change that had occurred in his thinking, much to Liz’s pleasure. “How about the others?”
“Erik Sorensson is on his way.” Sloane smiled at Liz. “He’s the leader of the Pyr and lives in Chicago. He’ll arrive tomorrow morning with his partner and their daughter. I asked him to talk to Quinn, the Smith who repairs our scales. I’m not sure whether Quinn will leave Sara undefended or if he will bring her and their two sons. He might decline to come.”
Liz hugged her knees. “Then who will fix Brandon’s armor?”
“Let’s take it one issue at a time. If Quinn comes, we won’t have to worry about an alternate solution.” Sloane held Liz’s gaze. “The darkfire has changed many things.”
Liz didn’t understand that, but Brandon snapped his fingers. He went into the bathroom again and returned with a familiar silver vial. He tossed it to Sloane. The Apothecary caught it, then opened it and grimaced. He capped it again quickly and tossed it back to Brandon. “Just what we thought. Dragon Bone Powder.” He shuddered, then turned to Liz with a smile. “I’d really like to know more about your powers.”
“Like I said, I thought they were gone.”
“You did really well against Chen,” Brandon said. “I’ve never seen anything like that lasso of fire.”
Liz took a deep breath. “I’m a Firedaughter. I have a connection to the element of fire. I can command it and summon it, control flames—stuff like that. I can become flame for short intervals, by choice.” She frowned at her fingers. “I come from a long line of witches. The women in my family have always had special powers, and as soon as a daughter shows some ability, her mother teaches her how to manage and use her powers. I learned to cast spells when I was five, after my mother caught me playing with the flames in the fireplace.”
“So the control of elements comes naturally?” Sloane asked.
“Yes and no,” Liz admitted. “It’s a natural development in our family, a sign of how well we are attuned to the elements and the unseen. The women in our family are watched closely in case a connection does appear. Some are Firedaughters, like me. Others are Airdaughters, Waterdaughters, Earthdaughters. Some are just witches.”
Sloane came into the room and sat down. “But you didn’t want to be a Firedaughter?”
Liz frowned. “There is a test that comes to each of us. It’s announced by the appearance of a mark on our skin.” She smiled. “Some people call it a witch’s mark.”
“How soon?” Brandon asked.
“Usually within three days.” Liz looked down.
“What happened to make you turn away from your powers?” Brandon asked, clearly guessing that the story wouldn’t be easy for Liz to tell. She glanced up at him, and he smiled crookedly. “Remember the heartbeat thing,” he said. “I’m feeling your anxiety as if it were my own.”
Liz nodded understanding, liking the unfamiliar sense of not being alone. It had been a long time since she had had an ally. “My mother’s mark appeared when I was eighteen. She was an Airdaughter.” She reached for her mother’s pendant, only to realize that it was gone. Only the silver chain hung around her neck and there was a circular burn on her skin below her collarbone.
“That’s where Chen’s lightning struck you,” Brandon said. “I was afraid it would kill you.”
“Fight fire with fire,” Liz said with a wry smile. “That’s what I was taught. Fire cauterizes,” she said, remembering Pele’s words. “Fire purifies and fire heals.”
“Your mother tried to prepare you for the worst,” Sloane suggested.
“So, what happened?” Brandon asked. “What was the test?”
Liz couldn’t look directly at him. She had condemned herself for so long and was afraid he would condemn her, too. “It was the sabbat, and my mother was casting a circle with her coven. Most of them were family—aunts and cousins. None of them would ever be as powerful as my mother was. The wind was up that night and the gusts made me uneasy. The circle was still being cast when we realized something was wrong.”
“Her test,” Brandon said softly.
Liz nodded. “All of the candles were immediately extinguished and the air became as cold as the grave. A cold flame lit, all by itself, in the middle of the circle. It burned like a tall pillar, taller than me, but threw no heat. The rest of the coven scattered in terror. There was just my mother, the flame, and me.
“My mother showed her powers to prove that she could pass her test. She calmed the winds first, because her primary connection was with air; then she roused them to even greater fury.” Liz swallowed. “I remember the four winds tearing through the circle, creating whirlwinds and pressure changes that popped my ears. I remember my mother dismissing them abruptly, showing a control that awed me. I remember rain slashing down on us, changing from a hot shower to pelting ice to a gentle mist. She was completely in charge of all she summoned and radiant with her power. I remember the earth rumbling below our feet in discontent, stirring and shifting, then sprouting flowers in every direction. It was magical.”
“Wow.” Sloane spoke softly.
“And I remember that column of flame burning vividly through the entire display. It gradually filled almost the whole of the marked circle and seemed to reach the stars. I recognized that this would be my mother’s greatest test, her command over the element of fire. That’s why it was last. It was the element that she knew the least.” Liz swallowed. “I remember her hesitation when she faced it. I saw her swallow. I knew she believed that she might fail.”
Liz pleated the sheet between her fingers, her voice becoming soft. “I wanted to help her.” She swallowed and looked across the room, devastated again by the impact of her choice.
“I don’t understand. What did you do?” Sloane asked. “What could you do?”
Liz appreciated the question. It gave her the chance to focus on the technicalities instead of her emotions. “I gave her my power. When I direct fire, I cast my will toward it. It’s similar to spellcasting but feels different. Hotter for me. Essentially, I toss part of my fire power in the direction of the result that I want. I’d done that before. My aunt, who was also a Firedaughter, taught me to do it once my gift was evident.” Liz smiled. “She’d line up burning candles on the mantle in her kitchen and tell me which one to make burn faster. Then she’d made me light and extinguish them. Eventually she’d command me to light the fire in the fireplace.”
Sloane nodded understanding. “It’s great to have someone to teach you about your powers,” he said, and Liz felt Brandon stiffen a little beside her. Sloane glanced at Brandon, then nodded at Liz. “Let’s hear the rest of Liz’s story.”
“So, I gathered up every scrap of will I could find in myself,” Liz said. “I was terrified that my mother might not pass her test.”
“What happens then?” Brandon asked.
“It’s like a final exam. If you fail, you lose it all. If you pass, you gain the fifth element, that of spirit.”
Sloane nodded understanding, obviously familiar with this concept. “The fifth point on the pentacle.”
“The top one,” Liz agreed with a small smile. She sighed and squared her shoulders.” So I gathered my gift and I cast it to my mother. She sensed my choice. She turned to embrace it, but it was far too much for her. I can see the fireball that I flung through the air to her. I can see the look on her face when she realized she couldn’t harness it. I can still feel my own horror and helplessness—I knew too late what would happen and I couldn’t stop it. She was so strong. I thought she could do anything.” Liz’s tears fell and her voice caught. “I can smell her incineration.”
“It killed her?” Sloane asked.
“I killed her,” Liz corrected, her voice hard.
“What about the pillar of fire?” Brandon asked.
“It disappeared.” Liz snapped her fingers. “Just like that. Everything was suddenly still and dark. The winds were gone, like doldrums. There were no stars or moon, and the candles had long been gutted. Water was glistening on everything and it was cold, so cold that it chilled me to the bone. I was alone. All that was left of my mother was her pendant.” Liz touched the chain around her neck. “And now I’ve even lost that.”
“What about your powers?” Sloane asked.
“Gone, as surely as if they had never been. I couldn’t even light a match afterward.” Liz sighed. “It suited me to not be a Firedaughter anymore. I left home after my mother’s funeral, and I’ve never been back. I don’t keep in touch with my family at all, and I’m not interested in magic. I figured that exchange cost me my gift and my mother.” She turned to Brandon. “You can see why I’ve been determined ever since to never bear a child. No one should have to face that.”
“I’m sorry,” Brandon said. “I should have told you.”
She covered his hand with hers. “You’re such a romantic,” she said softly. “I like that the firestorm was everything you wanted it to be. It was magical for me, too. If you’d told me the truth, I’m not sure anything would have been different, anyway.”
“Why not?”
Liz smiled. “Conception from one night? At the wrong time of my cycle? I’m a scientist. I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Even given your forebears’ experience?” Sloane asked.
Liz shrugged. “When I got to Hawai‘i, I was still convinced that magic couldn’t be part of my life. The marine biologist in me would have declared the odds too long—or maybe insisted on a condom, which, given your story, likely would have failed. I certainly wouldn’t have shared this story that first night.” She glanced up and met Brandon’s gaze. “I’m not sure I could have resisted you, either.” She smiled and saw his answering smile. “I don’t regret anything. I was just surprised.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and bent to kiss her.
Sloane cleared his throat. “Not to interrupt, but maybe we could clear up a couple of things.”
“Maybe they could wait,” Brandon said, his tone so unwelcoming that Liz smiled.
Sloane smiled, too, but he still asked, “Why are your powers back?”
It was a good question. “I don’t know. I felt their return right after landing. When we drove through the tunnel, I saw Maureen’s aura. That’s how it started when I was a kid. First, seeing auras. Then hearing spirits. Then speaking spells.”
“See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil,” Sloane murmured.
“That was my mother’s mantra.” Liz made a suggestion. “I wonder whether it’s because the fire in the earth is so close to the surface here. It might be proximity that reawakened my gifts. Every time I drove that tunnel through the volcano, something else came back.”
“Maybe the firestorm sparked your gift again,” Brandon suggested.
Liz frowned. “Or maybe it was Pele.” The two guys clearly didn’t understand. “The goddess of the volcanoes. She appeared to me, again when I was in the tunnel, driving back to Kane‘ohe today, and spoke to me about my gift. She said it just needed time to regenerate, that I could never really give it away, that a connection to the elements is, well, elemental.”
“Like I can’t ditch my dragon,” Brandon said, holding her tightly against his side. She looked up to find him smiling. “Now, who was the wise woman who told me that?”
Sloane cleared his throat. “We Pyr each have an affinity to two elements. Usually, fire is one. The affinity often manifests in more intellectual or emotional ways, though. My own affinity to water, for example, appears as empathy. That helps with my ability to heal, because I can diagnose more effectively.”
“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.