Kay Merrick welcomed the chaos of the holiday season. She was completely overbooked with orders this year, and she was even gladder of it than usual. Working twenty hours a day ensured that she had no time to think. No time to be lonely. No time to worry that she hadn’t heard from her son, Brandon, since the earthquakes.
Surviving Christmas Day would be another feat altogether, but she’d get through it. She always did.
Even if this year would be the twenty-fifth anniversary of her first Christmas without Brandt.
She told herself that the only thing she regretted about her booming business was that she wouldn’t be able to watch the surfing competition live from Hawai‘i. She’d upgraded her cable to get the specialty station, just to see Brandon compete. She’d taped the other two competitions and watched hungrily as her son succeeded at what he did best.
She replayed it over and over again, as greedy for detail as a rabid fan girl. Her son was even stronger and more handsome than she recalled and exuded his father’s confidence. The commentators had noted that the third part of the competition was likely to be his chance to shine, and Kay wanted to watch it live. No chance of that, not this holiday season. The recording would have to do.
She’d also been avidly checking the news for details of damage and deaths after the earthquake. She hoped and prayed that Brandon was okay, that he’d remained on the north shore, which had seemed to be comparatively unscathed. She hated that she didn’t know for sure and had no good way to find out.
Watching the videos of her son thousands of miles away just made Kay more keenly aware of what she’d lost. She’d said hard things out of anger and fear and never had the chance to take them back.
Well, maybe Kay hadn’t made the chance. Pride got in her way. And when she heard from Brandon—which wasn’t often—he usually mentioned that he was sending an e-mail from a public computer. That didn’t exactly open the door to apologies and exchanging confidences.
Her cell phone rang just as she was reaching to take tart shells out of the oven. Kay glanced at them, but they weren’t quite ready. “Rachel!” she called to her assistant. “These are within a hair of being done. Can you keep an eye on them?”
“I’m all over it,” the younger woman said with her usual cheerfulness.
Kay checked the caller ID on her phone. Sloane Forbes. She didn’t know anybody by that name, and she didn’t have the capacity to take on any more holiday orders. Might as well get that straight early.
“Hello, Mr. Forbes,” she said briskly by way of greeting. “I do hope that you’re calling with regards to something for the New Year. We’re quite overwhelmed this holiday season….”
“Hey, Mom.”
Kay fell silent at the sound of a voice she would recognize anywhere.
“Still working too hard?”
Kay’s knees gave out beneath her and she sat down hard on a stool. “Brandon,” she whispered, unable to believe it was true.
“Yeah,” he said, and took a shaky breath, proof that he wasn’t as confident as he sounded. “I’ve owed you an apology for a long time, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” Kay admitted, feeling her tears start to flow.
Brandon took another deep breath. “So, Mom, I met this girl, and she told me I should give you a call. I’m thinking she’s the one.”
Kay smiled through her tears. “I’m glad.”
“Her name is Liz,” Brandon said, and Kay could hear his love for this girl in his voice. Everything was coming together for him and she was so happy to hear from him again. She could have listened to him all day long—to hell with the tarts.
When they ended the call, agreeing to keep in touch, Kay sat holding her cell phone tightly, marveling at what had just happened.
That was when she realized that her son must have had his firestorm, that this Liz was the woman who could have his son. Like Kay had been, she was probably already pregnant. She’d probably been overwhelmed by the sparks and the power and the raw charisma of a Pyr determined to win her heart.
Kay remembered that very well.
She was going to be a grandmother, she realized with a shock.
Kay looked around her commercial kitchen, at the scheduled bookings on the wall chart and the stacked boxes waiting to be filled with cakes and pastries, and she knew exactly where she wanted to be. None of this could compete with the chance to stand on a beach in Hawai‘i and watch her son’s life come together. She’d meet Liz. She’d be there when he triumphed.
And she’d start to try to make up for all the years they’d lost.
Liz watched Brandon punch in a number. The Pyr and their partners pretended to avert their interest, but she knew they were all listening. With their keen hearing, they’d be able to hear every word.
They were as protective of one of their own as she had guessed dragons would be. That reminded her of her mother’s circle, and she realized how much she had missed that sense of community. Plus the Pyr and their partners were more welcoming of her than she’d expected. Like Brandon, they believed implicitly that the firestorm could not be wrong. That level of trust was also familiar to Liz, and just as completely forgotten.
She caught Rox looking at the mark on her arm again, the woman’s concern clear, and covered it with her other hand. She would be glad to join this group if she could. Liz, though, would require more proof that she wasn’t bringing peril to this group by joining them.
She knew that she had to use her gifts to guarantee Brandon’s freedom. But how? She knew she could summon Chen by tugging on the binding spell from this end, but what would she or the Pyr do once the Slayer turned up?
Sara came to Liz’s side then. She was holding a piece of paper with some writing on it. “Does this verse mean anything to you?” Her tone revealed her conviction that Liz would understand it perfectly.
Dragon lost and dragon found;
Dragon denied and dragon bound.
Down to embers, his fire chills,
In thrall to one whose intent is ill.
Firedaughter’s spark can ignite the flame,
Give him strength to fight again.
Or will both be lost on ocean’s tide
Surrendered as a failed test’s price?
Liz shuddered and handed it back to Sara, not even wanting to touch it. It was one thing to think that she might fail her test, but she didn’t even want to think about Brandon being caught up in the repercussions.
“How did you get the mark?” Rox asked, having come to Liz’s other side. She read the verse; then the two other women exchanged a glance.
Liz explained about her family tradition of witchcraft, telling them all what she’d told Sloane and Brandon. Brandon ended his call when she was nearly done and came to her side, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“Okay?” she asked.
He grinned. “Perfect. You were right.” The others exchanged pleased glances, then looked at Liz.
“You must hold the key to breaking the spell Chen cast over Brandon,” Sara said. “Tell us what to do to help.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Liz said. “I can bring him to us—I’m pretty sure of that. I’m just not sure what to do when he gets here.”
“How can you protect Brandon from being claimed?” Erik asked.
“I would use a protective circle against a demon. It might work against Chen, too.”
“What about the spiral?” Brandon asked, and Liz looked at him in surprise. “The spiral on the floor of his lair must have been part of his spell.” He gestured. “It was big. It filled the whole room and was made of ridges of sand. My scales were at the middle.”
“At the vortex,” Sloane said.
“What did it look like?” Liz asked, her excitement rising.
“A big spiral,” Brandon said.
“No. Which way did it turn?” From beside the phone, Liz grabbed a pad of paper that had the hotel logo on it. She drew two spirals, one that radiated from the center in a clockwise direction and one that radiated from the center in a counterclockwise direction.
“This way,” Brandon said, touching the second one. “Does it matter?”
Liz smiled, hearing her mother’s lessons all over again. She pointed at the first one. “This one is sunwise. It’s an emanation of creative energy. Like the sun, it sends its power out into the universe.” She tapped the other, the one that had been the same as the spell on the floor. “This one is destructive. It pulls power in, cheating it of the universe and drawing it to the center.”
“Sounds like Chen,” Niall said quietly, and the Pyr nodded.
“Okay,” Liz said, glad she could solve half of the problem. Maybe if she helped Brandon to secure his freedom, he could somehow help her pass her test. She’d worry about that later. “I can see how to make this work. I need a few things, including a secluded beach.”
“There’s one a couple of miles away from here,” Brandon said. “It doesn’t have easy access from the highway or a good surfing break, so it’s always quiet.”
“Good. Let’s be there at noon.” She pointed at the Pyr. “You need a plan of what to do when Chen turns up. How are you going to destroy him?” Liz felt their determination and again had the sense of being part of a caring and powerful community.
“He’s drunk the Elixir,” Erik said. “He won’t go down easily.”
“We’ve seen that before,” Sloane agreed, and the Pyr began to confer in old-speak.
At least Liz assumed that was what they were doing, because there was no reason for there to be thunder on such a clear day.
She turned the page on the notepad and started to make a list of supplies. The women leaned over her shoulder, watching her write, each one claiming an item on Liz’s list, then departing to find it.
This could work.
At noon, they were on the beach. Brandon watched Liz direct the others, admiring her confidence and knowledge. She had sketched a large circle in the sand and conferred with Erik about its dimensions. She wanted to ensure that the Pyr had room to fight in dragon form, but the larger the protective circle, the weaker its barrier would be.
Then she used the compass to identify and mark the cardinal compass points. She planted a hurricane lantern at each one. There was a big candle in each lantern; the glass ensured that it couldn’t blow out easily.
She considered the sky worriedly. There were a number of small clouds floating across the expanse of blue, and the wind was light. The waves on the ocean were small and regular, the surface beyond the break as smooth as glass. It should have been a perfect day, but Brandon had a feeling that something was brewing.
Was he just sensitive to Liz’s magic?
She turned to the Pyr with resolve. “Can you change shape? I need to see you to decide where you should be.”
There was a brilliant shimmer of pale blue light; then four dragons stood on the beach with them. Liz considered each of them in turn, then beckoned the massive pewter and ebony dragon that was Erik. “North for you,” she said, and Erik moved into position. “You with him,” Liz instructed Eileen. “Stay inside the mark where the circle will be, and once it’s cast, do not step out of it.”
“Got it,” Eileen said. Liz handed her a matchbook. Zoë stood with her mother and watched with wide eyes.
“East for you,” Liz said to Niall. Brandon wondered whether there was a rationale to her choices or whether she was working instinctively. Niall—amethyst and silver in dragon form—and Rox and their two infant sons took the eastern cardinal point, and, once again, Liz gave the mate a matchbook.
Rox kicked off her black platform shoes, leaving them outside the circle. She was wearing two baby carriers, so one child was in front and one in the back. It worked only because the babies were small, since Rox was petite herself. It wouldn’t work in a few months.
They had talked about keeping the children somewhere else, somewhere safe, but there was no safer place, according to Liz, than inside the circle. Their fathers had been vehement that they wanted to personally defend their families. The children were all awake and even the infants appeared to be avidly interested. Brandon wondered whether they could sense the anticipation of the others.
“West,” Liz said to Sloane, and he did as he was bidden, his tourmaline scales gleaming in the sunlight.
“And south,” Liz said to Quinn. He was sapphire and steel in dragon form, more muscular than any of the other Pyr. He took his place, Sara beside him, one boy in a baby carrier and the other standing in front of his father with shining eyes.
Garrett. The older boy was named Garrett. He lifted his hands as if he were a dragon and clawed at the air, baring his teeth and pretending to fight. Sara tousled his hair.
“Tails coiled inside the circle,” Liz instructed, and the Pyr slid their tails across the sand. They each had their tails unfurled to the left, which gave the circle a scaled perimeter.
She smiled approval, then beckoned to Brandon. “Stay in human form,” she said. “It will make you look weaker.”
“He’ll probably make me change forms, anyway, to show his power.”
“Maybe he can’t, since his spell is weakened and so is he,” Sloane said.
Liz gave Brandon a look. “You could pretend that he’s making you change. Give him a false sense of power.”
Brandon nodded agreement with that plan. “That puts surprise on our side. I like it.” She indicated the very center of the circle, positioning him to face the north. He met the steely gaze of Erik and knew that everyone understood how high the stakes were. “Is this going to work?” he asked Liz in an undertone.
“It should work,” she said. “I will summon him. He will come for the bait, which is you. The Pyr can surprise him, and everyone else will be safe within the circle.” She bit her lip. “Recognize that I’m trying to make him appear inside the circle. He won’t be able to leave it, if everything goes according to plan, but he might be able to manifest elsewhere, since that’s one of his powers.”
“He’d leave the same way he comes in,” Brandon said.
Liz nodded. “The idea is that you will all injure him badly enough that he can’t do that.”
“He will have to be killed,” Erik said with resolve.
“No injury will be sufficient,” Sloane agreed.
“So we take him hard and fast,” Quinn said, then nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Use dragonsmoke,” Niall said. “If we can establish a conduit, we can sap him of his energy.”
“I say we build a dragonsmoke barrier as Liz casts her circle,” Erik said. “It takes time to build a fortified barrier.” At Liz’s nod, the four older Pyr began to breathe slowly and steadily. Brandon knew Liz wouldn’t be able to see the dragonsmoke they breathed, but she’d certainly feel how the air chilled.
“Stay inside the circle,” Liz reminded the women again. “Do not break the perimeter, no matter what happens.”
They nodded agreement, but Liz looked each one in the eye. Brandon understood that this was the vulnerability of the plan.
But there was no other choice. They had to try to defeat Chen while he was weak. Brandon watched Liz raise her hands to the sky and hoped this wasn’t the way they parted forever.
She began to chant something in a language he didn’t understand; then she picked up the bucket of salt she’d brought and began to cast the protective circle around them all.
One thing about rituals was that they were reassuring. Liz calmed down as she began to cast the circle. It was routine work, something she’d done a thousand times, and the familiar gestures and words built her confidence.
There was so much that was unpredictable about this spell. She didn’t know this area well or have the familiarity with its vibrations she would have preferred. She didn’t know nearly enough about dragons, either Pyr or Slayer, to be sure that she was covering the important possibilities. She wasn’t sure that Chen was weakened enough that he could be defeated, and she feared that Brandon could be not just bait but also prey.
It didn’t hurt to have five dragons with her, much less their own understanding of their nature. She hoped they could make decisions on the fly, and expected that Erik would be good at that.
She’d assigned each Pyr to a cardinal point on instinct, her choices based on the colors of their scales and any sense of conviction. She remembered Sloane saying that each Pyr had affinities to two elements and kept that in her mind as she chose.
Erik had been an obvious choice for the north, which was associated with both the colors black and silver. In Wiccan thinking, north was governed by earth. As leader of the Pyr, she guessed that Erik had a firm interest in the physical welfare of the other dragon shifters—his paternal tendency, after all, had brought him to Brandon and was manifesting in his protectiveness.
Sloane, as Apothecary of the Pyr, belonged in the west. She’d been uncertain of that for a moment, since west was governed by blue and Quinn was sapphire in dragon form. But Sloane had empathy and sympathy. He’d need that to heal others, and that association with water was more important to Liz in making the assignment than the color of his scales.
Niall was an easier choice. East was associated with the element of air and the color white in Wiccan symbolism. Although Niall was amethyst and silver, there was something ethereal about him, something electric about his presence. Liz went with her gut and assumed he had a connection to the element of air.
And Quinn was in the south, the cardinal point governing fire, passion, and the color red. Although his scales were not red, he worked with fire routinely and there would be a lot of glowing red coals and iron in his life. That the Aztecs associated the southern direction with the color blue just gave more credence to Liz’s choice.
The Pyr felt right to her in those places. She looked around at them, noting the vivid hue of their auras and the way the light crackled against the sky. The circle was already lit with flickering light.
Once the circle was cast, Liz welcomed the elements at each cardinal point of the compass. She noticed that the wind was gusting more with every passing moment. Erik was watching the sky, his dragon eyes glittering. The ocean was becoming choppier, too, the waves growing in size. She saw Brandon watching the surf, a frown on his brow. Liz could feel the power she was summoning and assumed the elements were responding to her call.
Once the perimeter was secured, she began the beckoning chant. Brandon held the silver vial that Chen had given him days before, the one that had held the Dragon Bone Powder. At her nod, he held it in front of himself, the anchor to the spell she was casting. It had been Chen’s possession, so it also had a link to the Slayer. Liz kept it fixed in her thoughts.
She began at the north and shuffled her feet in the sand, creating a trough that wound in a counterclockwise direction. She repeated the spell, and Eileen followed her, adding her voice to the chant and deepening the trough of the spiral. She guided Zoë to stay between the two of them.
Liz was reminded of the spiral dance she had done once at a Wiccan gathering. She reached back with her right hand and took Zoë’s left hand, never breaking her chant. Eileen watched and ensured that the link was made the same way. Each of them would have their right hand back and their left hand forward.
Give with the left and receive with the right. Liz heard her mother’s instruction as if that woman was directly behind her. Liz would be the terminus of the energy they built—and she might need every scrap of it. Her heart skipped with trepidation.
At the western point, Sloane bowed his head as they passed, as if paying homage to the power Liz could already feel building.
When they passed the southern point, Sara stepped into the trough behind Eileen. Liz felt the tips of her hair illuminate as Sara’s power was added to the line, and she felt seared by the connection to their son Garrett. The boy was remarkably powerful, even at his young age. Quinn’s eyes narrowed as if he understood what she was feeling, and Liz realized that he knew his son had an affinity to fire, too.
There were sparks dancing over Liz’s skin by the time they passed the east and Rox joined their conga line. She, too, joined hands, and Liz caught her breath at the surge of energy she felt added to their line. These were powerful women, each in their own right, and Liz supposed she should have expected as much from the mates of dragon shifters.
The power was growing exponentially, making the hairs on her arms stand up. The auras of the Pyr were becoming brighter and radiating more broadly. The women chanted together, completing the first round of the circle, and Liz saw the approval in Erik’s eyes. She turned inward, making the circle into a spiral, and raised her voice. The women became louder, too.
Black clouds were gathering overhead and the wind swirled around the outside of the circle. She was reminded of wind sprites that could dance in whirlwinds and hoped there were other spirits gathering to help them.
The women sang together with force, the Pyr joining the chorus. Liz felt the crackle of energy in the circle and she saw the flicker of flames around the perimeter. She felt the power continue to increase. The mark on her chest from her mother’s pendant tingled. Her blood sizzled. Her skin shone. The Firedaughter flame rolled over her and illuminated her, charging her every gesture with the element of fire. The inside of the circle was filled with a golden glow, a radiant orb of fire power.
Liz reached the middle of the circle and raised her left hand. The power the women had gathered ran through her body like an electrical current. Liz finished the chorus, then shouted the command to complete the spell, even as she lifted Brandon’s hand and that silver vial toward the sky.
There was a crack of lightning, its jagged light slicing through the air. The lightning touched the end of the vial. She saw the silver vial light with white fire. She gaped at the image of her mother within the flame’s dancing lights; then the auras of the Pyr were extinguished.
And everything happened very fast.
Thorolf was in bed in a flat in Bangkok. It was late, really late, and the city beyond the window was coming as close to silence as it ever did. He rolled over, reaching for Viv’s warmth.
He was exhausted.
He was a bit drunk.
He’d had more sex since meeting Viv than ever in his life—which was saying something. Thorolf loved women and he loved sex.
Yet he just couldn’t get enough of Viv. She nestled against him and he was instantly ready, all over again. He had just closed his eyes and touched his lips to her nape, had just heard her sigh of satisfaction, when someone jumped him from behind.
He felt the talons lock into his shoulder.
He smelled Slayer, way too late.
He roared and spun, intent on defending Viv.
Gold talons dug deeply into his skin, holding him captive. Thorolf glanced back and Chen chuckled, murmuring something that disoriented Thorolf. He was breathing dragonsmoke, weaving it around Thorolf with dizzying speed and sucking him dry. He was also bleeding, his black Slayer blood running from a wound in one eye. It scorched the floor when it dripped onto it, but the injury didn’t seem to weaken him.
Thorolf struggled. He fought. He tried to shift shape but couldn’t. It just didn’t work.
Chen laughed softly, unsurprised.
That was when Thorolf panicked.
It made absolutely no difference. He was completely powerless, as he had never been in his life. Chen held him down, his ferocious strength keeping Thorolf captive. He rolled Thorolf to his back and bared his teeth, closing in to eat Thorolf’s guts.
Yet Viv slept, oblivious to his struggle, rubbing her feet against him like a cat. He had the biggest erection of his life, which just made the moment more surreal.
There was nothing sexy about being devoured by Chen.
It was his worst nightmare come true.
Thorolf heard himself moan as he felt Chen’s breath on his belly.
He thrashed, and the dragonsmoke net burned him all over. He bellowed, hoping that this was a nightmare and he’d wake up. A tempest swirled in the room, an unnatural wind that ripped at the blinds and cast the dishes to the floor. It seemed to echo Thorolf’s anguish, and he wondered whether he had created it somehow.
Niall could control the wind.
Could he?
Thorolf tried to feed the wind’s frenzy, tried to make it blow harder and colder. He tried to make it disperse the dragonsmoke, and, to his delight, it worked. He wished for sand in the wind and he laughed when Chen roared in pain beneath a volley of fine gravel. That roar broke the line of dragonsmoke and was the only opportunity Thorolf needed.
He lunged through the remaining net of dragonsmoke, ignoring the way it scathed him. He pounded Chen in the face, jabbing his fist into that damaged eye. Chen roared in pain and thrashed his tail. One blow sent Thorolf sprawling into the far wall.
He still couldn’t shift, and now he’d hit his head. He waited on the floor, feigning unconsciousness, waiting for his moment. Viv, incredibly, remained asleep. Chen bared his teeth and breathed dragonfire as he stalked closer.
Suddenly he pounced.
Thorolf lunged straight at his opponent and drove his head into the Slayer’s gut. He slammed a stool hard into the Slayer’s genitals. Chen choked. He staggered backward, his plume of dragonfire scorching the air. Thorolf kicked him in the face and tried again to shift shape.
No luck.
He glanced out the window and thought he saw a person dressed in black on the street below, looking up at his flat’s windows. The blinds were open and the dragonfire would make the fight clear to anyone who was looking.
Thorolf saw the pale oval of the observer’s face and guessed that the thief he’d once let escape was still following him.
Why?
Then Chen’s plume of flames erupted behind him, turning the window into a mirror. Thorolf saw the reflection of a snake in the window glass, wide-awake and watching. There was a green viper coiled in the bed where Viv had been, its eyes sparkling like jewels. It opened its mouth and he saw its sharp fangs, the hungry flick of its tongue.
“We had a deal,” the viper cried, and launched itself at Chen. Its fangs sank deeply into the Slayer’s hide, and Thorolf wondered what toxin was in its bite.
Because Chen wavered, like a reflection on the surface of a lake, and abruptly disappeared.
The flames vanished, as well, turning the window to an inky square of night once more.
Thorolf spun in horror, fearing for Viv, but Chen really was gone. The flames were gone. The viper was gone. And Viv was reaching for him, concern in her expression.
He was naked.
He sank to the floor, trembling, feeling as though he was going to be sick.
“Bad dream, baby?” Viv murmured, pulling him into her arms and kissing him gently. “You gotta take it easy with that firewater,” she teased gently, wiping the perspiration from his face. “That shit will kill you.”
Thorolf looked at her, and she smiled. He exhaled shakily. It must have been a nightmare. He looked back out the window, but there was no sign of the thief.
If that person had ever even been there.
“You okay, baby?” Viv murmured. She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering against his skin. A glow lit her eyes as she smiled. “Don’t worry. I know how to make the bad dreams go away,” she whispered, rubbing herself against him. Thorolf grinned and caught her close.
Just a dream.
Nothing more than that.
Thorolf just wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Yeah. That was it. He carried Viv back to bed, and it was a long time before either of them tried to sleep again.
Chen cursed as he was snatched from Bangkok and flung through time against his will. He was being hauled back to Hawai‘i, unable to resist the spell cast by the witch who carried Brandon’s child.
At least he understood why Viv Jason hadn’t delivered Thorolf to him as agreed: she wanted him for herself. She was out of luck. Chen had already decided the Pyr would be his due.
That bite of hers meant war.
His blinded eye meant war, even if the Elixir would ultimately heal it.
He’d take out Brandon’s mate and Brandon, then return for Viv and Thorolf.
They’d all learn their lesson for daring to wrest control from him.
On the beach on O‘ahu, Brandon was transfixed by the sight of Liz. She was radiant with the fire within her, so filled with power that she looked like she might explode into a flurry of sparks. Her eyes were lit with an inner flame and there were sparks flying from her fingertips, as before. This time, though, her body was so bright with orange light that she could have been made of fire.
She lifted their entwined hands and burned even brighter. He felt his dragon roar with pleasure and a spark shoot through his own body, electrifying him. She was his mate and he loved her.
Then the lightning bolt hit, and his dragon bellowed.
His dragon didn’t hesitate and it didn’t wait for Brandon’s agreement. The shift rocketed through Brandon’s body, compelling him to change forms. He beat his wings against the sky and raged in frustration. He tipped his head back and breathed fire at the sky.
His dragon was in control again!
He saw immediately that Liz thought he had shifted on purpose, as discussed. She didn’t realize that his dragon was ascendant again. His dragon shouldn’t have been in charge of his body, not when he stood so close to Liz, but he guessed that Chen had some other means on his side.
He looked around and saw the twinkle of Dragon Bone Powder around the lip of the vial. His body was reacting to even that trace of the powder that buttressed Chen’s control over him. He felt an odd sensation on his chest, like a prickling, but when he looked down, he saw a red salamander running across the spiral in the sand.
With a gold salamander fast behind him.
It was Chen who had compelled him to change!
Neither salamander had been there a moment before and Brandon knew it. He dove and snatched at the pair, seizing one in each claw, but Jorge slipped through his fingers. Chen shifted shape, becoming a young Chinese man in jeans and leather. There was a cut on his cheek, and he favored one leg. One of his eyes was a mess, too. The element of surprise was on Chen’s side, and Brandon’s grip faltered when he found this stranger in his grasp. The young man punched Brandon in the face, his lip curling as Chen’s had. Sure of his identity, Brandon breathed fire at him.
Chen became a dragon with scales of lacquer red that were edged in gold. His eyes flashed and he leapt at Brandon, biting into his shoulder. Brandon struck him with his tail, digging his own claws into the wound on Chen’s face. Black Slayer blood fell, burning Brandon’s scales wherever it touched. Brandon grabbed the Slayer and shoved his head into the beach, compelling him to breathe sand.
Chen shifted shape again, becoming a beautiful Chinese woman. Brandon was sufficiently startled once more that his grip faltered—he couldn’t torture a woman!—which was the only opportunity she needed to drive her spike heel into the wound on his belly. He fell back in anguish, remembering the woman who had appeared outside Chen’s place, just as she pivoted to fight. She had the same gash on her cheek and the same damaged eye.
She was Chen.
Brandon punched the Slayer and went after him, determined to not let him out of his grasp. He pounced on Chen and held him down.
What was wrong with the others? Brandon glanced at the other Pyr, only to find that they were frozen in place.
“Another spell,” he whispered, and Chen laughed.
He changed back to dragon form again, leaping at Brandon with talons all bared.
He latched on to Brandon, digging his claws deep into Brandon’s hide.
The entire scene was suddenly illuminated in brilliant blue-green light.
Darkfire!
When the auras of the Pyr were extinguished, Liz feared the worst. Where there had been a bright play of color, suddenly there was no light at all. The circle was dark and still, like the calm before the storm.
She saw that the Pyr appeared to have turned to stone. Their mates were similarly snared, but the children were as active as they had been before.
When Liz saw the red salamander appear out of nothing beside Brandon, she knew exactly what kind of salamander it had to be.
Its name was Chen.
Right behind it appeared another salamander, this one in shades of gold. It popped out of the air exactly the same way. Liz guessed that this was Jorge.
Meanwhile, Brandon gave a cry and shifted shape. He snatched for the two salamanders but managed to hold on to only the red one. The gold one raced across the sand and leapt for the boundary of the circle.
Garrett moved with astonishing speed, grabbing for the gold salamander.
Liz cried out a warning, but Jorge plunged through the circle she’d created. He screamed as he punctured the barrier that kept them all safe, and Liz hoped that both the circle and the dragonsmoke had burned him badly. She saw the rent in the circle’s protective veil, like a tear in a silk curtain. She saw that destroyed barrier ripple in the wind and the energy she had raised begin to leak through it.
To her horror, Garrett charged through the barrier after the golden salamander.
Liz raced after the boy, shouting at him to stop. Twenty feet outside the circle, he snatched up the salamander with a hoot. He had time to turn to face her, his expression triumphant as he held the squirming salamander high over his head.
Then Jorge shifted shape. Garrett shouted as the enormous golden dragon snatched him up in his claws and leapt for the sky. Jorge turned to fly away, carrying the struggling boy in front of him.
Liz pulled out the darkfire crystal. At least there was no risk of her hitting the child; Garrett was completely obscured by Jorge’s body.
She fired the crystal at Jorge. The beam of blue-green light that emanated from the stone struck him in the spine. He screamed and fell toward the earth, his black blood dripping from the wound in a lethal river. He dropped Garrett, and Liz ran to scoop up the little boy, fearing he had been hurt.
As she pulled him into her arms, he clung to her neck. She spun around to return to the circle.
Only to be confronted with a pillar of flame she’d seen once before.
Liz swallowed.
Her test was beginning, and at the worst possible time.