Ember's Kiss (25 page)

She quickly saw that he hadn't had a choice. The yellow dragon was locked in combat with another dragon above and behind Liz, closer to the parking lot. The second dragon was a deep red, the red of Chinese lacquer. Each scale again looked as if it was edged in gold, his talons were gold, and he had golden horns. The two of them looked like jeweled treasures.

But they were pounding the crap out of each other, which worked for Liz in a big way.

The dragons locked claws and tumbled end over end through the sky. Their tails twined together and Liz understood that they were trying to overpower each other. Their teeth flashed as each snapped at the other, and their talons ripped into each other's flesh. Liz saw more than one explosion of orange fire and a lot of blood flowing.

It was all black and it sizzled when it dropped into the ocean, emitting a plume of steam.

She remembered what Sloane had said and knew they were both
Slayers
.

They must be fighting over her. It was not good news to be on the Must Have list for two different
Slayers
. It had to be because of the firestorm.

Because of the baby. Liz's hand curved over her belly protectively.

No matter what his intentions were, the new
Slayer
was giving her a chance to escape, and Liz was going to use it.

Liz swam the last distance to the island and pulled herself onto the dock. There was no one around, presumably because they were all still making repairs to the damaged equipment. She raised her hands and turned around in place, surrounding herself with a spiral of her mother's favorite protection spell. It was resonant and powerful, a good spell to use in an emergency. It was also one that left the spellcaster exhausted.

Liz would take dead tired over plain old dead any day.

She finished the last flourish of the spell and felt its cocoon close around her. It would move with her, although it would fade in time. For the moment, she was as safe as she could be.

She took one last look at the fighting pair and saw the red one get slammed hard by the new arrival. He grabbed the yellow one by the neck and shoved his face into the ocean, as if he'd forcibly hold him underwater.

The yellow dragon thrashed, his powerful tail thumping his opponent. His wings beat. His claws
tore. The red dragon held fast and breathed a stream of fire at his captive for good measure. The ocean boiled, the water turning black around the fighting pair.

Liz heard a roar of outrage.

And then the yellow dragon disappeared.

The red one hovered over the surface of the water, his dark wings beating with slow power. He flew back and forth, examining the water, then turned gracefully to look at her.

With that one look, Liz understood that he hadn't been saving her—he'd been saving her for himself. He flew toward her with power and fury, his eyes shining with hatred and his talons extended.

It was a little bit hard to believe in the efficacy of an invisible spell when a dragon had her in his sights.

Liz spun around to run, not at all sure she could run fast enough.

“You ready to listen yet?”

The old-speak slid into Brandon's thoughts, startling him as it always did. He stood up and looked out the windows of his prison, only to see Sloane standing in the path, almost exactly where Brandon had been attacked. The other
Pyr
had his arms folded across his chest and his expression was guarded.

Brandon knew he was lucky that the other
Pyr
had come to him at all.

“I'm sorry,”
he replied in kind.
“I've made a huge mistake.”

The Apothecary nodded and scanned the front of the building.
“Serious dragonsmoke barrier here. I'll guess that permissions are set against you.”

“Burns like acid.”

Sloane nodded.
“From this side, too.”
He flicked a look at Brandon.
“Find anything interesting in the lair?”

Brandon gestured to the larger main room.
“A spiral in sand, with two of my scales in the middle.”
He frowned.
“But I've given him three. I can't find the last one.”

Sloane wasn't listening anymore. He was walking back and forth, his expression intent.
“Who else was here?”

“Some yellow
Slayer.
Blond guy. Blue eyes.”

Sloane exhaled.
“I thought I'd caught a whiff of Jorge in town, but it was so fleeting.”
He scanned the area, nodding in thought, then looked at the sky.

“I think they were going after Liz.”

Sloane gave Brandon a stern glance.
“Bad plan to leave your mate undefended.”

Brandon exhaled with impatience.
“Look, okay, I've messed up,”
he said, his temper simmering.
“But it would be better to help me than to lecture me. I know I was wrong. I need to fix it. I need to defend Liz!”

“You need the
Pyr,
and you need your own dragon nature, and until you admit that, there's nothing I can do to help you,”
Sloane said flatly.

To Brandon's dismay, the Apothecary turned to walk away.

“All right!” Brandon shouted out loud. He pounded on the window to get Sloane's attention and was relieved when the other
Pyr
turned to glance over his shoulder.

“Choose,” Sloane said softly, so softly that only Brandon could hear him.

He stared at the floor. He feared he was lost himself. But he had to believe in the promise of the firestorm, and he had to believe in the future. He looked back at Sloane and met the other
Pyr'
s gaze steadily. He answered in old-speak and used the formal form of address, knowing he was asking for a lot in dragon terms.
“Please defend Liz and my son.”

Sloane surveyed him for a moment, then nodded.
“I will do my best,”
he replied in kind, then flung his hands into the air. There was a brilliant shimmer of blue as Sloane transformed to a sleek dragon. His scales were all the hues of tourmalines, shading from green to purple and back again over his length. His claws were gold and his scales were tipped in gold. He could have been a jeweled ornament, but he flew with grace and breathed fire. He gave Brandon one last look—as if to emphasize that his best might not be good enough—then took flight over the trees and disappeared.

Brandon looked around his prison, his frustration rising. He had to get free. He had to help Liz. He couldn't get through the dragonsmoke barrier alone, but Chen had moved him through it.

Brandon looked at the elaborately worked spiral of
sand on the floor and had an idea. He deliberately walked across the spiral, dragging his feet and cutting a path through the carefully stacked sand furrows. He felt electricity around his feet and looked down to see red sparks flying from the sand each place he disturbed it.

He started to kick it, making it fly into the air on every side. He didn't understand the spell or its working, but he'd trash this spiral.

If nothing else, it would annoy Chen and maybe prompt his return.

That might give Brandon a chance.

L
iz took two steps before there was a flash of blue-green light.

The light was strange, like colored lightning. It made all the hairs on her body stand up, and Liz shivered involuntarily at its sudden energy. It reminded Liz of the light in the car that had presaged the appearance of the mark on her arm, and she wasn't very glad to see it again.

When the light faded, there was a dark-haired guy standing where the dock attached to the shore. He looked Italian and was also gorgeous, but wasn't Sloane. It was the guy who had been watching her and Brandon in Hale‘iwa from the porch on the other side of the road.

Liz held her ground, hoping he was
Pyr
.

He smiled with a serenity Liz didn't share.

He lifted his hand and she saw that he held a large quartz crystal. It was like one of her mom's crystals,
the ones she'd used for divining. He pointed it at the attacking dragon and a bolt of blue-green light fired from the end of the stone, like a laser.

Liz blinked in surprise and turned to look.

The red dragon was hit in the chest by the ray of light.

He screamed in pain, as if he had been struck by lightning. He arched his back and bared his teeth. He lost the rhythm of flight, his wings apparently useless, and plummeted toward the ocean.

Just when he should have splashed into the turquoise waters of the bay, he disappeared.

Liz's knees were shaking and she thought her heart was going to explode from beating so hard. She turned with some uncertainty to the dark-haired guy, who was considering his crystal with satisfaction. That smile still played over his lips and widened slightly when he looked at her.

“I am Marco, although they call me the Sleeper,” he said, his voice deep. He spoke as if he had all the time in the world, the absolute opposite of what Liz was feeling.

“You're
Pyr
, too,” she guessed, hoping it was true.

He nodded, his gaze sliding to the area where the other two dragons had recently been.

“And they're
Slayers
,” she guessed, remembering what Sloane had told her.

He nodded again. “A particularly treacherous kind of
Slayer
. Those two are the only ones who can spontaneously manifest elsewhere.”

“That's how they disappeared, then.” Liz pushed her wet hair back from her face and realized she was chilled. “Where'd they go?”

“Who can say?” Marco shrugged as if it didn't matter. “They also can disguise their scents.”

There was great news. Liz didn't share his indifference. “They were targeting me. Why? Because of Brandon?”

“Only the true
Pyr
have firestorms. Only true
Pyr
father more
Pyr
.” Marco met her gaze steadily. “Many
Slayers
believe that the weakest link in the process is the human mate.”

That wasn't the most reassuring thing Liz had heard.

She heaved a sigh. “You were in Hale‘iwa. How did you get here?”

Marco held out the crystal. “See the spark within it?”

Liz peered into the stone. There was a blue-green light flickering in its core, like a glint of lightning held captive. She nodded, wondering what it was.

“Darkfire,” Marco said, turning the stone in his hand as he watched the darkfire burn. “Trapped in this crystal. Obedient to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I am the heir of the Cantor. Darkfire is my realm and responsibility.”

“What does it do?”

“It introduces unpredictability, challenges expectations, turns possibilities into reality.” Marco considered her. He didn't blink, and his perusal was so steady
that she had the feeling he could read her thoughts. “Like you, your presence here, your powers, and your being part of the firestorm. There is a better reason for the
Slayers
to target you. You are more than human, aren't you?”

Liz felt herself blush. “I'm not sure what you mean,” she lied.

Marco nodded toward the burning dock by the parking lot. “I saw the wall of fire you created. Few humans can cast such spells.”

“I don't really want to talk about it.”

Marco smiled. “We do not need to talk about it. You know what you will have to do.” He gave her an intent look, one that reminded Liz of her grandmother's glare, then once again turned his attention to his crystal.

Liz wasn't feeling quite so calm. Her spells had worked only in the very short term against the dragon. That two
Slayers
who could spontaneously manifest were somewhere in the world, looking to eliminate her and the child she hadn't even believed she was carrying, was far from ideal. Her test was pending, and she'd had all the warning she would get. Never mind that the one
Pyr
who could defend her was in Hale‘iwa, talking to the old guy he called his friend, the guy Sloane had said was a
Slayer
.

“He is snared,” Marco said softly, without glancing up.

“Who?” Liz asked, even though she knew the answer.

“Brandon. You know this. You recognized the binding spell. It was cast by the red
Slayer
.”

Liz's heart sank. “Chen?”

Marco nodded.

“Then where's Brandon? He went to talk to him.”

Marco lifted one brow. “You also know that you are the only one who can aid him.”

“Me? I don't understand how I should help him. What about all of you
Pyr
? Don't dragons deal with dragon spells?”

“Not usually. In these times, we rely more on force and negotiation.” He smiled again with such tranquillity that Liz wanted to deck him. “Our dragon magic is mostly forgotten.”

“Who would forget their own magic?”

“Surely you cannot blame anyone for trying to forget when you have done the same?” Marco's voice was silky.

He knew. Liz glared at him, knowing that she must look fierce. He didn't know the whole story. He didn't understand what she'd seen. Some stranger wasn't going to tell her what to do and what choices to make.

If she listened to anyone, it would be Pele.

She knew that a Firedaughter had the power to heal.

She didn't know how much of her powers she retained, despite Pele's assurances. She could try to help Brandon and choke in the last minute, only getting them into more trouble.

Marco smiled, as if he had heard her thoughts.
“How apt he would find a Firedaughter,” he murmured. Before Liz could respond to that, he came to her side and offered the crystal to her. “Take this.”

Liz recoiled. “I can't use a crystal like that. They're for divining and healing. They're not
weapons
.”

Marco was—predictably—untroubled by her reaction. “Darkfire is a kind of fire, thus it is in your realm, too.”