Ember's Kiss (37 page)

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Authors: Deborah Cooke

BOOK: Ember's Kiss
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But there was more. Along with the lava erupting from the fissure in the earth was a woman made of flame. Her hair was long and dark, and the orange flower in her hair burned brightly. She was dressed in fire, made of lava and flame, and her eyes were fathomless shadows.

“Pele,” Liz whispered, and bowed her head in deference. “It was not my intent to disturb you.”

Brandon understood that he was seeing the goddess of the volcano.

“There are times, Firedaughter, when I do not mind disruption.” Pele became larger and larger, looming behind Jorge, her expression filling with fury. She raised her hands high behind the
Slayer
, then exhaled a hot plume of laughter.

Jorge fell back in surprise, tripping over his own tail.

Pele laughed.

Then she seized him with burning hands. Jorge screamed in pain as the smell of seared flesh filled the air. He shifted shape, rotating rapidly between forms, but the goddess didn't let him go. Pele laughed and kissed him with gusto, then threw him back into the fissure.

She blew Liz and Brandon a kiss, then dove into the brilliant orange pool of lava. Jorge gave one last yell; then he was drawn down into the depths of the earth by the retreating goddess.

No sooner had she disappeared than Brandon heard the massive wave breaking on the beach and rolling toward them with incredible force. Liz pivoted and called to the sea, her spell coaxing Brandon's wave to become bigger and more powerful. She might not have been able to summon it herself, but she could shape it and guide it.

He caught Liz in his grasp and leapt into the air, beating his wings hard so that he carried them above the tsunami.

The wall of water slammed into the beach, deluging everything and running down into the fissure of the volcano. Steam rose in billows as the eruption was halted and the earth stilled at the cooling touch of the ocean. The wave charged inland.

“The people,” Liz whispered as the water advanced. “No one can get hurt!”

She raised her hands in supplication and they called to the water together, each in their own way. Liz's spell calmed the sea, and Brandon was pleased to see the third point on the pentacle that marked her flesh begin to glow.

She let the ocean flood the one beach, the beach that had been occupied only by the
Pyr
, to spend its force, then urged it to recede. Brandon hovered over the glistening sand, holding his mate and letting her complete her test.

He knew that Liz was calling to the fire because the volcano's tempest slowed to a rumble, the lava drawing back into the earth.

She spread her arms again, her exhaustion clear, and called another spell. Brandon watched the earth tremble below them. It heaved and shook, then the fissure that had opened was shut. The beach stilled with a last shiver.

Both
Slayers
were gone.

The fourth point on Liz's pentacle began to shine, as if touched by sunlight. The mark on her arm sparkled once, then disappeared completely.

And to Brandon's delight, the top point of the pentacle on Liz's skin illuminated. It shone with an inner radiance that lit the whole pentacle before the light faded. Afterward, the mark looked just like a tattoo.

“You did it!” he cried in jubilation, and Liz laughed.

“I couldn't have done it without you.”

They laughed together and he soared high into the sky with his mate in his grasp.

“One more thing,” Liz said, and laid the flat of her hand against Brandon's newest wound. He hovered in place, knowing what she would do. He gritted his teeth as she seared the place where he had removed that third scale, the one that Jorge had just broken. He endured the pain because he knew her touch would ensure his healing.

When he opened his eyes, Liz was sparkling in his arms, and he felt a sense of well-being beyond anything he'd ever experienced. He was whole and he was healed; he'd had his firestorm and won his mate.

Forever.

Brandon saw the other
Pyr
hovering high overhead,
waiting for them. They held their partners and their children, safe in the sky. Sirens were blaring and car horns were honking, but he could see from his vantage point that the coast had had only a small amount of flooding. He pivoted and flew high into the sky, intent on being alone with the woman he loved.

They had defeated the
Slayer
who had tried to destroy Brandon, and Liz had passed her test. Both were cause for celebration.

Celebration dragon style.

Brandt strolled the Australian beach where he had often met Kay, once upon a time. It was night and he was alone, just the starry sky overhead and the surf pounding on the beach. He'd stopped at a bar for some courage, but he didn't think he was really going to need it.

Kay wasn't here.

The beach had changed in twenty-five years, of course. There were more buildings clustered on the road nearby, and they were taller than they once had been. The beach, even in the evening, carried the scent of many people who had been there during the day, instead of the few who had once appreciated it. It had been an overlooked haven back in the day, and it had been a secret place for Kay and Brandt.

He remembered the heat of their early encounters. He smiled in recollection of the passion and the power of the firestorm, the sparkle of Kay's eyes and the
sound of her laughter. They'd made love on this beach when they'd had it to themselves.

Even after they'd married, they'd met here when she was afraid or sad. He'd found her here the first time he'd answered a call to a burning building that had subsequently collapsed. Two firemen had died, but not him. There would have been a third lost if he hadn't been able to shift shape to save both his coworker and himself.

Kay had heard half the news and come here, terrified. She'd been pregnant and fearful of being left alone.

He hadn't managed to prevent that.

Brandt kicked the sand as he walked. She'd come here when her mom died and he'd held her as she cried.

She'd come here after she'd seen his dragon and after they'd argued, but he hadn't had the nerve to approach her that time lest he hear more. He'd watched her, then turned away, not knowing how to begin.

They had said so many hurtful things.

Brandt wasn't sure why impulse had brought him here now. He sure didn't want to hear any of those things again, and he didn't imagine that Kay still came here. She lived up in the hills now, far from the beach and the sea. He'd waited two nights, and knew he should go back south. He should go back to work, forget the past, try to make a future.

He turned to go back to his truck and he saw her.

Kay was getting out of her car. As he watched, she kicked off her sandals and walked out onto the sand, the tension sliding out of her shoulders. She didn't look much different to him, even if there was silver in her hair along with the gold. She'd cut it short, just as she'd always threatened to do. She was still slim and graceful and the sexiest woman alive.

Her smile was sadder than he would have liked.

He froze in place, watching her, knowing that she thought she was alone. She tipped her head back and looked at the stars, just the way she always had. Her skirt fluttered around her knees and she swung her sandals in one hand.

He knew the moment she realized she wasn't the only one on the beach.

They stared at each other for an endless moment, a hundred horrible words from the past between them. He lifted one hand and she looked away, then she swallowed and walked straight toward him. Brandt braced himself for a lecture.

She stopped six feet away and inhaled sharply. “You're drunk.”

As blunt as ever. He had missed that.

“No.” Brandt shook his head. “I've had a drink, but I don't know why. There's not enough of it in the world to make me forget.”

“You want to forget?” she asked, her tone sharp. “Forget what?”

“Forget how much I hurt you.” Brandt sighed.
“Forget that I did everything wrong and lost everything that mattered.”

Kay blinked and nodded, averting her gaze. She stared at the sea. “I'd like to forget sometimes that I could say such hurtful things.” She looked back at him, her eyes bright. “Maybe forget that I can be too proud to make anything come right again.”

Brandt was shocked by her implication. He stared at her, unable to believe that the chance he'd wanted could be his. He was sure that if he said anything, he'd say the wrong thing and destroy this opportunity before it even was fully real.

“He phoned me today,” Kay said, and there was no doubt in Brandt's mind who she meant. She smiled a little. “He says he's met a girl.”

“He had his firestorm,” Brandt said and she looked at him. “I felt it.” Now he was the one who looked out to the horizon. “I wanted to go, but Erik told me not to.”

“Erik?”

“Leader of the
Pyr
. A guy I should have listened to years ago.” Brandt shrugged and his throat was tight. “I thought I'd try to do things differently, maybe not screw up my son's life again.”

Kay tilted her head to look at him. “You think this Erik can be a better father to your son than you? I think if you'd been around, you'd have been a great father.”

Brandt shook his head. “I would have just ruined it, Kay. That's my talent. The only thing I do well is fight
fires.” He forced a smile, not daring to hope for more than this. “It's good to see you.”

Kay put her hand on his arm and her touch electrified him, as it always had. “Is there someone else?”

“There never will be,” Brandt admitted. “That's just how it is. I love you.”

He couldn't hold her gaze, not when she looked so surprised. It was his fault that she was surprised by his feelings; another failure on his part.

Brandt glanced down at her hand on his arm and saw that the ring he had put on her finger was still there. He met Kay's gaze in surprise, and her smile broadened.

“I understand that well enough,” she said softly, and her eyes started to sparkle. “I think maybe that once a woman has fallen in love with a dragon shape shifter, there's no going back to normal men. They just don't have it going on.”

“You mean you'd give me another chance?”

“If you'll give me one. I'm sorry, Brandt.”

Brandt took her hand in his. “I'm sorry, Kay. I'm sorry for everything.”

“Don't be sorry for everything,” she said. “There was so much that was good. Be sorry that we were stupid enough to let it go without a fight.” Then Kay reached up and kissed his cheek. Her fingers were on his jaw. Her eyes were full of stars. His Kay was forgiving him, and Brandt couldn't believe his luck. Her chaste kiss started his world spinning again.

“We're going to be grandparents, Brandt,” she said
with her usual brisk efficiency. “We're far too young for it, of course, but there's nothing to be done once the firestorm is consummated.”

“I suppose not.” He smiled despite himself, his heart beginning to thunder.

“I booked a flight to O‘ahu to see Brandon compete this week. Meet Liz. Surprise them both, undoubtedly.” Her grip tightened on his hand and her eyes shone. “Why don't we go together?”

Brandt bent and kissed her thoroughly, trying to put twenty-five years of denied passion into his touch. “Are you really ready to live with a dragon?” he asked long moments later.

“I think I'm due a little adventure,” Kay said with a smile. “And I've had some time to come to terms with the idea.” She grimaced. “I'm sorry that I said what I did. I was surprised and frightened.”

“Not without cause. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

Kay smiled again, her expression revealing that she'd seen to his heart, as always. “Are dragons supposed to be afraid?”

“Only when they have everything to lose.”

Kay reached for him then, offering all he wanted and more, and it was a long time before their kiss ended.

Brandt glanced at the starry sky overhead, then back to Kay. “How about a ride to Hawai‘i?” he asked.

Kay's mouth opened in astonishment. She looked between him and the sky, then back at him again.
“Really? Of course—you can fly! That sounds marvelous.”

“It is. Trust me, Kay.”

“Oh, Brandt, I do.” She pulled his head down for another kiss, a kiss that seared his very soul.

Just the way the firestorm had done.

Liz wasn't really surprised that the
Pyr
congregated in Sloane's suite at the resort, or that they were proud of what had been achieved. They demanded the whole story be recounted three times, and they were clearly annoyed that they hadn't been able to contribute more. Liz knew that their generous sharing of their knowledge had been a key to their success.

They congratulated Brandon and thumped his back. Someone had ordered wine and Sloane was in the middle of everything, doing dragon first aid. The room was filled with conversation and relief, and sleeping children were nestled into several of the chairs. It was late afternoon.

What Liz didn't expect was for Erik's daughter to rouse herself from slumber on the couch. The little dark-haired girl couldn't be more than three years old, but she had a solemnity about her that was unusual in a toddler. She marched directly toward Liz, her green eyes as vivid in hue as those of her father, looking like a child on a mission.

Erik watched Zoë, so completely still that he could have been frozen in place.

Garrett also watched her progress, nodding approval.

Liz crouched down when Zoë stopped in front of her. The little girl didn't say anything, just dug in the pocket of her pink overalls. Liz blinked when Zoë presented her with a black scale, a dragon scale, that was edged in orange.

“It's one of Brandon's,” Liz said, prickling with awareness that the
Pyr
were watching closely. “Where did you get it?”

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