Ember's Kiss (9 page)

What if he was right behind her?

The dragon bellowed, much closer than Liz would have preferred.

She heard the leathery beat of his wings even as she ran faster. He flew over her and breathed fire, his crackling stream of flame barring Liz from her goal. She made to leap over the flames, but he snatched her up easily and soared into the sky.

“No!” Liz cried. “Brandon!”

The dragon gained altitude with dizzying speed. Liz struggled against his grip, but there was no escaping him. She kicked him in that same spot again, but he only snarled. He passed her to his back claw and she
couldn't reach his belly anymore. No matter how she bit or punched him, her efforts made no difference to her plight.

“Put me down!” she shouted. “I have to find Brandon!”

The dragon ignored her, heading straight up into the sky.

Liz fumed. She looked down and knew that if he dropped her from this height, she'd be in serious trouble. She looked up, unable to help admiring his grace and power.

The odd thing was that he was missing three scales; there were three places where his skin was exposed. Liz wondered whether they were shed as a natural process of renewal or whether he'd been injured. The exposed skin was both angry and red, as if it had been burned. She tapped one of the scales that she could reach, noting how hard it was and how precisely it fit with its neighbors. Would his scales grow back?

Then she shook her head, amazed that she could even be thinking about the details of dragon physiology, given her current situation. Liz looked down, astonished by how quickly the island was falling away beneath them. She could see the reef around the island, but the turquoise water was cloudy from the earthquake.

What had happened to Brandon?

Her crazy suspicion couldn't possibly be right.

Could it?

Liz looked up and watched the dragon's massive
black wings beating against the morning sky. She looked down and the residence where her room had been wavered in a cloud of dust, like a mirage in the desert. It then cracked down its length and collapsed. It fell in slow motion, emitting another puff of dust.

“Brandon!” Liz whispered, uncertain how he could have survived if he had remained in the building. She bit her lip, devastated to think that he was lost.

On the other hand, what if he'd survived because he could become a dragon? Liz looked up, still fighting the idea. She would much, much rather that Brandon just be a man.

The earth shook vehemently one more time, dust rising in Kane‘ohe itself as buildings collapsed. The dragon flew directly toward the town, and she felt urgency in his increased speed. She saw a fissure open in the highway, creating a crack in the side of the ancient volcano. The gap opened from the sea, spread across the road, then rose along the side of the mountain with ridiculous ease.

There was a rumbling sound, the most ominous sound Liz had ever heard. She gasped as the crack spread and spawned a second far to the right. A large chunk of the mountainside trembled, then sheared off. It was dark, the black rock of cooled lava tearing aside vegetation as the cascade of rocks shot toward the ocean.

Liz realized with horror that it would crash on the road, then continue into the ocean.

There was one house standing in the path of the
avalanche. A woman was on the porch, staring upward, her expression horrified. The torrent of rock roared toward her, and she picked up her child. She turned to run, but Liz could see that it was too late. The avalanche was moving too fast.

Except that the dragon descended with dizzying speed. He soared down toward the woman and child. He snatched them up, racing into the sky. The woman swore softly, her eyes wide.

He'd grabbed them in the nick of time. The avalanche smashed into the house, not thirty feet below them, pushing everything into the sea. Liz watched in amazement as the avalanche continued deep into the bay before it stopped.

The child began to hiccup and cry. The woman was panting and pale. She looked at Liz, at the dragon, and then fainted.

The dragon spiraled down to the earth, which had stilled. He set the pair down on the road, on the side of their home that was closest to the town of Kane‘ohe. He looked at the child and inclined his head, then carried Liz into the air again.

Liz was thinking furiously. She remembered a story that had been in the news a few years ago, the one about dragons that she'd known her mother would have loved. She'd ignored it because fantastical beings were part of the life she'd left behind. Liz eyed the dragon and acknowledged that her past had caught up with her. She tugged her cell phone out of her purse, but the local network was down.

But if the dragon had saved her, and that woman and child, why hadn't he saved Brandon? There was one obvious conclusion, but Liz would explore every other possibility before she accepted it.

Where could Brandon have gone? Was he safe already?

Wait. That article had been about dragon shape shifters.

Liz thought of the dragon she'd seen the night before, silhouetted against the moon. She wondered suddenly how Brandon had even gotten to Coconut Island in the middle of the night. The ferry had a schedule and only did night runs by arrangement—the kid had joked with Maureen that she was making him work extra to bring their party back. There hadn't been another ferry after they'd come back, and none before that she knew of. Did Brandon have a friend with a boat?

And where had this dragon been, between her sighting of him and now?

Far too many facts were pointing to the conclusion Liz wanted to avoid. What about Brandon's eye? It had looked just like this dragon's eye. What if that had been the beginning of a transformation? She had sensed that there was something unusual about him, something that made her feel a kinship with him.

What if Brandon had a bigger secret than she did?

To Liz's relief, the dragon descended toward the ocean side of Coconut Island. The earthquake had stopped, the whole island seeming to hum in the aftermath.
Fire alarms were ringing and a siren blared. Smoke rose from the one residence that had collapsed, and there were people shouting.

The dragon landed with graceful ease, setting Liz down with care. He backed away from her, their gazes locked. She wanted to ask him who he was, but he was large and powerful. Offending a dragon could be a foolish act.

Or a final one.

“Liz?” Maureen shouted in the distance, sounding panicky. “Liz, where are you?”

“Here!” Liz called back. “I'm okay.”

She looked at the dragon and he nodded once, just as he had to the child. It was a regal gesture, and she had to admit that he was a beautiful creature. His gaze was simmering, indicative of his fearsome power and wrath. Then he took flight.

Watching him made her idea of dragon shape shifters seem whimsical. This primal creature couldn't be Brandon.

But then, where
was
Brandon?

Liz had to find out. She pivoted and ran down the beach toward her friend's voice.

Before she stepped off the beach, Liz looked back. That black dragon sailed high in the sky, the steady beat of his wings taking him north with tremendous speed. There was no one else on the beach to see him. He had disappeared from view by the time she found Maureen.

But he had been magnificent.

And he had saved her. Liz knew that she owed this dragon a debt, whoever he was.

Brandon had failed.

Not only hadn't he been able to control his dragon when it really mattered, but his dragon's presence had ruined everything. His firestorm, which he'd been given because of his nature, had been trashed by his dragon's appearance. His dragon hadn't been tamed or destroyed or banished; it was stronger and more violent than ever.

At least he'd been able to use the dragon's power to help Liz. He'd hoped to use his strength for good in saving that woman and child, but his triumph had been short-lived. His dragon had been all for destroying the woman and child, burning them or injuring them. Brandon hadn't wanted to leave them there on the road, but he'd had to get his dragon away from anyone who looked like lunch.

Similarly, he hadn't trusted himself to linger with Liz.

He might have shifted shape and gone back to her to explain, but he couldn't find that shimmery impulse within himself. He couldn't shift back. His dragon was raging and potent, Brandon's control so thin that it might have been a veneer. He didn't trust his dragon and the violence of that creature's urges.

He'd had to leave Liz ASAP.

There was no future with Liz, not with his dragon out of control. He'd never hurt her, which meant he
had to stay away from her. He couldn't be in her presence without being sure the dragon would heed his command. If she learned his truth, she'd be horrified, just as his mom had been by his dad's true nature.

Liz would be furious when she learned that he had hidden it from her, just like his mom. The flames of the firestorm had been extinguished, so it had been satisfied, which meant that Liz would have his son. When she realized she was pregnant and that he'd known in advance that she would conceive, she'd feel betrayed, because he hadn't told her the truth ahead of time.

Their relationship was doomed even before it started, and all because of his dragon.

Somehow his dragon had gotten stronger instead of being defeated.

And it was bloodthirsty.

Brandon blamed himself for everything that had gone wrong. He should have talked to Liz beforehand, but the power of the firestorm had swept everything from its path. There'd been only Liz and the firestorm and its pulsing desire.

Brandon had been cheated by his secret nature and that made him mad. His dragon loved his anger and coaxed the flames to burn higher. In this form, vengeance made the most sense to him. The evil side of him had destroyed his dream forever—which only made him want to tear and slash and destroy everything around him. It made him want to hunt down his father and demand a toll for the legacy inflicted on
him. It made him want to hunt down all the
Pyr
in the world, to slaughter them individually and ensure they paid a painful price for his loss.

That a dragon solution made the most sense to him wasn't exactly reassuring.

The timing was also terrible. Any day now could be a competition day—it would depend on the waves. To surf the Pipe without getting killed or maimed would require all of Brandon's concentration. This was his chance to claim some of the prize money and establish his career.

He needed his dragon to disappear.

Brandon still couldn't feel the shimmer that heralded the shift between forms. The dragon was too strong and had no intention of being easily put aside. Brandon had to tame his dragon somehow, reclaim his life and focus.

That he could seek out Liz when he succeeded was all the incentive he needed.

A
s Brandon flew and couldn't find any vestige of the blue shimmer inside himself, he tried to think of a logical solution. How could he push back his dragon and restore the usual balance of power between them?

The secret might be in the waves. The reason Brandon had taken to surfing was that it was an activity that made him feel in tune with the earth and the ocean, and it tuned out his dragon. He was completely fixed on his human form and its powers when he surfed a challenging break, and that concentration seemed to keep his dragon at bay.

So he studied the breaking waves as he flew along the coast. He focused on the pattern and the rhythm. The waves were high and erratic, because of either the eclipse or the earthquake. There'd be no competition today—the surf was too wild to be safe.

That was lucky.

The better news was that the road wasn't clogged with spectators now that the competition was postponed. Brandon could shift without being witnessed.

Assuming he could shift.

His dragon was simmering still, but not so ascendant in his thoughts. His sense was that it had retreated to a cave—although it was still annoyed and watchful. He felt that he could summon the shift now that he wasn't as riled up. He did some breathing exercises as he flew a bit farther, concentrating on what he had to do.

Brandon landed to one side of the road on a quiet section at the north end of the island. He tried to shift shape on impact, but the blue shimmer didn't dance over his skin as it usually did.

He refused to freak out.

He ignored the way his dragon laughed, a throaty chuckle that reminded him of the promise of vengeance.

No. Brandon wasn't going there. He didn't care if there were other
Pyr
in the world. He didn't want to know them or find them, much less maim and kill them. His dragon could keep those ideas.

He had a surfing contest to win.

Brandon tried again to shift, again without success. His heart began to beat more quickly in fear. He'd never thought much about shifting shape. It was something he could do instinctively, and had been able to do simply by thinking about it since he'd been a teenager.

He'd never been unable to shift back to human form.

Brandon fought to school his response, knowing that his anxiety wouldn't help anything. He felt like his dragon was laughing at him, mocking him with its ascendancy. He roared and spread his wings, stretching high, then closed his eyes and focused on shifting.

It didn't happen as quickly as it should have.

He had time to panic.

Then the shimmer slid over his scales like a cool tide of water crashing over him. It was like the blue crush of a wave, driving him down into sensation and almost drowning him in its intensity. The familiar power surged through his body, asserting the change.

Brandon could have wept with relief.

Even better, a car came around the curve just when he'd assumed his human form again. He'd narrowly missed being seen in dragon form—which made him think about the woman and her child in Kane‘ohe. He hoped they were okay.