Oceans of Fire (Drake Sisters 3)

"I'm sorry, lyubof maya, but this man cannot possibly live."

His gentle tone, a caress of black velvet, was almost her undoing and she turned on him, furious, fighting back tears. "Don't you tell me he won't live! The dolphins risked their lives for him and I'm not giving up. Just keep your enemies off my back while I do this."

It wasn't fair that she was angry with him. And maybe she wasn't. Her body was shaking with shock and overload of adrenaline. And she could feel her own wounds burning and throbbing. Mostly she felt fear for Gene and his family. She wasn't Libby or Elle or even Hannah with their tremendous powers. Even Sarah would be better than Abigail, but she was all Gene had. "And don't call me your love, either. I'm not your anything."

She raised her arms up over her head to bring the wind, to whisper a chant, a plea, a need for a joining, and she sent the wind out over the ocean to the cliff house where she knew her sisters waited. Where she knew, would always know, she was accepted, flawed or not, and they would always come to her aid when needed.

She heard the sirens fast approaching. She heard the boom of the sea and the song of the whales and her own heartbeat. There was a rhythm of life there, an ebb and flow that was continuous and strong. And she found Gene's heartbeat. Slow. Stuttering. Out of sync with the universal flow. "I've got you," she whispered softly. "I won't let you go."

Abigail didn't have a first aid kit, but she had the Drake magic. It welled up like a fountain, a power from deep within her, fed by the wind and sea. She could feel herself connecting with Hannah and Sarah, feel strength pouring into her as she placed one palm over Gene's head wound and the other over the small hole in his chest.

Wind rushed up from the surface of the sea. Dolphins leapt and somersaulted. At a distance, several whales breached. Power crackled in the air all around her. Through her. She felt Elle, her youngest sister, join in, the rush of power welling up from somewhere inside Abigail to burn down her arms and into her palms. Kate's strength added to the steady stream. Joley joined in, her voice strong on the wind, her power pouring into Abigail. And then, from a distance, Libby joined them, aiding Abigail with her tremendous gift of healing. The surge was so strong she shook with the force of it, the burning in her palms so pronounced it was difficult to keep her hands steady over the wounds.

The wind blasted her face and brought with it the fog, obscuring all vision on the water so that she was wrapped in a silvery cocoon, kneeling there on the pier with Gene lying so still and Aleksandr's body heat warming her. The relief nearly overwhelmed her. Hannah and Joley and Elle were often conduits for power, but never Abigail. It was both frightening and exhilarating to feel the strength and heat pour from her into the mortally wounded fisherman. It wasn't the same as her gift, but much stronger and more focused. She felt his skin burn beneath her palm as if absorbing healing properties. She felt his chest rise as if Gene struggled for breath and she knew he lived, although his injuries were grave.

As the power faded, her legs gave out and she sank back onto the pier shaking, arms and legs like lead. The terrible price for having and using power was a debilitating weakness afterward. She lay helpless, listening to the waves lapping at the pier and the wailing of the sirens as vehicles filled the parking lots along the harbor.

"Abbey." Aleksandr's voice was gentle. He took off his jacket and spread it over her violently shaking body. "The paramedics are here. How bad are you hurt?"

She looked up at him. The lines and planes of his face so achingly familiar to her. Tears blurred her vision. Fog swirled above her head. She knew her sisters lay on the captain's walk, or wherever they had been when they had completed the joining, just as drained of strength. The wind fluttered softly without the power of the Drake sisters carrying it and she heard the last notes of Joley's incredible voice fade away.

Footsteps thundered toward her. The wooden planks of the pier creaked and groaned in protest, shaking beneath the weight of people running. She wondered if the boards would give out and she'd be dropped back in the ocean for sharks to feast on. She was definitely hysterical. It wasn't a good time to be staring into Aleksandr's eyes and wondering why his lashes were so long. Or wondering why she could never get his face out of her dreams. Why she heard his voice calling to her across oceans. Abigail closed her eyes and turned away from him.

"You. Stand up slowly with your hands where I can see them. Back away from her." She recognized Jonas Harrington, the sheriff. He was using his voice of total authority, which he did often, but this time it carried a hint of something deadly in it.

Abbey's heart contracted. Her eyes locked with Aleksandr's. His expression was hard, his eyes as cold as the arctic sea. She knew he could kill a man swiftly and efficiently, going from stillness to action in the single beat of a heart.

"Don't hurt him." The words escaped, so low they were barely discernible, but Aleksandr could read the fear so apparent on her face. And it wasn't for him.

"This is the sheriff and I'm ordering you to get your hands where I can see them and back away from the woman."

"Please." She whispered the plea to the Russian.

Beside her, Aleksandr rose with unhurried ease. Calm. Cool. Never ruffled. He turned to face Jonas, his hands up, palms out.

"You." Jonas nearly spat the word. Jonas holstered his gun and reached down to check the pulse of the man lying so still. "Volstov. I should have known you'd be involved in this somehow. This man is dead. Who is he?"

"My partner. The ones who murdered him are out there somewhere." Aleksandr indicated the expanse of sea beyond the harbor.

Jonas examined Gene next. His eyes met the Russian's and he heaved a sigh as he went to Abigail. Jonas crouched down beside her, taking her hand. Jackson, one of the deputies, stood at his back, facing out toward sea, but his body posture was clearly protective. "Let's get the medics in here, Jackson."

It occurred to Abigail that Jackson was being drawn into the Drake family circle whether he wanted to be or not. Jonas always had been there. Tough. Uncompromising. Someone to count on when things got bad. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and held him there.

He glanced from her to Aleksandr and his face hardened perceptibly. "What's the damage, Abbey?"

She made an effort to tell him Gene needed immediate help. Jonas shook his head. "We'll get life flight en route, hon, we'll get him to San Francisco. The paramedics are with him. I want to take a look at you."

"Home." She managed the word, lying back to stare up at the wisps of drifting fog. She wanted to get home where she was safe. Surrounded by her sisters and protected by the walls of her house.

"I want them to examine you, Abbey, and don't give me any grief over it, either," Jonas said, moving back to give the paramedics room, but retaining possession of her hand.

"Libby," she said, trying to pull her hand away so she could push at the paramedics.

"Not Libby. She's going to be as weak as you are. Maybe weaker. Good old-fashioned medicine will have to do," Jonas replied firmly as he stroked back her hair.

Aleksandr leaned over her. "What did they look like?" His fingertips brushed droplets of seawater from her face with exquisite gentleness. The pads of his fingers slipped over her cheekbone and then her lower lip.

She wanted to tell him, but the moment his face was in front of hers, tears burned and she hurt, inside and out. His touch sent butterflies winging in her stomach. As hard as she tried to form the words to describe what she had witnessed, nothing would come out. She turned her face away, closing her eyes in desperation.

Jonas immediately shifted position so that Aleksandr was forced to move back and break contact with Abigail. "Can you talk, Abbey?" he asked.

His voice was so gentle she wanted to tell him to stop being nice. She really had to fight the tears. She shook her head.

"You'll have to question her later, Volstov," Jonas said abruptly.

Aleksandr lifted his gaze to the other man's face, a cold raking that would have given a lesser man pause

, but Jonas didn't even flinch.

"We're going to shift you, Abbey," the paramedic said.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times to clear her vision. She'd gone to school with Bob Thornton. She nodded and helped roll so they could look at the back of her legs and shoulder. It hurt more when she moved. She was suddenly acutely aware of the wounds, when before it was mostly the terrible lethargy that distressed her.

"The bullet sliced through her skin, Jonas, but it doesn't look too bad," Bob reported. "See here, it's a bit deeper through the muscle on her shoulder, but relatively shallow along her back."

"Thank God," Jonas said, relief clear in his voice. "What happened to her leg?"

"I'd guess a shark raked her making a pass."

"Damn it, Abbey." Jonas rubbed his thumb over her hand. "She looks pale, Bob. Are you sure she's going to be all right?"

Aleksandr made a small sound, a growling in his throat that might have been a protest of her injuries. He moved around Jonas to Abbey's other side. She kept her eyes firmly closed and he didn't make much noise when he moved, but she felt him brush her arm just before he circled her wrist and brought her palm against his thigh. She was shivering and couldn't stop no matter how hard she tried. His body felt warm against hers and unfortunately, tipped on her side the way she was, he was pressed close to the front of her. As soaked as she was, she was getting his immaculate suit wet as well.

"She's in shock, Jonas," Bob said. "Wouldn't you be? Someone shot her. A shark nearly got her. She pulled Gene out of the water, at least it looks that way. And there's a dead body here. I'd say she has reason to be pale. This is going to hurt, Abbey," he warned.

Whatever he used on her leg and back robbed her of every bit of air from her lungs. She almost lunged out from under the paramedic and Jonas, desperate to get away from the fire racing over her skin, but she ended up practically in Aleksandr's lap. He caught her in a firm grip and held her still while the paramedic worked on the wounds.

"I can do that, Volstov," Jonas offered. "I'm sure you have more important things to do." He paused for a moment as the other paramedics lifted the unconscious fisherman onto a gurney and raced him toward the helicopter. "Gene's safe now, Abbey," he added. "They're taking him to San Francisco."

"I wouldn't want to mess up your crime scene," Aleksandr replied before Jonas could shift him. "My partner is dead. There is not much I can do until Abbey tells me what she knows. You go on ahead and get what you have to get done, and I'll take care of Abbey."

"My crime scene people are the ones entering the crime scene. My officers know what they're doing."

Aleksandr ignored the edge to Jonas's voice, refusing to relinquish his place holding Abigail. "You'll have to go to the hospital," he said to her.

"Home, to Libby." She was adamant. "Jonas. Take me home."

"Don't worry, Abbey," Jonas reassured her. "As soon as you're cleared, I'll have Jackson take you, but I'm going to need answers as soon as you're feeling stronger."

"I can't clear her to go home," Bob protested. "Abbey, you know I can't do that. You need to be checked out by a doctor. You have serious wounds."

"Libby is a doctor," Jonas said. "Bob, you know she has to go home."

"I'll take her," Aleksandr said decisively. "If her sister is a doctor and she isn't in danger of bleeding to death, I'll take her to her house."

"No, you won't," Jonas said firmly. "You're going to stay here and tell me what the hell you're involved in that I have one dead body, another nearly dead, and Abigail Drake injured."

"And in danger," Aleksandr said.

2

ALEKSANDR ignored Jonas and carried Abigail off the pier. "I'm already wet. There's no need for the both of us to be soaked. In any case I have to ask her a few questions when she's feeling better." He kept walking, not giving Jonas a chance to protest as he carried her to the sheriff 's vehicle and slid into the backseat with her in his arms. He needed answers and getting into the inner sanctum of the Drake home was the only way he was going to get them. He refused to notice Jonas's glare and simply tightened his arms around Abigail.

Aleksandr rarely showed emotion on the outside. He was a master at hiding his feelings from others, but Abigail knew him. She knew he was enraged over his partner's death, although he seemed to take it quite calmly. She also knew Jonas was suspicious because Aleksandr hadn't given his partner's body more than a cursory inspection. But Jonas hadn't been there a few minutes earlier when Aleksandr had shoved the muzzle of his gun against her forehead and she had stared into death. He was hanging on to his control by his sheer discipline, but she felt his rage roiling just below the surface. She remained very still as he cradled her close to his chest.

"I notice you didn't ask any questions about Abbey and why she can barely move," Jonas said, slamming his door closed. "How much have you heard about the Drake sisters?"

Abigail winced. Aleksandr had firsthand knowledge of the strange gifts and talents she possessed. More than once he'd seen her use them and become drained of all energy. He knew her capabilities and weaknesses all too well. Tears burned and a small sound of despair slipped out.

Aleksandr nuzzled the top of Abigail's head. It seemed a miracle to be holding her in his arms again. He wasn't a man to believe in miracles, until he'd met her. Even with his partner lying dead on the pier, and rage and the need for vengeance consuming him, the moment he'd had a clear enough head to recognize her, some small measure of hope had entered his heart.

He was used to concealing his feelings. In Russia, everything was political and the wrong expression, the whisper of scandal, anything at all could be the end of his career, and now, with the stakes so high, he was grateful for that training. He and Danilov had stumbled onto something bigger than they had anticipated and it had gotten Danilov killed. The last thing he needed was the distraction of Abigail Drake, but if Jonas thought to be rid of Aleksandr, either in the investigation or with Abigail, he was wrong. Jonas might be dating Abbey now--he certainly acted proprietary around her--but Aleksandr had the prior claim. He wasn't going to hand her over without a fight any more than he would back off of his investigation.

"Abigail is engaged to me." He announced it without hesitation, staring down into her face, at the twin crescents of red-gold lashes, willing her to look at him.

Her eyes snapped open and she blinked up at him. Aleksandr could see the flames building in her eyes. Abigail had always reminded him of the sea, calm and peaceful and soothing, or turbulent and wild. She walked away from most arguments and simply disappeared rather than fight, but she had red hair for a reason. She was quite capable of rising up like a silent shark out of the depths and taking a big bite unexpectedly. At that moment he was eternally grateful for the Drake curse of weakness after using their powers.

"That's impossible," Jonas said.

Aleksandr held Abbey's blazing stare with one of his own. He wasn't about to back down, wanting her to know there was more than one reason for his being in Sea Haven and he wasn't going to go away. "I assure you, it is not."

Abigail shook her head and closed her eyes again, groaning softly.

Aleksandr looked down at her face. He remembered every curve, the feel of her skin, the laughter in her eyes. The love. He wasn't going to let her get away from him a second time. He didn't want to fight with, or frighten her, but he was angry with her. Angry that she hadn't given him a second chance, angry that she'd nearly gotten herself killed. Angry that her American boyfriend would be sitting in the front seat telling him what he could or couldn't do. That she would even have an American boyfriend. Any boyfriend at all. Her heart should have been locked up, devastated without him, the way his had been without her. He had the sudden urge to shake her and he knew that wasn't a good sign. His control was slipping and that was a dangerous thing.

"How strange that she wouldn't have said a word to me about an engagement," Jonas said. "Or to any of her sisters." He didn't bother to keep the note of disbelief out of h

is voice.

"Very strange," Aleksandr agreed. Abigail tensed in his arms, but the effort to fight him was apparently too exhausting and she relaxed again, her expression stubborn. If she kept that look on her face he might be tempted to take advantage of her weakness and kiss her right in front of her new lover. He shoved the thought away, feeling murderous. It was enough to have lost Danilov without discovering that another man had taken his woman from him.

"What happened tonight, Volstov?" Jonas made a point of staring at him in the rearview mirror. "Is Abbey a part of this?"

"No." Aleksandr was grateful for the interruption of his thoughts. "I was as shocked to find Abbey on the scene as you were." He bent over her, rubbing at what he hoped was a smudge and not a bruise forming between her eyes.

She managed to bring up her hand to slap at his arm. He waited until she settled down and went right back to rubbing with the pad of his finger. Small, round caresses. Gentle. Stroking. Telling her with his touch that he wasn't going anywhere. The faint mark wouldn't go away. She had pale, almost alabaster skin and he remembered she bruised easily. It was a hell of a way to announce his return, but like the mark, he was back in her life to stay and she was going to have to deal with their past whether she liked it or not.

"So what are you and your partner doing in my county?" Jonas asked. "You introduced yourself to me, but you neglected to say you were going to leave dead bodies in our harbor."

"We've been working this case for some time and we've traced three shipments in the past two and a half years to this coast. There's been a steady stream of stolen antiquities, including an impressive collection of jewelry, going out of Russia. My partner, Andre Danilov, managed to get a job on a fishing boat out of the harbor and was keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. We've known for some time that artifacts have been smuggled through a route here, but this was the first time we knew the actual freighter and when it would arrive."

Jonas was silent for a moment and then he sighed. "Gene Dockins came to me a few months ago and said he was concerned something was happening out at sea with one of the boats--the Treasure Chest. The captain is a man named John Fergus and I've known him several years. He's never given us any trouble. Several local businessmen own the boat and all of them have lived in the area most of their lives. Most own other businesses. I did a little discreet inquiry down around the harbor and turned the matter over to the coast guard, but, to my knowledge, they didn't turn up anything unusual. Gene didn't say anything further to me and I presumed the matter was taken care of. Obviously, I was wrong."