Air Bound (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 3)

"He didn't want me to shoot him with the dart gun. He may have thought I killed Boris," she said.

He fastened her jeans. "Don't make excuses for him. If I could find him on the ocean floor I'd kill him all over again."

She laughed and then caught at her sides. "Don't. That hurts."

He found it astonishing that she could laugh about anything. The wind shifted, slapping at the yacht hard. The smile faded from her face and she struggled into a sitting position.

"They're here, Maxim. We're surrounded."

"I know, baby," he admitted softly.

14

ONE moment there was no sign whatsoever and then the air around them was filled with warning. Maxim knew the men had come from the boat in the distance. He hadn't detected them because they'd come at him from under the water.

He took Airiana's hand. Don't make a sound. Sound travels at night, especially on open water. We're going to have to get off.

He felt the protest in her mind, but she didn't voice it aloud or even to him telepathically. She nodded her head and turned on the lounger, testing her body's ability to move. She placed each foot cautiously on the deck and stood. He waited until she got her footing.

One of the men will board the yacht, stop it and let the anchor down. They don't yet know the situation on board. They think they're facing the crew as well as a security force. Once the yacht is no longer moving, the rest will come on board fast.

This isn't Sorbacov's people.

No. I'm fairly certain Evan sent his men to retrieve you.

He really is going to keep coming after me, isn't he? Even once you take me home?

He can try, Maxim said, his tone grim.

Evan could send an army, but once Airiana was back on her farm, she'd have his two brothers as well as him to look after her. One Prakenskii might fall, but not three of them. They'd make that farm a fortress.

I don't want you to move any more than you have to. You're going to need all your strength. We're going to get to the railing nearest the anchor. Can you walk that far? I'd carry you, but I need my hands free.

I can walk. Can you reload the dart gun for me?

He took the small gun and pushed in the last of the darts. After these, the only ones I have left are lethal.

She held out her hand for the small harness with the rest of the darts protected in the loops. He took it to mean if she needed them, she'd use them. He handed it to her silently and Airiana fastened it around her waist, securing it through the loops of her jeans.

Someone's on the deck, moving toward the control room, she said.

He'd felt the disturbance in the air as well. Air was everywhere. Evan's men definitely needed to breathe it, and there was no avoiding it. When they displaced it, moved through it, or even stood still in it, he could see their exact location, just as if he had a map laid out in front of him.

Stay low. We need to move now.

I think I should tell you I'm pretty scared, Maxim. Not of these men, I have no doubt you could take out every one of them if you had to, but I really hate the water.

I won't let anything happen to you.

Airiana knew he wouldn't, not if he could help it. She followed him across the deck, crouching as low as possible when every step she took hurt. Moving hurt. Bending low. Even breathing hurt. She hadn't seen too much evidence of him being wounded, but she was certain he was. He couldn't have gone against the entire crew and security force without having some wound. If he didn't complain, she wasn't going to either. Well, she didn't mind so much voicing her opinion on swimming in the sea at night. That was just plain common sense.

He indicated the deck and she slid down to sit with her back against the rail, waiting for whatever happened. It didn't take long. The yacht slowed even more and eventually came to a halt. The thick chain attached to the anchor fed out over the side, making certain the yacht stayed put.

Immediately, hooks came up over the railing on the deck below them as well as on their deck. Maxim dropped low, fading as he did until he appeared part of the deck itself. She remembered to wrap herself in air, to blur her lines so that anyone glancing her way wouldn't see her.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, shaking inside, but her hands were steady on the dart gun. It wasn't just her on the deck. Maxim was there as well and he would put himself in harm's way to protect her. She wasn't going to do less for him.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a man in a wet suit slide onto the deck just a few feet from Maxim's head. He slid the tank from his shoulders and laid it carefully on the deck in front of him. Her heart jumped. It looked as if the tank was actually wedged up against Maxim from her angle, but the man looked toward the railing where a second man and then a third slipped aboard.

They maintained a distance apart of about six feet. She knew by the way the air moved that there were three others on the same deck with them. She took a breath and let it out.

Are you okay? Don't move, baby. They can't see us here, they aren't even looking.

He's so close to you.

The first man had stayed where he was, signaling the others to check the bar and around the lounge area. Clearly he was the leader. They talked mainly with their hands and she figured Maxim understood the signals. She wished she did. Sitting there feeling exposed and vulnerable just a few feet from one of them was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She had to fight the urge to run continually. Twice the man seemed to look right at her.

The five men systematically and thoroughly checked the deck and every nook and cranny on it. The leader stayed where he was, covering the others. She actually felt beads of perspiration running down her body when the air was quite cool.

She held her breath when they reached the door of the den. This was the owner's sun deck and most of the rooms were devoted to his pleasure. Two men flanked either side of the door while a third stood in front of it. The leader nodded, and the man in the middle stealthily opened the door. He went through it fast, the others following.

She couldn't imagine what they thought finding so many men tied and drugged. One returned to signal to the leader. He spoke softly into a radio and then nodded his head at the man who had come out of the den.

What are they doing? Her heart pounded. Adrenaline rushed. She knew, she didn't know how she knew, but she did. The leader had just told his men to kill everyone in the den.

She heard Maxim swearing in her mind. He rose up like a wraith, right in front of the leader, his knife in his hand, slashing across the exposed throat and catching the body as it began to topple toward the deck.

Airiana didn't wait for him. She pushed herself to her feet and ran across the deck toward the open door of the den. Movement definitely attracted the eye, and she'd forgotten all about the other two men who were searching the deck. She nearly ran right into one of them and the only thing that saved her was the fact that she clutched the dart gun in her hands and squeezed the trigger point-blank into his chest, right over his heart.

The man fell heavily, his rifle dropping from nerveless hands, clattering on the deck, loud in the silence of the night. Hard hands bit at her, lifting her over the body and shoving her back away from the door of the den and down low. She recognized Maxim's scent or she would have blasted him with the dart gun as well.

We have to get in there. They're killing everyone and they're totally helpless. There were the tears again, clogging her throat. She felt desperate and a little crazy, the adrenaline surging, the fear for the unconscious men eating at her along with guilt and fury that these intruders would be so merciless.

The other assailant searching the deck faded into the shadows, but his gun burned white-hot, the flashes terrifying as he fired round after round, spraying the upper deck. Bullets hit the bar behind them and riddled the railing. Had Maxim not pulled her down, she would have been dead.

As the rifle turned away from them still spitting bullets, Maxim threw his knife. The blade hit with deadly accura

cy--she didn't think he could ever miss with his knife. The gurgling sound was terrible, a death rattle she knew would haunt her. The gun continued to fire as the man dropped to the deck, his finger squeezing off rounds until the life drained completely out of him.

Maxim signaled for her to stay where she was. He shifted positions, a ghost really, a phantom of the night, gliding in deadly silence toward the open den door where two men lay prone, assault rifles at the ready.

The third man slithered onto the deck like a snake, making his way, using elbows and toes, to his fallen comrade. When he reached the fallen man, he felt for a pulse and turned him slightly, just enough to see the knife protruding from his neck. He rolled toward the railing and the darker shadows there.

He rolled right into Maxim, who had clearly anticipated the move and was waiting. She caught no more than a small movement as he cut the man's throat and was gone, blending in, moving stealthily toward the overhang. She forced her eyes to see him, to follow the movement as he became a spider, clinging to the underside of the overhang.