Oceans of Fire (Drake Sisters 3)

"But how would it have gotten in this cave?" Abigail asked.

"I think that's a very good question." The two shivering women caught Aleksandr's attention. "Forgive me, we must get you somewhere warm."

"We'll have to take the torch because we don't have a flashlight," Abigail said. "Come on, Joley, just a little bit more and we'll be warm."

Joley followed her sister to the entrance to the stairs. "You want me to go up that?" The steps were cut into the cliff itself, very narrow and steep, winding upward into the rock. It was dark and the overhead ceiling dripped in places and hung ominously low in others. She stepped back, shaking her head. "I'll face the hotshot hit man."

Abigail put her arm around Joley. "I know you don't like closed-in places, but the stairs should connect at some point with Kate's underground stair system and lead us to the basement of the old mill."

"Abbey can lead the way and I'll be right behind you," Aleksandr reassured Joley. "I will sing you a Russian song." He laughed softly. "A lullaby, it's all I know how to sing."

Joley took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm really not a chicken most of the time. I just have this problem with confined spaces."

"No one thinks you're a chicken, Joley," Abigail said. "Let's just get it over with. Hannah and Elle would have called Jonas and he'll be losing his mind out over the cliffs thinking we're dead or drowned." She started up the steep stone stairs, holding the torch with Joley's fist clenched in the hem of her wet shirt.

"If he calls search and rescue I'll be mortified," Joley said. "Can you imagine the tabloids? They'd have a field day."

"He won't call them until Hannah or Elle gives the word. They know we're alive," Abigail told her. "Sasha, are you going to sing or not?"

He cleared his throat. "I was only encouraging your sister. I'm not really going to sing in front of her."

"Now would be a good time, Aleksandr," Joley said.

He sighed. "I'll do it, but you must never tell anyone."

Abigail steeled herself for the sound of his voice when he sang. Years earlier, when she lay in his arms late at night, he had sung to her in his rich, wonderful voice. He always sang in his own language and she had never been able to resist him when he sang to her. The song was a traditional Cossack lullaby and she knew he was singing it deliberately to remind her. His voice seemed to vibrate through her body and touch every nerve ending until tears burned behind her eyelids and she had to blink rapidly to clear her vision.

"I understand a few of the words," Joley said. "Something about 'sleep my baby, my beautiful baby,' but then you use that word, the one you called Abbey. Baushki-bau. What does that mean?"

"There is no translation. It is an endearment. I often call her my beautiful baby as well, but she objects."

Abigail shook her head, not wanting to hear him. Not wanting to feel or remember what it had been like to be with him. To be held by him. He had always been so protective.... And that had been the biggest illusion of all.

"You have a beautiful voice. You should have been a singer," Joley said, astonished. "I'd love to sing something with you."

"It is enough that I will be able to sing our children to sleep."

Abigail clenched her fist around the torch. There would be no children with her. How many times had they talked about having children together? He wanted a big family because he'd never had one of his own. No siblings, no relatives. He would say he wanted five children of each sex and she would laugh and shake her head, trying to get him to settle for a much more reasonable number.

She had to change the subject, get him talking about something that didn't have any underlying personal meaning. He needed to go away where she couldn't breathe him in, feel him skin to skin against her body so vividly. "Tell us more about what happened to the necklace."

Joley tightened her fist in Abbey's shirt, a silent communication of understanding. She might tease Abigail, but right now, she could feel her sister's pain and she wanted to take it away. Whatever had happened between Aleksandr and Abigail had been terrible and Joley's heart went out to both of them. For a moment, she wished that she had Libby's gift of healing so she could cure whatever wounds lay between the couple.

"After their execution, the bodies of the Romanovs were driven to the chosen burial site. It was a spot just north of Ekaterinburg. That particular area was mostly swamp, peat bogs and abandoned mine shafts. The guards stripped the bodies and all valuables were taken. Through accounts from those present we know that several pounds of diamonds were found on the bodies. Several versions of the story related that the empress was wearing or had the necklace on her person and it was removed by one of the guards, but the necklace was never turned over to the government. If it was found on the family, it was taken and kept in hiding."

"Where has it been all this time?" Abigail asked. Her voice was tight, her throat constricted and raw. She kept her gaze forward, not wanting to look at him and see knowledge in his eyes. He knew her too well, knew there was nothing casual about her reaction to him.

"Good question. Before I get too excited, I want to have it authenticated."

Abigail stopped so abruptly Joley nearly ran into her. "I can't tell whether this is a cave-in or whether I've hit a wall and the entrance to Kate's set of stairs is somewhere close." She shone the light across the rock wall.

Joley shivered. "Find it fast, Abbey."

Aleksandr rested his hand briefly on Joley's shoulder. "It's here, no doubt about it," he said with absolute conviction.

"How do you know?" Joley asked.

It was Abigail who answered. "Because someone is using the caves below and these stairs to smuggle something into the country. Probably whatever Aleksandr and his partner were trailing. That means there has to be a way to the surface."

"She's right, Joley," Aleksandr agreed. "Just a few more minutes and we'll be out of here."

"Do you think whoever shot at us is still there?"

Abigail laughed. "You've got a hopeful note in your voice. You're not going to get the chance to shoot anybody. I'm sure Jonas is already on the scene and the gunman is long gone. Hannah and Elle probably drove him away with the seagulls."

"Well, that just sucks. I haven't had my morning tea and I was driven into the icy cold sea and crammed underground with tons of rocks over my head. Vengeance is the only solution that is going to make me feel any better."

"Why hasn't anyone recruited you yet?" Aleksandr asked. "There, Abbey. The break is right there. See how the rock has that enormous crack? It isn't natural. Step back in case it has some sort of trap."

"I'd make a great Interpol agent," Joley said. "I'm so anonymous." She managed a quick grin at her sister.

"Actually Joley would make an excellent agent," Abbey said with pride. "She's cool under fire and she's very good at martial arts. She thinks on her feet and even when something is difficult for her, like this, she still does it." She stepped back, crowding close to her sister as she ran her fingers along the top and bottom of the crack. "There's a catch here."

"Let me get it," Aleksandr ordered.

"There's no room," Abigail pointed out. "We can't switch positions in here." Her fingers found a pin holding the weighted slab in place. The moment she pulled it, the door began to swing open, creaking and groaning as it did so. She heard Joley catch her breath and reached back to take her hand. "Almost to Kate's mill, Joley," she promised.

"More rock over my head. It's kind of like a tomb." Joley shuddered. "Let's just hurry fast."

"Wait, Abbey, don't go in," Aleksandr warned. "I'll go first."

"We came in through the stairs leading down to the sea from the mill," Abigail said. "Don't you think if someone was going to set a trap they'd have done it by now?"

"The optimum place is right where you're about to step." His voice had turned from a rich mellow tone to steel. "They can't rig the staircase in the mill because your sister or someone working there legitimately might get hurt and there would be an investigation. A di

ver might discover the cave and try to go up the stairs to see how far they lead up the cliff. It's only this area they need to protect. This is their escape route and the route to the main highway where they can easily transport whatever they've brought into the country."

Abigail immediately flattened herself against the wall. "Joley, can you make yourself really small and press tight against the wall so Aleksandr can try to get by?"

"Great," Joley groused. "You just had to be a big man with shoulders as wide as the Mississippi." She tried to squish herself against the rock.

Aleksandr managed to squeeze past Joley muttering his apologies. He caught Abigail by the shoulders and tried to slide past. The moment his body was pressed against hers, the moment he felt her soft skin, as wet as she was, smelling of the ocean, his body recognized hers. She fit. She belonged. Every part of him, body and soul, wanted her. Even needed her. He swore softly, his fingers tightening on her shoulders as reaction slammed into him hard and wrenching and far more powerful than he expected.

Abigail looked up at him, compelled by the heat and hardness of his body, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. The torch she held illuminated his face, the lines etched so deeply, the eyes that had seen too many horrors in life. She had thought she knew him, the things he was capable of to keep others from harm. She had always thought herself one of the protected yet he had sacrificed her in just the same way he did the others he used for information. For his career. To reach his ultimate goal. She understood that now and she had learned the hard way.

Abigail shook her head, denying the way something deep inside of her reached out to him. She would not be drawn in by the lingering melancholy in his eyes. She wouldn't let him touch her with his sadness, or his need, or even his terrible solitude. She wouldn't let the greatness she saw in him persuade her. Yes, he dedicated his life to catching monsters, to tracking criminals. She knew he had a sense of honor and loyalty to his homeland, but she also knew that he was as merciless and as ruthless as any of the criminals he was after.

She let him see it in her eyes. She would not risk herself again. Not her life and not her magic. She turned her face away.

Joley tightened her fingers around Abigail's, drawing her attention. Magic bound them together along with their blood. What one felt, so did the other, and Joley blinked back tears, understanding something traumatic had happened to Abigail. Abbey squeezed her fingers in reassurance. She couldn't protect her younger sister from the strong emotions they shared. It was the last thing she wanted to happen. She dreaded telling her sisters the truth of what she'd done, but she knew she had no choice.

Aleksandr leaned down, his lips pressed against Abigail's ear. "You used to have an open mind."

Her heart jumped in her chest. "That was a long time ago."

"Not to me, baushki-bau, never to me."

"You're hurting me." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Four years was a long time and she should have been over it, but it was all there, every vivid detail, cutting into her when it should have been long buried.

He slid past her without another word, taking the torch from her hand. "Stay here until I give you the okay."

He was all business again as if the small exchange had never happened. Abigail clung to Joley, not realizing she was doing so. He could turn his emotions on and off at will. Why hadn't she seen that when she'd been so in love with him? It was a glaring flaw she should never have overlooked.

Joley made a single sound of distress as the light from the torch moved away from them, leaving them in darkness. "I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, Abbey. I have to go back. I can't breathe. My heart's going to explode."

"All right, honey. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about your claustrophobia."

"I'm nearly to the other stairway," Akesandr called back. "I'll need a little help, ladies. Joley, why don't you sing for me so I know how far away you are."

"Aleksandr"--Abigail was suddenly afraid--"don't mess with anything lethal. We'll just go back. The shooter has to be gone by now. We can swim for it."

"I've almost gotten to the other side, malutka." There was a distinct drawling caress to his voice.

Abigail didn't trust him. He said all the right things. He was distracting Joley, his voice sexy and filled with reassurance and concern, but in the end, what mattered was that he wanted to follow the smugglers' route. He wanted to go up the stairs and see where the smugglers went. She always had to remember there was a purpose behind everything he did.

"I know you hate to sing, Abbey," Joley whispered, "but just this one time."

Abigail closed her eyes. She had to help Joley out when she'd placed Joley in such an uncomfortable and dangerous situation. Abigail was afraid of using her voice. Joley had control of her spell singing. Abigail didn't. She could wreak havoc with her voice. She sang to the dolphins and whales, to all the sea creatures out in her boat when she was alone, but not in front of people.

She began one of Joley's original songs, a soft melody of heartache, because her heart wasn't only aching, it was shattering all over again. She could feel the intensity of Joley's shocked stare in the darkness, but Joley still joined in, her normally strong voice a little hesitant, but picking up strength as they harmonized.

Aleksandr stopped moving as the two voices joined together singing. The Drake sisters had incredible power. There was something compelling, almost hypnotic about the voices. One could get lost in the sound, be drawn into another time and place, into either seduction and paradise or such loss one wanted to weep. He shook his head, trying to break the spell and find the small, hidden trap he knew had to be in the narrow tunnel.

"Oh, yes, here it is, ladies. A very simple but effective device. It's more of a warning system for them, to let them know if someone has used the stairs and discovered their route. I doubt if they use it more than once a month, maybe even less than that."

The singing stopped abruptly. "How dangerous, Aleksandr?" He preferred Abigail to call him by the more intimate version of his name, because he knew when she did, it was because she wasn't holding him at arm's length. Like she was now.

Aleksandr studied the trip wire. "Not at all. It's a small trip wire attached to a very small stick. If we kick it over, they know someone has used the stairs and their route is blown. With the light, you'll both be able to clear it, no problem. It's dry in here and the stairs are completely of rock. I'm coming back for you."

"Won't they know anyway?" Joley asked. "Your hit man friend must have known we'd come in here."

"It wasn't the same man who was at your house last night. I know his work. This is someone else." The light from the torch spilled over them and Joley took a visible breath of relief. "How many enemies do you Drakes have?"

"You were the one he shot," Abigail pointed out. Her stomach rebelled against the idea, lurching and rolling; she pressed a hand hard against it in protest.

Aleksandr didn't reply but turned back to lead the way. It was slow going as they followed. The tunnel had less seepage and was sheer rock, but it was extremely narrow and the ceiling overhead was uneven and jagged in places.

"Careful here," he instructed. "Step over this little wire." He held the torch as high as possible in the confined space. "Do you see it?"

Once pointed out it wasn't that hard to get over the obstacle and they hurried across the short distance.

"You've never admitted to having a great voice, Abbey," Joley said as they moved into the small section of stairs that intersected with the mill's staircase. "You have such perfect pitch. How could I not know that?"

Abigail didn't answer. She stared at a spot between Aleksandr's shoulder blades and kept walking.

"Both of you have an element not found in other voices," Aleksandr said without turning around. "I'm guessing that would be magic."

"Yes," Joley confirmed. "I can weave certain spells, help Libby heal, make people happier, that sort of thing. It's a wonderful gift and I try very hard to use it

wisely. There have been times when it's tempting to use it when someone really annoys me, but Abbey has never sung a single note in front of me. And my sisters can't have known about her voice either or they would have told me." She nudged Abigail in the back. "Why are you hiding your ability?"

"I'm not discussing it," Abbey said, her voice tight.

Aleksandr glanced over his shoulder at her. "There seem to be a lot of topics you don't want discussed lately. Your voice is beautiful and should not be hidden from the world. We often talked about our children and singing them lullabies but never once did you offer to sing to them."

Abigail's breath came out in a rush. Anger swirled to the surface even though she tried hard to contain it. "Yes, well, we both know things go wrong with my magic. Unlike Joley, mine is flawed. Or perhaps the wielder is flawed. I would never take a chance on harming one of my children."

6

ABIGAIL knew there was no hope of lingering any longer in her bathroom. Her sisters were waiting downstairs for an explanation. Worse, Jonas was wearing a path in the living room floor with his pacing. Leaving her hair to dry on its own after the warmth of a shower, she met her aunt Carol in the hall. Family members weren't supposed to have favorites, but Carol held a special place in Abbey's heart. She'd always made each of the girls feel incredibly special. Throughout their childhood she had always called, sent gifts and cards, and listened to them. Abigail put her arms around her aunt and held her. "I'm so glad you've come."

"I know you're having a hard time, Abbey," Carol said. "We'll get through it the way we always do, as a family. I don't know what I would have done without you girls when Jefferson died. I leaned on you tremendously. I hope you know you can do the same. And your parents will come home if you need them. I can call them for you."

"No, no, don't do that. Mom and Dad will come home before the weddings. They're having such a wonderful time together and I don't want anything to mar that." Abigail smiled. "All those years of raising us, they never really had time for each other, to just be alone. I know they both were looking forward to living in Europe for a couple of years. We're adults and we don't need them to come rushing home when we stumble a little."