Dangerous Tides (Drake Sisters 4)

Libby heard the sounds as if from a great distance, but she continued to concentrate her attention on holding Jonas to her. Power and strength flowed through her sisters into her. The air snapped with electricity so that their hair rose like haloes around their heads and stood up along their arms. Jonas had so many wounds, and the artery required all of Libby's attention.

Libby kept Jonas's heart beating, kept oxygen flowing to his brain. Time passed and she pushed panic aside, working her way through the massive destruction in his chest. Once she heard Hannah sob and felt Elle's internal weeping, but they never faltered and neither did she. Jonas would not die this night. The Drakes would never allow it. Sarah, Kate, Abigail and Joley sent every ounce of strength and energy they possessed to their sisters, giving freely to save Jonas, holding nothing in reserve, even knowing Libby would soon need their help as desperately as Jonas did now.

At a signal from Libby, Jackson waved the team of paramedics through the protective line. They rushed with their equipment to Jonas's side. As the officers parted, Tyson caught a glimpse of Libby covered in blood, her face stark white, eyes closed. Pain etched her face and sudden anger swept through him at the sight of it. He wanted to pound Jackson into the ground, even went so far as to take two aggressive steps toward him.

"Don't mess with me tonight." Jackson warned him.

"You're killing both of them trying to keep up this stupid myth of the Drake sisters and their magic. If she could wave her arms around and say an incantation or two, don't you think Jonas would already be up and walking around?" He couldn't stand the sight of Libby's white face, so pale she looked translucent--not of this world--a witch. "You people are sucking the life out of her, perpetuating this myth."

Jackson didn't reply, merely stared at him with flat, cold eyes. Obviously nothing was going to sway him, any more than it would sway the fanatics who believed the Drake sisters were real modern-day witches. Still, Tyson had to try. Keeping his voice low so no one could hear, he pleaded with the man. "Think, Jackson. This isn't logical. This is the kind of thing that brings the crazies after Libby. They believe all the hocus-pocus because they need to believe in it." He threw his arms into the air when Jackson didn't change his expression. "You're going to get her killed," Tyson hissed between his teeth.

"This is a crime scene," one of the other sheriffs said. "Move back."

"This is murder," Sam shouted and the crowd behind him buzzed louder. "You damn well had better not let Jonas die. Give him proper medical attention."

Tyson gripped Sam's shoulder hard to restrain him. Crowds grew ugly fast. Jonas Harrington was a popular man up and down the coast and only the people of Sea Haven believed in the Drake family magic. He didn't want things to get out of hand. He signaled Sam to stop stirring things up, feeling guilty since Sam was merely backing him up. As a firefighter, Sam wielded a lot of influence. He was well-known, popular and very persuasive. He most likely wouldn't have entered into the debate if he hadn't had Tyson's back.

Sam shook his head. "This isn't right," he said in a low tone. "The Drakes are going to kill him. They'll claim he was dying anyway, with four bullets in him, but the longer the delay the less his chances. Why the hell won't they allow the medics in?"

"They did let paramedics through," Tyson reminded him. "They're working on Jonas now. He doesn't look good and he hasn't moved."

The crowd pushed closer.

Movement caught Tyson's eye and he saw Libby topple over. She lay as if dead on the ground, blood covering her clothes, staining her skin, her face as white as a sheet. His heart nearly stopped, then began to pound hard.

Hannah swayed, was caught by Matt Granite. He lifted the supermodel and placed her in a squad car. Jackson carried Elle and then Sarah as Matt helped Abigail, Joley and Kate get to the cars. The paramedics worked fast to bundle Jonas onto the gurney to transport him to the nearest hospital. Tyson pushed his way through the crowd toward Libby. A burly officer bumped chests with him.

"You can't go past this point. This is a crime scene."

"Like hell. Libby is my . . ." What the hell did one say to get past the law? "She's my . . ." Words failed him again. "We're dating."

"We have people looking after her. As soon as they move her, you'll be able to see her." The officer did not appear to be in the least impressed with Ty's declaration.

"Like hell I'm waiting," Tyson snapped. "Half the people running around your precious crime scene are not law enforcement personnel, so don't give me excuses." Behind him, the crowd pushed closer and Sam bumped Tyson hard, driving him into the officer's chest.

Immediately the officer shoved Ty away from him, sending Tyson staggering backward into Sam, who stumbled and fell into the angry mob. Chaos exploded. People began swinging wildly at the deputy and each other. Tyson helped his cousin up, ducked a flying fist and then took a hit far too close to his broken rib so that he was forced to protect that side of him, the pain taking his breath as he hunched over.

"I'm going to arrest every one of you." Jackson had come over and was speaking in a low, menacing tone that sobered the crowd instantly. "Go home and let us do our job. You're blocking the way of the ambulance."

Officers formed a barrier, shielding Jonas from the sight of the crowd as he was placed inside the vehicle. The deputies, joined by several highway patrol officers, drove the mob back to allow the ambulance to get onto the road.

Ty found himself staggering over to the edge of the road, holding his side and craning his neck in an attempt to spot Libby. She had several people surrounding her, mostly the men associated with the Drakes.

"You okay?" Sam asked, anxiety plain in his voice.

"No, I'm not okay," Tyson bit out between his teeth. "I don't know if she's dead or alive. She isn't moving."

Sam glanced at Libby's body, partially blocked by two burly men. "What really happened here, Ty? I heard 'officer down' and came running. What the hell happened to him? Who would do this?"

"I told you. Someone shot him. It looked like multiple wounds. No one knows why, or if they do, they aren't saying." Tyson pushed a hand through his hair. To his astonishment he was trembling. "I don't get this, Sam. I know she can't heal people. It isn't possible, we know that. Libby's smart. Damned smart, but she really believes she can heal people like some faith healer in a tent. I didn't realize how seriou

sly she believes it until just now. She'd never have risked Jonas this way otherwise."

Sam shrugged. "The Drakes have always been different. Everyone in Sea Haven knows that. Maybe the answer is just as simple as they crave attention any way they can get it. God knows, they don't live low-profile lives."

Tyson's gut knotted. He had had this same conversation with his cousin before, back when he'd first mentioned he was interested in Libby. Sam had protested with surprisingly well-thought-out reasons why it would never work. Tyson had quoted part of the conversation to Libby at dinner, wanting to guide her gently toward thinking with logic. Libby didn't strike him as a woman who craved attention. In fact he'd never seen her intentionally draw attention to herself. He shook his head. "The motivation doesn't fit her, Sam. She's brilliant and skilled and maybe that makes her vulnerable to believing she can heal others."

"Whatever, Ty. If we don't get out of here pretty soon, we're going to get arrested. That cop is staring at you and he doesn't look happy."

"Go, Sam. This isn't your mess. I want to make certain Libby's okay. If I get arrested, sooner or later BioLab will bail me out."

"I'm sure they will. You're their big star," Sam said.

"I'm trying not to notice that there was sarcasm in your tone," Tyson said. He regarded his cousin through narrowed eyes, his attention on the cops, waiting for them to lose interest in him. "I'm sorry about the phone calls at all hours of the night. It's just that I've been concerned about that project . . ."

"It's not your project, Ty. You've got all of BioLab in an uproar. They're calling the house and sending couriers and showing up on my doorstep when I'm trying to entertain a beautiful woman. I was this close"--Sam measured the distance off with his fingers--"to getting her to stay with me. I've been after her for months."

Tyson's attention shifted back to the sheriff deputies. They'd lost interest in him now that the crowd had dispersed and he seemed to be obeying orders.

"I'm sorry," Ty mumbled. It was a habit from childhood and easily done and never all that genuine. He was always cramping Sam's style when he was home, although he spent so much time in his basement laboratory that Sam often referred to Tyson as "the mole." Sam was never serious about any one woman and if he messed up his chances to sleep with one woman, he simply moved on to the next. He was charming and easygoing and not overly ambitious. He loved being a firefighter for the forestry but didn't particularly want the responsibility of moving up the ladder whereas Tyson was driven to always move forward.