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

Her heart in her throat, she watched as he made his way across the ceiling until he was directly above the two men. A noise drew her attention toward the stairs. Hearing the gunfire, three other men had climbed the stairs to investigate. One signaled, first toward the left and then toward the right. A dark-clad man went in either direction, hugging the railing while the first covered them.

He had a direct line of vision to the open door of the den. Maxim had gone still, blending now with the ceiling.

Can you shoot him with the dart gun? You'll have to be accurate and hit him the first time. If you don't think you can, don't try.

Airiana took a deep breath, let it out and took a careful look at her target. He was using the stairwell as his cover. Most of his body lay along the stairs out of sight. Only his head and upper chest showed, the assault rifle in his arms. His head was tucked down, his eyes scanning the deck for movement.

For a moment she hesitated, but Maxim was totally exposed, and with five men searching for him, someone was bound to spot him.

She shot the one giving orders in the only real target she had that she knew would take him down--his eye. Her little dart gun was silent, but accurate. The dart hit him square in his left eye and he made a muffled sound--one that made her stomach heave. She forced back bile and watched as he slumped down.

Maxim shot the two men in the doorway with a silenced weapon, a quick one-two shot, using a silencer and adding air to muffle the sound further. He began to ease back over the ceiling, moving at a snail's pace, never hurrying, never stopping, just moving back toward the cover of the deeper shadows.

The two other men weren't aware yet of their three fallen team members. They began to circle, one moving counterclockwise and the other moving clockwise so they could cover the entire deck. Her heart in her throat, she watched as one of them paused, his attention suddenly drawn toward the bar, Maxim's destination.

Don't move, Maxim. Hold very still.

Maxim went absolutely still, clinging with fingers and toes to the ceiling overhead. Her heart pounded so loud she feared the two men on the deck would hear.

The member of the assault team went down to one knee suddenly, the movement drawing the attention of his partner, who dropped as well. Airiana studied the one who seemed to have noticed something off near the bar. She couldn't let him start spraying the area with bullets, but it was an odd angle for her. Her target would have to be his neck.

He's still uncertain, but he's watching, so stay still. Give me just a moment. She didn't have a moment. The man was suspicious, and she knew he would use his weapon. Alarm was spreading through the air and forming in the waves slapping the yacht.

Still, she took her time with her aim, feeling as though this shot was the most important one she'd ever make. She squeezed the trigger and the dart flew from her gun. It struck in his neck and he grunted, slapping at the dart as if it were an angry bee, drawing the attention of his partner.

The partner let out a yell and began firing, sweeping the deck with bullets blindly. They hit all around her, tearing up the wall behind her. Had she not been so small, she would have been hit. Maxim fired at the man, three fast shots. One must have clipped him, because the man hit the deck hard, but he rolled to cover, rapid firing as he did so.

Maxim dropped down to the deck to protect Airiana. A bullet sliced through the outside muscle of his arm, a quick kiss that burned like hell. More men were running up the steps. He had to get Airiana out of there fast, but if he left any of Evan's crew alive, they would finish what their teammates had started--murdering everyone in the den, including Airiana's father. He didn't want to have to face her if that happened.

He rolled away from her, drawing fire, and lifted his gun, spitting back a reply. They exchanged a flurry of bullets while he worked his way into position. Two more had found their way to the top of the stairs.

Stay down, Airiana, he cautioned, afraid she would draw attention back to herself.

Another bullet parted his hair just above his temple, slicing off skin and burning like a firebrand. He took his time, making his next shot count. He put the bullet squarely between the eyes of Evan's man.

He turned to see Airiana sliding more darts into the gun. Those are lethal doses, he reminded. And damn it, keep your head down.

Bullets are lethal. I'm not going to just throw the dart gun at them.

Her voice dripped with sarcasm and he found himself smiling in spite of the ferocious burning from the bullets clipping him. He'd been lucky, but if they didn't get off the yacht soon, they weren't going to make it.

He slapped a compress over the wound on his arm, sealing it and wincing when the antibiotic cream added to the burn along his raw flesh. Airiana's face was white, her eyes large and shadowed, but her expression was determined. She hadn't gone to pieces and froze. She stuck it out with him, fighting by his side no matter how hot the situation. He couldn't help admiring her.

She had a much clearer angle on the stairs than he did. The two who had come up were half lying, their heads showing just above their friend's body. He was still alive, still breathing, in spite of the drug, but rather than pull him to safety, they used his body as a shield.

If you're going to do this, baby, you have to take both of them out. A one-two shot. Go over it in your mind. Practice it there first several times. You can't make a mistake. If you don't take out the second one, he'll unload that automatic on us and we won't survive.

Don't talk to me right now, you're making me nervous.

He was silent for a moment, willing her to take the shots. If he moved, he'd draw their attention. They were going to figure out fairly quickly where they were just by the position of the bodies.

He heard the small hiss of the dart gun and saw a dart protruding from the man on the left's throat. The second dart hit the forehead of the second man. Maxim leapt to his feet and shot him twice to make certain.

He opened the first aid kit in the bar and dragged his war bag out of it, caught Airiana into his arms and raced for the rail. Slide around to my back. Hold on tight, but don't choke me. There are more coming. We've been lucky so far, but sheer numbers are going to get us killed.

She didn't argue, although he felt her mind go still, almost as if she didn't allow herself to think further than his command. Obediently she crawled around to his back and wrapped her legs around him and clutched his shoulders.

He went over the side, using the anchor chain as a ladder. It was slippery and he had to concentrate sliding down it to the dark waters below. Each step was treacherous, and he was very aware he held Airiana's life in his hands. He spotted the small black boat carrying reinforcements from the boat anchored a distance away.

They needed a head start. He was going to have to swim with Airiana on his back and mostly stay on the surface. The water wasn't freezing, but already she was shivering, more--he was certain--from fear not cold.

We're going in as qui

etly as possible. Lock your arms around my neck, but don't choke me, he cautioned again. She was terrified of the water and he didn't want her panicking. Take a breath. We're going under. Count to forty and we'll be on our way to the surface. We have to get away from the yacht. They've got men in the water now and the moment they find us gone, they'll spread out and come hunting.

Airiana pressed her face flat against his back, hard. She shook until her bones threatened to fly apart but she stuck with him. I'm ready.

He felt her fill her lungs and he slipped down beneath the water, allowing it to close over their heads as he followed the chain beneath the surface. Once out of sight, he kicked strongly, using his strength to propel them through the water as fast as he could toward shore.

He heard her counting in her mind, slow and steady, not hurried and panicked although her heart pounded against his back. When she hit thirty-nine, he angled upward. She kept counting, although he could feel her mind beginning to fight her determination.

They came up a distance from the yacht. The decks appeared to be swarming with men. He could only hope that the men wouldn't bother murdering those in the den once they discovered their quarry was gone. Evan might even have told them to spare her father for leverage.

He couldn't worry about that now. We're going under again. Count to forty. You're doing fine.

I'm glad you think so.

That was definitely sarcasm. Her body shuddered. She sniffed. Damn it all. You're crying again. Woman, don't you ever stop?

I cry when I'm stressed. Swimming underwater stresses me. You're going to have to get used to it because I'm crying all the way to shore.

He took them under. The salt water burned his wounds, but it gave him something else to curse about rather than think about her tears. That lasted for the first fifteen seconds.

You aren't helping anything by crying. Just count. That's so much more reasonable. I can't think straight with all that noise.

She dug her heel into his side hard. Stop being a bastard. You're doing it deliberately and you've made me lose count. Now I'm going to panic for sure.

You were on twenty-seven.

But then I had to respond to your obnoxious, self-centered remark and that took several more seconds. I'm at least on thirty-seven.