Oceans of Fire Read online

  "Gene Dockins actually contacted Interpol, saying he thought there was smuggling going on. He thought drugs, or with the terrorist scare he was afraid a bomb might be smuggled into the United States via this coastline. He and his son Jeremy had been doing a little undercover work and managed to take pictures of something being offloaded onto the Treasure Chest. As we knew this area was hot, we followed up on his inquiries and took him up on his offer to continue helping."

  Jonas swore aloud. "Why the hell didn't they come to me? For that matter, you should have come to me instead of using a local for your undercover work. Jeremy's only a kid. Damn it!" He slammed his open palm against the steering wheel. "I should have been more on top of it. I knew Gene was concerned, but I thought once I'd turned it over for investigation he'd dropped it." He sighed. "I sent Jackson to their home to break the news to Gene's wife but I'd better warn him to keep on eye on Jeremy. That boy doesn't have the sense to be afraid and I'll be damned if I'll let anything happen to him. If he comes around wanting to help by taking his father's place, you tell him no."

  Aleksandr waited before responding until Jonas finished his call outlining the dangers to Jeremy Dockins to his deputy. "Your report to the coast guard filtered through Interpol just about the same time Gene Dockins sent us the photographs and his concerns. We contacted Mr. Dockins and he agreed to help us by placing an undercover agent in his boat and on the docks working with him. It was the perfect cover for Danilov." Aleksandr was damned if he was going to give Jonas the satisfaction of feeling his regret. Of course he was upset his partner was dead and the civilian fisherman was near death, but Aleksandr was doing his job and in his high-risk position danger went with the territory. Losing Danilov was a tremendous blow, both professionally and personally. He had been Danilov's backup and he had arrived too late to protect him. It mattered little that Danilov hadn't told him he was going out with Dockins that night; Aleksandr felt responsible.

  "I did a little research on you, Volstov, after you introduced yourself. There were a lot of gaps in your earlier years. Big ones. But I did find that you've spent several years working to bring down the Russian mafia. They're a particularly violent organization. Are you trailing them? I'd like to know if they have a foothold in my jurisdiction."

  "They're in San Francisco," Aleksandr admitted. "But you probably know that. We were hoping they weren't involved in this, but little happens in Russia along the smugglers' routes without the mafia being involved."

  "Is your name on a hit list?" Jonas asked bluntly.

  Aleksandr felt Abigail tense in his arms. Her eyes opened and he held her gaze as he admitted in a low voice, "Yes. Very near the top."

  Abigail blinked and turned her head away from him.

  Jonas turned the car onto the long, winding drive that led to a sprawling house on the cliffs. The house was an imposing sight, three stories high with a tower, balconies off of nearly every room, and a captain's walk out over the sea. Wind-swept cypresses and groves of evergreen and redwood trees clung to the hillside and color exploded among the brilliant green plants as wildflowers fought for space among the brush. A heavy iron gate wrought with symbols of the earth and stars swung open as the vehicle approached.

  "What happened tonight, Volstov?" Jonas asked.

  Aleksandr studied the grounds carefully, noting every path and every locked gate. "I received a call tonight from Danilov saying he had some evidence that a shipment of stolen artifacts we were tracking had been spilled into the sea as it was being transferred from a freighter to a fishing boat. He'd taken pictures and had a witness. He must have gone out with Dockins on his boat without informing me before he went." His gaze swept over the house and he mentally recorded the position of all the windows and doors that he could see. Exits. Escape routes. His way of life.

  Jonas parked the car and turned to study the Interpol agent. Aleksandr Volstov looked calm, almost expressionless, mild even, until you looked into his eyes. Jonas had met men like Volstov before, had fought alongside of them. They made relentless, bitter, merciless enemies and the most loyal of friends. They were the type of men you wanted in your corner when push came to shove because they would never desert you and would go into the fire to pull you out. Volstov wasn't calm about losing his partner and he wasn't going to stop until he found every last man involved in Danilov's death. And that could mean a bloodbath in Sea Haven and the surrounding towns if the Russian mafia was involved.

  "This isn't Russia," Jonas felt compelled to point out.

  Aleksandr merely looked at him with Siberian-cold eyes, then slid out of the car still cradling Abigail in his arms. "So this is the Drake house."

  "You're obviously aware they become weak after using their gifts. All of Abbey's sisters are going to be in the same state. They won't like feeling vulnerable in front of you," Jonas warned.

  "You've obviously witnessed this aftereffect on more than one occasion," Aleksandr pointed out as Jonas led the way along a winding path to the front door.

  "I'm family," Jonas said.

  "Seeing as how Abbey is engaged to be married to me, I would have to claim the same thing," Aleksandr replied quietly. Abigail stirred in his arms, opening her eyes with another stormy glare, which he ignored.

  The door was opened by an attractive middle-aged woman, with shrewd, assessing blue eyes and a wealth of gray-blonde hair clipped at the nape of her neck.

  "Aunt Carol!" Jonas enveloped her in his arms and kissed her cheek. "I had no idea you'd be here." He stepped aside, holding the door to allow Aleksandr to bring Abbey inside.

  "The girls didn't know," Carol assured him. "I arrived a few hours ago, thinking I'd help plan the weddings, and found them all in such a state. Here," she directed Aleksandr, "put her on the couch." She trailed after him. "I've made tea, Abbey. You'll be fine in half an hour."

  "She's soaking wet from the sea," Aleksandr protested. "Is there somewhere I can get her out of her wet clothes?" He felt Abbey's body stir again in protest and tightened his arms to prevent anyone from seeing her shaking head.

  "Where are the others?" Jonas asked, stepping around Libby, who was sprawled out on the floor, a pillow under her head. Elle lay slumped in a chair. Both had a cup of tea beside them. Keeping Gene Dockins alive had obviously cost them all a great deal. Jonas had seen the Drake sisters very vulnerable after the use of their powers, but never to such an extent. Gene must have been close to death to drain them this deeply. He cast a concerned glance up the stairs. "Aunt Carol, are they all right?"

  "Yes, dear. I couldn't very well carry them down the stairs. They're stuck out on the captain's walk."

  "I'll get them." Jonas was already moving, taking the stairs two at a time, leaving Aleksandr to face Abbey's aunt.

  Carol regarded him with her hands on her hips. "I'll get a blanket to wrap her in. I can't very well have you taking her clothes off."

  "I'm her fiance," Aleksandr stated without the least compunction. "Please just show me to her room and I'll do the rest."

  At his declaration, both Libby and Elle tried to push themselves up, although neither succeeded.

  Carol didn't ask for more of an explanation, but guided him up the stairs to Abbey's room. Her bedroom was spacious with French doors that led out onto a wide balcony overlooking the sea. "You'd better be telling the truth, young man. I'm not without my own gifts and that lovely accent will not save you from my wrath should you be lying." She closed the door before he could reply.

  "I know you're angry, Abbey," Aleksandr said as he laid her on a blanket on the floor, "but you brought this on yourself. I gave you plenty of time." He began to peel off her wet suit, an incredibly difficult task when it was as snug as a second skin. "I've only got so much patience." He wrapped a robe around her the moment he stripped her and tried not to notice her body.

  Not that it mattered. Even with his eyes closed he remembered the feel of her body, her lush, generous curves, warm and soft, skin pressed tightly against him. Abbey in his arms. Fitti
ng so perfectly. He cinched the robe around her waist, careful of her wounds, and squeezed a towel around her thick red braid to soak up the excess water.

  She pushed at him with feeble hands. "Angry is an understatement. Go away."

  "No. Not this time. It's taken me four years to catch up with you. There's no way I'm going to walk away. Especially when you get yourself mixed up with this mess. If the Russian mafia is involved, Abbey, it's going to get messy. And Jonas Harrington can go to hell if he thinks he's got a claim on you. We're engaged and I'm not letting you out of it."

  "You don't really think I'm going to let you walk back into my life!" She pressed her fingers to her temple. "I need to be downstairs with my sisters."

  She was getting her voice back and that wasn't good. "Where are your sweats? I'm not taking you down there if Jonas is going to know you aren't wearing anything under that robe."

  Her eyebrow shot up but she indicated her second drawer, not wasting energy on an argument with him. The truth was, she was shocked to see him. She could barely stand to look at him, to see him, so solid and real instead of the man haunting her dreams.

  Aleksandr scooped her up once she had wiggled into her sweatpants. "I'm taking you down there, but don't make the mistake of making eyes at him."

  "Do shut up, Sasha." The nickname slipped out without conscious thought. He'd always had a jealous streak and it annoyed her no end. Everything about Aleksandr annoyed her, especially his complete confidence. And his attitude. As if he had the right to be angry with her.

  "Do you want to tell me what you were doing in the sea by yourself?" He gave her a little shake in his arms. "And you should have more sense than to be caught in the open when bullets are flying." The angrier he got, the thicker his accent became. All the while his arms were gentle.

  She didn't want to remember that about him. "I don't have to tell you anything."

  "Yes, you do. You have to answer for taking ten years off my life, not to mention the four lost between us." He strode down the stairs and into the living room as if he owned her house, as if she weighed no more than a child. As if he were in charge.

  "Put her on the floor, over there," Carol directed, pointing to a spot where she'd spread a few cushions.

  Aleksandr propped Abigail against the sofa and sat beside her. Close. His thigh touching hers. "She has a bullet wound across her back and a shark scraped down the back of her leg."

  "Oh, dear." Carol put her hand over her mouth. "I've brought her tea, but that won't help her injuries."

  "The paramedics disinfected them but she refused to go to the hospital."

  Libby moved then, dragging herself across the few feet that separated her from Abigail, and reached out to touch her sister's leg.

  Abigail shook her head violently and tried to pull her leg out of reach. "No, Libby. You're too weak." She gasped the words, fighting for energy just to speak.

  "Just rest, Libby," Carol admonished. "You can't heal another person after what you've been through. Drink your tea." She made it an order. "All of you." She looked at Aleksandr. "I'm gone a few years, and they all grow up and forget everything we taught them. It's a good thing I've come home."

  Libby reached for Abbey's hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  Abbey shook her head. Libby was the healing force of the Drake sisters. Through her, unbelievable results could be achieved, but she paid for it dearly, often taking on the pain and illness of the injured or sick person she was aiding. "We're fine. We're all fine," she assured her sister.

  Aleksandr pressed the cup of tea into Abigail's other hand and helped her bring it to her mouth. She didn't fight him, but watched instead as Jonas returned from the captain's walk carrying her sister Hannah.

  Hannah stared at Aleksandr with curious eyes. "Who?" she mouthed.

  "None of your concern," Jonas snapped. "Did you pay the slightest bit of attention to how close you were to the edge when you were casting? You nearly fell over the railing, Hannah. Another inch and we might have lost you."

  "There, there, dear." Carol patted Jonas as if he were a boy. "There's no way of knowing when the weakness is going to hit. Hannah commands the winds. She has to reach out to the sea. Don't give her a lecture when she can't even defend herself."

  "That's the best time," Jonas muttered. "In fact now would be a good time to give them all a lecture on safety. Do you realize Abbey was diving in the sea alone?"

  "Go get Sarah and Kate and Joley, Jonas," Carol said. "We'll make certain Abbey never does such a foolish thing again." She gave him a little push toward the stairs.

  Aleksandr wanted to laugh at the sheriff 's expression. Aunt Carol had reduced Jonas's dangerous image to that of a "bad boy" with a few well-chosen words and her tone. The Drake women were truly perilous to the opposite sex, but then he had firsthand knowledge of that. His hand slid over Abbey's until he could intertwine his fingers with hers.

  She looked at him. Tears swam in her eyes and his heart jerked hard in his chest. He'd never been able to stand her tears. That day, the day neither of them would ever forget, he hadn't gone to her because her tears would have changed the course of his life and he hadn't been able to afford what would have resulted. He leaned over her, blocking her from the sight of the others. "Don't cry, lyubof maya. You are my heart, my world." He murmured the words in his own language because it was the only way he could tell her. He'd never stopped loving her. He had nothing without her. He'd learned that in the emptiness of his violent world. In the endless travels and the bleak hotel rooms. There was no home without her, not even his beloved Russia.

  Abigail shook her head. "Go away, Sasha, don't come back here again."

  He brought her hand to his mouth, his lips sliding over her knuckles, his tongue tasting her. Salt and sea. That was Abigail. "I go only because there is no talking to you when you are like this. And you've had a bad fright, but I will return, and we will sort this out."

  Aleksandr pushed himself up as Jonas returned carrying another Drake sister. "I will go, but you know where I'm staying. Please do me the courtesy of informing me of any information you might procure."

  "Oh, don't worry, Volstov. I'll be seeing you the minute I leave here," Jonas assured him. "You want me to call for a ride?"

  Aleksandr shook his head and deliberately looked at Abbey. "I'm staying close by so I can keep an eye on things." He had done what he could to stake his claim, but he knew Abbey well enough to know she was going to be upset that she was so vulnerable and he had taken advantage. Damn Jonas Harrington for having the inside track.

  Carol showed him to the door. "I'll take good care of her," she assured him, "no need to worry about Abbey. As soon as Libby is feeling better, she'll attend to her sister."

  Carol closed the door and immediately hurried over to Abigail. "Are you all right, dear? Shall I call your mother?" Her expression betrayed her anxiety. "How bad are your injuries?" She glanced toward the door. "And that fiance of yours has the sexiest accent. When he was speaking in Russian I nearly fell on the floor."

  Abigail didn't want to agree with her aunt, but she was grateful she was already on the floor. No matter how many nightmares, no matter how often she relived Aleksandr's behavior, the moment she saw him, heard his voice, touched him, she knew she would have to be very careful. "I'll be fine, Aunt Carol," Abbey assured her. "I just want to go to sleep."

  "Not before you talk to me," Jonas decreed, depositing Joley in a chair beside Kate. He suddenly crouched down beside Abigail and took the hand Aleksandr had held. He took a breath. It seemed the first he'd taken in several long hours. "I was really scared for you, Abbey. I saw him standing over you. I saw the gun and the two men down. There was blood everywhere and I thought for a moment we lost you." He sighed and rubbed his chin, his eyes avoiding hers. "I came close to killing him with no warning. I was that scared." He hung his head for a moment. "I nearly pulled the trigger just to get him the hell off of you."

  "Jonas." Abigail let her breath out. "It was
horrible, of course you would have thought he was trying to hurt me."

  "I almost killed a man in cold blood, Abbey. I never want to feel like that again." He rubbed his hand over his face. "I've done a lot of things in my life, but I've never killed an innocent man."

  She tightened her fingers around his. Without warning her skin prickled and she looked up to see Aleksandr watching them from outside the window. His expression hardened and his eyes grew even colder, if that were possible. Her heart jumped and began a wild beat she couldn't control. He held her stare for a moment then turned and disappeared from sight. Abbey cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from the window. "It's not going to happen again, Jonas. I'll be careful."

  "You'd better be." He took the cup of tea Carol handed to him and immediately sipped the hot, rejuvenating drink. "Thanks, Aunt Carol. It's been a hell of a night." He sank back, resting his head against the sofa, and looked around him at the Drake sisters. "Abigail witnessed a murder tonight and I'm afraid the Russian mafia may be involved. They're a very violent and messy bunch. I don't want any of you involved in this, and Abbey, you stay the hell away from Volstov. I don't know why he's claiming to be engaged to you and I don't have a clue if you knew him somewhere before this, but he's a very dangerous man and he's up to his neck in the mess."

  Sarah roused herself to wave her hand. "He's claiming he's engaged to Abbey?"

  Abigail could feel color sweeping into her neck and face as all of her sisters, her aunt Carol, and Jonas stared at her. She drank more tea to give herself time to think up an answer.

  "Abbey?" Kate prompted.

  "Well," Abbey hedged. "Yes. I mean no. Not really. Maybe." She drew up her legs. "I'm confused."