Hidden Currents by Christine Feehan
You're safe, baby. I'm right here. I'm always with you.
Inez looked stricken. Elle had always been self-sufficient and sure of herself, absolutely confident, even as a young child. Yet, she'd curled into Jackson and suddenly appeared quite fragile. "What did I say, Jackson?" she whispered, walking with them to the door.
"Nothing at all, Inez," he said. "You're fine."
Elle managed a small smile over her shoulder as Jackson took her out of the store. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."
"Nothing happened, Elle. You're going to be all right." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. "You'll find you're going to have triggers and you just have to deal with them when they crop up. We'll deal with them."
She quickened her steps on the wooden planks, hurrying toward Jackson's truck. The wind blew in off the sea, just a breeze, ruffling her hair and touching her face. They could both hear the feminine voices singing a soft melody, a soothing balm to her raw nerves. Out in the ocean, several whales surfaced, blowing as they did so, as if saying hello, and then swimming silently past the headlines before slipping back under the water again. At once she could hear their answering song, the breeze skipping over the water to bring the healing tones, the melodic keening and groaning, accompanied by churring and whistling.
The whales sang to Elle, performing a masterpiece, a sonata, most likely directed by Abigail. The unusual music sustained her on the way home. Highway 1 wound along the cliffs above the ocean and the whales kept pace with them, gliding lazily through the water, singing to her, occasionally breaching so she could maintain a visual.
As they drove up the drive to his home, Jackson noticed the abundance of bird life and plants and flowers. The blossoms seemed thicker and more colorful. He could see herbs had sprung up in one section just along the back fence as he parked the truck. The Drake women sat on his deck, listening to the whales, singing back to them in low tones. Abigail and Joley singing a harmony while the other women's voices rose and fell in counterpoint like waves.
Jackson went up the stairs and stood, Elle leaning against him, listening to the song the whales and the girls performed back and forth. When the last note faded, he shook his head. "Unbelievable," he said. "Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd hear something like that. I'm not going to ask how you did that."
Abigail smiled at him, even as she dropped down on her knees to greet Bomber. She scratched his ears and chest. "I've decided to try tonight, Jackson. You know, to attack Gratsos through Bomber. Kate's going to do another session with Elle and I'm going to join just before she withdraws. We think Elle is at her most vulnerable right then and he feels the barrier slip for a moment. You're maintaining it, but as Kate withdrew she sensed you holding yourself back to give her more privacy. And that made Elle's defenses just weak enough that he almost slipped through." She looked at Kate. "We're going to give him another opportunity and this time we'll be ready."
"I don't understand what you're going to do to him. How can Bomber possibly touch him?" Elle rubbed her throat as if she felt Stavros choking her.
Abigail glanced at Hannah and they exchanged a wicked little grin. Jackson frowned and stirred, suddenly uncomfortable. "What are you two up to?" he demanded.
"A little experiment is all." Sarah began to build a circle right there on his deck with candles.
"Where's Ilya? And Jonas? And Ty. Damon was going to be here. We have things to discuss. What's going on? Where's Aleksandr and Matt?"
The sisters burst out laughing. "You sound a little scared," Elle said. "Are you afraid of my sisters?"
"A little," Jackson admitted. "Things get out of hand fast when you're all together."
"Ty's pulling another shift," Libby explained. "They're very shorthanded with that flu going around. And Damon is with him. He drove to the Willit's station house to talk about something to do with energy and the Bermuda Triangle. I didn't really listen. When they get all technical I just tune them out."
"Matt's got this thing with his brother tonight," Abbey added. "And Aleksandr, Ilya and Jonas are doing some research for Damon. He wanted them to talk to the fishermen and divers in the area and get some data for some big project he's working on."
"Great," Jackson muttered and folded his arms across his chest. "They get the fun, and I get left unprotected with all of you."
Sarah pointed to the kitchen. "Make yourself useful. We'll need tea and cookies after the session."
"Cookies?" His eyebrow shot up. When she glared at him he sighed. "Fine. I think Inez or Mrs. Darden sent some over." He kissed the top of Elle's head and stalked into the house, feeling slightly guilty that he was leaving Bomber in the midst of women he knew were up to no good.
Elle sank down onto the mat in the center of the circle, Kate to her right, Abigail on her left. Bomber lay down with his head in Abbey's lap, ears forward alertly while she stroked his head. Libby sat facing Elle, and Hannah, Joley and Sarah made a semicircle behind her. The scent of lavender permeated the air.
Elle held up her hand before her sisters could begin a healing chant. Jackson.
Right here, baby. Can't you feel me?
She wrapped herself in him, in his warmth and strength. Letting out her breath, she nodded and Joley began the soft melody to draw energy from around them to heal Elle's tattered talents. She felt the familiar touch of Kate as she entered, so light, so soothing, bringing her calm and serenity along with the rebuilding energy. This time she felt the difference immediately as her sister worked, building on her previous session, restoring and repairing faster and faster.
Just as she thought she might have to stop Kate from doing too much and burning herself out, she felt Abigail's touch. Truth. Purity. Then Hannah. Mischievous and determined. Sarah. A force to be reckoned with, a sword beyond measure. Joley, a thirst for vengeance and a need to protect her younger sister. Libby entered last, her sweet, healing touch spreading through Elle's body and then uniting them all until they were a solid unit.
Okay. Pull back a little, Jackson, Sarah instructed.
Jackson weakened the barrier in Elle's mind, so that her shield shimmered nearly transparent, giving her sisters glimpses of her memories if they'd chosen to look. They stayed focused on one thing--waiting in silence--staying to the back of Elle's mind, hoping their enemy would take the bait.
Abigail drew the dog's mind into their center. He was on alert, already sensing Stavros's entry. Before the man could set himself, they dragged one memory from Elle's mind. Stavros, stark naked, body exposed. Abigail hissed a command. The dog leapt. Roared. All teeth. Ferocious. Stavros screamed. High-pitched. Agony. And then he was gone.
18
"ALL right, baby, you're going to tell me why you insisted I go over to the Dardens' this evening and repair the stairs and look at the roof and every other thing in their house from the electricity to the generator." Jackson made it a demand. "What's up? You were tired and whether you want to admit it or not, you're a little intimidated by the Dardens. And why did you give them those large candles with the crucifix in them and ask them to keep them lit through the night? And then make me stop at Inez's to give candles to her and Frank Warner? Something's up, and don't give me your innocent look. It was a big deal to you."
Elle sighed and looked up at the sky. The sunset had been spectacular. She understood why Jackson had built his house in the exact spot he'd chosen. His deck had the most extraordinary view of the setting sun. Colors had streaked across the sky, all orange and red and pink, while the sun, a bright molten ball, had poured liquid gold into the sea. They hadn't gone inside, content to sit side by side on a blanket up on the dunes while the sky turned from orange to purple.
Jackson remained silent, outlasting her. She sighed again, knowing she was going to tell him and he'd probably think she was crazy. "I saw Death today." Her confession came out in a little rush. "Today in the grocery store, I saw Death."
He turned to her, studying her upturned, anxious express
"I sometimes can see with a second sight. I don't know how else to tell you, most of my sisters can do it. Today, in the grocery store, he was there, looking for someone to take. Both Frank Warner and Mrs. Darden attracted his attention, but anyone in the store, including you, is at risk."
"That's crazy, Elle. Death isn't a person. It just happens."
"He looks for people close to death, a sickness, an accident, a suicide. He finds them. I saw him. You don't have to believe me." She looked out over the ocean. "We all have a deep faith, and I know you do, too. I've seen you in church, Jackson, but even though there is good and evil in the world, it doesn't mean that there aren't anomalies as well. Some people think we're an anomaly, but obviously we want to believe our gifts were given to us for good. There are things you just can't explain. Death is one of them. We've always called the apparition that. He comes sometimes and looks for someone close to dying and speeds it up."
"Can you stop it?"
She shrugged. "We think it's like accidents and random occurrences, but that once he's in the vicinity, he isn't satisfied and won't leave until he's stolen a life. It isn't the same as a natural death, because he craves that life and succeeds in stealing it."
Jackson shook his head. "I don't even know what to say."
"He looked at everyone in the store and he has their scent, the essence of their life. I saw him take it in and he'll not stop until he's satisfied."
"Did you tell your sisters?"
"I took Sarah aside and told her. She's seen Death before, when he came here on Damon's shoulders. Damon had slipped away and Death wanted him back, but he took someone else. Whether we helped fight him or not, none of us really know."
"But there's nothing you can really do about it?"
"Not unless we're there when he tries to steal life--and even then we might not be strong enough to stop him."
"You can't save the world, Elle," he said gently. "Sometimes, when I'm working, I have to repeat that to myself a dozen times a shift."
"I know." She produced a tentative smile. "But sometimes we can get in a little strike for justice." The smile faded. "He was closer, Jackson."
His head spun around and he locked gazes with her. "What do you mean? He? Death?" But he had a sinking feeling she wasn't talking about death--not from the look on her face.
Her stomach churned and she pressed a hand there. "Stavros. I felt him and he was closer. He knows where I am and he's coming."
He let his breath out and nodded. "It's okay, baby. I figured he'd come. As soon as he answered Dane's phone, I knew."
"And you're not afraid?"
Terrified. She wanted to say terrified. He knew that and understood. Jackson shook his head. "No, I think it's a major tactical error for him to come onto our turf. He's arrogant and used to getting his way. He thinks he'll buy off the cops or the locals and get help to reacquire you, but he's going to run into a little problem with that plan."
The confidence in his voice steadied her. "I'm not going to think about him tonight. At least he's not feeling very well."
"I still can't believe your sisters did that," Jackson said, leaning back, linking his fingers behind his neck. "You're all a little out of control."
Elle pillowed her head on his chest, giving him a tentative smile. "Actually, I thought they were very controlled. No one even peeked at my memories and you shielded them beautifully from my emotions."
His hand stroked her hair. "Let me just say, you're all a little crazy and I never want to get on any Drake woman's bad side."
"It was your idea." She felt compelled to point this out.
He tipped his head up to look at her. "Oh, no. I was thinking to go for the throat."
Elle laughed softly. "I think that's just as bad." She tightened her arm around his waist, snuggling closer. "Whatever happened, I think we scared him enough that he won't be visiting me for a day or two." This time there was satisfaction in her voice.
Jackson rolled over until his body was half blanketing hers. He framed her face with his palms and looked down at her, looked into her eyes. "Have I told you that I love you?"
His wide shoulders blocked out the sky and then his face was descending slowly toward hers. She could see his long lashes and straight nose, the compelling hunger in his eyes. He always managed to make her heart beat a little faster and her body just melted, right there in the sand, soft and pliant and accepting.
She took a breath and he kissed her, long and leisurely, his hunger growing as he fused their mouths together. She pressed her body closer, wishing they were skin to skin, wanting the feel of his chest rubbing against her aching breasts. Her fingers settled in his thick, wavy hair and she gave herself up to the pleasure of his marauding mouth.
It took moments--or hours--before she realized he had somehow opened her blouse and exposed her breasts, and was now making his way down her throat and over her sensitive skin. A jolt of electricity went from her breasts to her womb, so that she felt the clutch and the emptiness and needed him to fill her.
"Undo my jeans," he whispered and bent to feed at her breasts.
With his teeth and tongue wreaking havoc, her fingers fumbled at his zipper. It took forever for her clumsy hands to free him from the opening. At once she felt the hot brand of his heavy erection lying along her thigh. Now she needed her clothes gone. All of them. She desperately wanted to feel him against her skin.
Jackson lifted his head from the soft pillow of her breasts, and let his gaze drift over her flushed, aroused body. He slid his hands inside her shirt, feeling the heat of her soft skin, inhaling her scent. Elle. He just wasn't whole without her. His fingers slid around to her ribs so he could lift her slightly, forcing her breasts to thrust upward toward his mouth. She looked beautiful, exotic, so sexy his blood heated, sizzled, and rushed through his veins like a drug.
She moaned when his mouth closed over her breast and his teeth tugged at her nipple. Her body writhed under his. She was so sensitive. So responsive to him. Her fingers slid up and down his shaft, stroking and caressing, nearly driving him out of his mind. He could feel her heartbeat against his mouth, along his palm, knew she could feel his heartbeat through his pulsing, eager cock.
He bit her ear and then her neck, tiny little nips that took her breath and then he licked and kissed each spot. "Let's go into the house, baby."
She could only give him a little whimper as he rose, dragging her with him, leaving the blanket behind. Her breasts spilled out of her shirt and he pulled her around after three steps and kissed her, his hands cupping the soft mounds, thumbs sliding back and forth in small caresses.
They never made it into the house. They were too hot for each other. Even the breeze coming off the ocean did nothing to cool the heat raging between them. They got as far as the deck and he shoved the shirt from her shoulders so that it floated to the deck a little distance away. He caught her around the waist and brought her up on her toes, kissing her again and again, welding their mouths together, his tongue stroking and caressing, while his hands tugged down her jeans. Without taking his mouth from hers, he ordered, "Take them off, kick them away."
She couldn't think with his mouth raging against her, devouring her, so hungry he was ravenous. Her body throbbed with need, wet and hot and desperate for his. He never stopped kissing her, as she struggled to kick away her jeans until her body was bare and she was pressed against his. His shirt was long gone, but his jeans still covered his legs. It didn't seem to matter and there was something a little primitive and sexy about being totally naked when he was partially clothed.
Elle could hear the blood pounding in her ears, a roaring, a need that wouldn't stop. She couldn't get close enough, her hands cupping him, stroking and caressing the thick hardness, so velvet soft and hot. She groaned and felt the shudder run through him as if she'd ignited a fuse. He simply lifted her, taking a step so that her back hit the wall and stead
"Wrap your legs around my waist."
His voice was hoarse--sexy, so needy she felt another rush of welcoming liquid. She hooked her ankles together around him and clasped her hands at his nape, head back, hair cascading in a long fall. His body was so hard. So perfect. The air on her nipples added to her arousal, the wind teasing over her body like fingers.
Jackson was slightly shocked to hear a growl rumbling in his chest and throat. He felt like a mad animal, consumed by lust and love, a need to be inside her so strong he brought his hands to her hips and using his strength, pushed her hips down hard, impaling her on his thick cock. He felt her body sheath his, drawing him in, so hot and tight and wet, gripping and squeezing and taking his breath.
As he drove upward, he felt the resistance of her body, her breath slamming out of her lungs, the thrill of pleasure in her mind that went from breasts to belly to her hot core so that her muscles clamped around him hard. The pleasure burst through him, shook him, consumed him until nothing mattered but driving deep into her, over and over, feeling the hot clasp of her body, the tight, burning sheath gripping at nerve endings determined to drag his release right out of him.
Her body tightened. She shuddered, her eyes going wide. A whimper slipped from her throat. As his hands forced her down, she moved her hips in a tight circle, riding him, rising and falling, matching the intensity of his frantic rhythm while her body coiled tighter and tighter around his. Her body was scorching hot now, a fire that roared through his veins and pulled every part of him to the center of his body. Mind and blood and strength. Building . . . building.
He heard her moan, and his body jerked in response. He knew she was close. That soft sound was a musical symphony to him, a song he played in his mind, and he wished he could transfer to the keys on the piano and hold forever to him.
Another rising moan. She chanted his name. Soft. A whimper. She threw her head back again, her soft hair sliding over his arms, her face flushed with arousal. He loved her like that. That perfect moment before her body clamped down like a vise on his, drawing out his hot release. Her unknowing song, her heat. The look on her face. It all combined to give him a fierce, primitive satisfaction and added to the wicked pleasure swamping his own body.