Drake Sisters 01 - Magic in the Wind

slightly between the guns and Hannah.
    “This gun is real," the man with the swollen jaw snapped.
    "This isn't a party." He grinned evilly at his partner. "Although when it's over we might take one or two of the women with us for the road."
    Sarah looked bored. "It's very obvious neither of you is the brains in this venture. I can't imagine that the man in jail is, either. Who in the world would hire such comedians to go looking for national secrets? It's almost ludicrous. Are you in trouble with your boss and he's looking to get rid of you?"
    "You have a smart mouth, lady; it won't be so hard to shoot you."
    "Do have some tea, at least we can be civil," Abbey said sweetly. There was a strange cadence to her voice, a singsong quality that pulled at the listeners, drew them into her sugges-tions. "If you're going to be with us for some time, we may as well enjoy ourselves with a fine cup of tea first and get to know one another."
    The air in the room was fresh, almost perfumed, yet smelled of the sea, crisp and clean and salty. The two men looked confused, blinking rapidly, and exchanged a long bewildered frown. The man with the swollen jaw actually lowered his gun and took a step toward the tray with the little teapot.
    Kate stared intently at the locks on the front door, and the knob itself. Sarah never took her eyes from the two men. Waiting. Watching. The huntress. Damon thought of her that way.
    Listening, he thought he heard music, far out over the sea. Music in the wind. A soft melodious song calling to the elements.
    All the while the dark shadow edged around the two intruders.
    Hannah lifted her arms to the back of the couch, a graceful, elegant motion. The wind rose to a shriek, burst into the room with the force of a freight train. The men staggered under the assault, the wind ripping at their clothing. The bolt on the door turned and the door burst open under the heavy weight of the dogs. The animals leapt inside, teeth bared. Damon blinked as the crouching shadow leapt onto the back of one of the men and remained there.
    Sarah was already in motion, diving at the two men, going in low to catch the first man in a scissor kick, rolling to bring him down. He toppled into his partner, knocking him down so that his head slammed against the base of a chair. Sarah caught the gun Damon threw to her.
    The man with the swollen jaw rose up, throwing the chair as he drew a second gun. Damon attempted a kick with his one good leg. Sarah fired off three rounds, the bullets driving the man backward and away from Damon. She calmly pressed the hot barrel against the temple of the intruder on the floor.
    "I suggest you don't move." But she was looking at the man she shot, watching Hannah and Abbey trying to revive him.
    Watching the dark shadow steal away, dragging with it something heavy. Knowing her sisters could not undo what she had done. Sarah wiped her forehead with her palm and blinked back tears.
    Kate collected the guns. Abbey held back the dogs by simply placing her hand in warning on their heads.
    "I'm sorry, Sarah," Damon said.
    "It was necessary." She felt sick. It didn't matter that he'd intended to kill them all, or that Death had been satisfied. She had taken a life.
    The wind moved through the room again, a soft breeze this time, bringing music with it. Touching Sarah. She looked at her sisters and smiled tiredly. "Hannah, the cavalry is coming up the drive. Do let them in and don't do anything you'll regret later."
    Hannah rolled her eyes, stomped across the room, landing a frustrated kick to the shins on the man Sarah was holding.
    "Thanks a lot, I have to see that giant skunk two times in one day. That's more than any lady should have to deal with."
    Abigail leaned down, her face level with Sarah's prisoner.
    ' You'd really like to tell me who you're working for, wouldn't you?" Her tone was sweet, hypnotic, compelling. She looked directly into his eyes, holding him captive there. Waiting for the name. Waiting for the truth.
    At the doorway, Hannah called out a greeting to Jonas Harrington. "As usual, you're just a bit on the late side. Still haven't quite gotten over that bad habit of being late you set in school. You always did like to make your entrance at least ten minutes after the bell." She had her hand on her hip and she tossed the silky mass of wavy hair tumbling around her shoulders. "It was juvenile then and it's criminal now."
    Deliberately he stepped in close to her, crowding her with his