Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

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    Abigail attacked again, coming in low and mean with her knife, catching Ignatev around the neck with her arm and slamming the small blade into his belly with as much force as she could muster.
    He caught her wrist and tore the knife from her hand, stabbing at her several times as she tried to backpedal. The blade was small and the wounds were shallow, but Abigail felt the sting of each and knew she had very little time. As Ignatev loomed over her, arm raised, Aleksandr caught him from behind, spinning the man around and driving forward with all of his weight and strength, embedding the spearhead that had torn through his own shoulder, deep into Ignatev’s throat.
    There was one moment of shock, as if the ocean itself had ceased all movement. Abigail saw Aleksandr reach for her and then his arm dropped and the two bodies, held together by the spear, rolled to the ocean bottom.
    Libby! Help me! Oh, God, Libby, I need you! Abigail screamed and screamed over and over in her mind for her sister. Raw pain clawed at her throat and belly as she tore the two bodies apart and hooked her arms under Aleksandr’s shoulders. She was not telepathic, but her sisters were connected. They knew. They were aware. She began to drag Aleksandr through the water, rising toward the surface as she did so. It was impossible to fight the pull of the sea, drag his weight, and hold his regulator in place. It kept slipping out no matter how many times she tried to keep it in his mouth. She was closer to the shore than to the boat and in any case it didn’t matter. He was bleeding out in spite of the cold water. And he was drowning, his lungs filling with water as she dragged his unconscious body to the beach.
    Her sisters poured their strength into her, giving her aid even over the distance, all the while attempting to control the sea creatures scenting the blood in the water. It was a long battle, fighting the swells and trying to ride the waves in with Aleksandr in tow. Exhausted, terrified of losing Aleksandr, Abigail remembered, too late, the second man. The one who had gotten to the surface and was lying in wait. Her heart jumped, then began to pound out an alarm.
    She found her feet, staggering as she dragged Aleksandr’s dead weight to the wet sand. The man waited for her in complete confidence, a small, infuriating smile on his face. He watched her fight to get the body to higher ground. She dropped to her knees, fighting for breath, throwing off her mask and tearing off Aleksandr’s, and placing both hands over his wounds. It was impossible to stem the flow of blood.
    She put her lips against Aleksandr’s ear. “Don’t you leave me.” She began CPR, willing him to breathe again, willing him to cough and get the seawater out of his lungs.
    The man took a step toward her, drawing her attention. She glanced up to see him hold up a wicked-looking knife. He smiled as he took a second step toward her. The bullet hit before she heard the shot. It tore through the man’s left eye, snapping his head back so that he crumpled like a rag doll.
    Abigail put her head down on Aleksandr’s chest briefly, then looked around her. “Prakenskii! Hurry up.
    He’s dying. I can’t heal him. My sisters are as exhausted as I am. I know you’re there.”
    The wind touched her face. Her sisters. Always with her, as afraid for Aleksandr as she. “Please.” She whispered it. “Please.” She called it out as loud as she could, tears clogging her throat.
    A single voice rose on the wings of the wind. Soft. Melodic. Alluring. Joley’s voice was incredibly beautiful, a smoky blend of sensual persuasion and emotional outpouring. Her spell singing was mesmerizing and irresistible.
    Prakenskii came out from behind the rocks, his gun already broken down. He sent it spinning out into

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    the depths of the cove as he crossed the sand to Abigail’s side. “It has to be bad for your sister to give me the path to trace her magic. Let me see.”
    “You have to help him.” Abigail wiped at the tears streaming down her face. Her sisters’ exhaustion weighed just as heavily on her as it did on them. She was drained of her physical strength. “I can’t save him, but you can.”
    “If I do, I won’t have the strength to get away from the police.” Prakenskii should have been walking the other way fast, but instead he crouched down