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Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

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on a stage and sing to forty or fifty thousand people at a time and I receive them as well. It isn’t a big deal, but sometimes it gets to me.”
    “Good grief. I had no idea. Have you told Sarah? She has tons of experience. She worked in security forever. And what about Jonas? He’d have an idea or two.”
    Joley laughed. “He’d make us all quit and hide in a closet. The point is, we’re in the public eye where disturbed people can fixate on us and then threaten us for who knows what reason. A perceived slight maybe. But you work out in the ocean with dolphins. Hotshot hit men shouldn’t be interested in you.”
    “No, they shouldn’t. Maybe it was one of you he was interested in.” Abigail frowned. “I didn’t think of that because the man who was killed yesterday was Russian and the men who killed him were obviously Russian. Aleksandr is Russian and works for Interpol and something big is obviously happening around here. I was going to call Jonas, but have to see if I can help the dolphins first. They saved my life. And if Gene lives, they saved his life too.”
    Joley followed Abbey out of the house. “Why would the Russians even be remotely interested in you—or me, for that matter? I can’t imagine our little Hannah or Kate getting them riled up. And how in the world did you meet that incredibly good-looking Aleksandr?”
    “Remember when I was diving in Patagonia, studying dusky dolphins?” Abigail replied. She opened the front door with stealth, not wanting to wake her other sisters. “Joley, do you think the binding spells we use on the house work? Remember the time Sarah was guarding Damon, before they were engaged, and those men broke in and were going to shoot us?”
    “We certainly got off the subject quick,” Joley groused. “Every time I want an answer to something you just slide right onto another subject. What does that have to do with the hot Russian?”

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    “Don’t call him hot. I don’t want to think about him being hot or cold or anything else. I wish he’d go back to Russia.” Abigail toed one of the two bags she had packed and had waiting on the steps. “Here, you take this one. It’s not that heavy.”
    Joley picked it up and glared at her sister. “Are you out of your mind? This thing weighs a ton. And it doesn’t exactly leave my gun hand free. If we get shot dead, don’t you go blaming me. And for your information, Patagonia is not part of Russia.” She carried the bag to the car, muttering every inch of the way.
    “Are you always like this?”
    “Like what?” Joley stuffed the bag in the backseat and frowned at Abigail.
    “Whine, whine, whine.”
    “Yes. At three o’clock in the morning with no tea or coffee, yes absolutely I whine. Humans aren’t meant to wake up before noon and if you want me to be pleasant, come talk to me then.” Joley slid into the passenger seat and crossed her arms.
    “You are such a baby. Put your seat belt on. And for your information, it isn’t three in the morning, it happens to be six-thirty.”
    Joley shrugged. “Same difference. And if you want cooperation, get back to the hot Russian. It’s the only subject worth discussing.”
    “Believe me, he isn’t worth discussing. Don’t go falling for him, either.”
    Joley snorted. “I don’t fall for men. I run as fast and as far as I can. I am not about to get all gooey-eyed like Kate and Sarah.“ She shuddered. ”The idea is downright scary.“ The teasing glint faded from her eyes. ”Why are you worried about the house?“
    “It let him in. Last night. All of us lit the candles and performed the ritual to bind the house, but he was able to get in. Even Aunt Carol helped and she’s very powerful. Elle and you and Hannah all can cast and yet the house let him in.”
    Joley glanced sideways at Abigail and then away. She cleared her throat. “Him? The Russian?” Joley kept her tone casual.
    “Yes, of course the Russian.” Abbey bit the admission out through clenched teeth. The fog had drifted in as it often did in the early morning and lay heavy over the twisting highway. She drove slowly, not taking any chances, when she felt like racing to get away from the implications of her home’s acceptance of the Interpol agent. “The house allowed him entry after all of us linked together to put a binding spell on it.
    Our magic isn’t working.”
    “That would be one explanation,“

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