Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

here to Europe and back, knows he's dirty, but no one can get anything on him. He's good at what he does and he likes the image of being a good guy, so he works at it. Boris Tarasov, one of his greatest rivals, wants the fear from everyone more than the celebrity image. We're talking billions of dollars, Hannah. That kind of money buys you a lot of protection. They buy police, government officials, customs, you name it, they have someone in their pocket."
    "I don't understand how we ended up getting mobsters after our family. Joley would have said if she'd had a run-in with one of them."
    His hand on her shoulder stopped her and she sank down into the cradle of the earth, surrounded by roots and thicker tree trunks for protection. Her heart began to thump hard again. She could hear the approach of the men following them, the whispered voices with their heavy accents.
    "You're going to be all right, baby," he whispered against her ear, his lips brushing over the thin lines on her face where the knife had slashed her. "Jackson and the others will be here soon."
    "I know." She couldn't tell him she was more worried about him than herself.
    Jonas was a man of strong emotions with an equally strong need to protect. Most of the time, Jonas shielded her automatically from his feelings. He'd been doing it for so many years, he didn't think about it. But there were occasions, like now, when his mind was totally focused somewhere else and she was swamped with the sheer intensity of his fury.
    There was no other word for it but rage. It rolled off him in waves. His face was a grim mask, his eyes glittered dangerously, and although he sent her a small smile of reassurance when she reached up to try to ease the frown on his lips, it was far from the real thing.
    "Jonas, we really are going to be okay," she said. "I know we are."
    His dangerous blue eyes settled on her face. Immediately the flow of emotion stopped.
    "Sorry, Hannah. I wasn't thinking, I should have been more careful." He brushed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "I know we will be."
    "But?" she prompted.
    "But they came after you and they're still coming and that's not acceptable to me. At least I know where to go looking now."
    The rain slowed to a steady drizzle. Three men moved toward them at a right angle, carefully avoiding the stream, obviously unaware of their exact position, but making a sweep to find them. Jonas extended his gun.
    "I'm still feeling strong, Jonas," Hannah said. "The others are feeding me their power.
    I might collapse after, but right now, let me hold them off as long as I can. We'll save ammunition and they won't know exactly where we are. With any luck, they'll be superstitious."
    Jonas shifted again and allowed her to slide out from under him. They moved with care to keep from shaking the brush around them. With the rain falling, it helped to cover any soft sound, but it also muffled the approach of the enemy.
    "How many?" Hannah asked.
    Jonas shrugged. "More than five. Seven maybe." And that worried him. They wanted Hannah bad. Why? The question nagged at him. Who could hate Hannah? It didn't seem possible to him, but the answer was right there—just out of his reach. He could practically taste it in his mouth, but couldn't quite spit it out. His brain worked fast at computing data, and along with his highly developed intuition, that was the reason he was good at his job. Now, when he needed his ability to process data fast, it seemed to be failing him.
    The men were moving through the brush and trees, inching their way, guns drawn.
    Hannah's hands began their graceful motion, her melody changing, the tone much more earthy.
    Near the redwood trees, just in front of their enemies, the ground rippled, moving leaves and redwood needles along with fallen vegetation in a gentle rolling swell.
    The men stopped their approach abruptly. They spoke rapidly in another language.

    "They think they're feeling an earthquake," Hannah interpreted, her voice distracted.
    "That the stream acted the way it did because of…" She trailed off.
    Jonas glanced down at Hannah. Her concentration was once again completely focused on the soil and vegetation where the enemy huddled whispering together. The rolling swells spread out, reaching toward the group, the waves rising and falling with gathering speed. Above them, the trees shook, and as they looked up, brittle branches cracked and splintered, falling from above them to drive like spears into the