Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

ground.
    The thick branches fell with enough force that they drove deep into the soil. Standing upright, each branch formed a piece of fence so that it ringed the men as the ground continued to pitch and roll.
    "I hear sirens," Jonas said. "Another couple of minutes and the troops will arrive." He wasn't good at hiding. He wanted to stand up, and blast away at the men who wanted Hannah dead.
    She suddenly leaned into him, her head lolling back on his chest as his arm came up around her waist to support her. Jonas swore softly and began to ease her to the ground. She clutched his wrist.
    "Not yet. Wait. Tell me if they come at us again."
    Jonas saw the men breaking through the wall of branches, stumbling back away from the area. The swells followed them, but much more gentle now with Hannah's power waning. He sighed. They were going to make one more fast try. He could feel it more than see it.
    The men formed a loose semicircle and began spraying the forest with bullets. He flattened Hannah instantly, swearing as the bullets penetrated into their space, digging into trees and the ground around them. He heard Hannah's soft voice. Melodious this time, the notes familiar. Her affinity with the wind was legendary within the family.
    And the wind answered immediately, leaves rustling as the breeze grew stronger, branches swaying, trunks of trees bending.
    Sharp needles shot from the redwood trees, swarming like angry bees, the sound an ominous buzz as they hurtled through the air at Hannah's enemies. The needles penetrated skin, spearing deep, the stings of hundreds of insects on every inch of exposed skin. The enemy turned and fled, running from the forest as if demons were behind them.
    Hannah turned her face into Jonas's chest and went limp, her body slumping against his, all energy drained out of it. He sat in the midst of brush and trees, Hannah in his arms, listening to cars start up and the rain fall down. She hadn't panicked. She hadn't fallen apart and clung to him in terror, although he could see it in her eyes. She had fought by his side courageously. The next time she called herself a coward, he was going to shake some sense into her.
    Tires screamed on the asphalt drive up by his house and he heard the sound of running.
    "Jonas! Hannah!"

Chapter Twenty
    "THE women need strong, sweet tea," Ilya Prakenskii greeted Jonas as he entered the kitchen. His cool, appraising gaze ran over Jonas, noting the smears of dirt and scratches, the evidence of the explosion. "I felt the surge in power and knew they'd need help. Is Hannah all right?"
    Jonas watched him gather mugs onto a tray. "She's fine. A little shaken up."
    Ilya rested his hip against the counter. "You have something on your mind."
    "The attack on Hannah by the Werners could have been directed by someone with your abilities."
    "I considered that as well, but I was close to the man. I would have felt it." Ilya shrugged his shoulders. "Unless you're implying I was the one directing him."
    "The girls say no and I don't think so either." Jonas rubbed his shadowed jaw. "Is it possible Nikitin has that kind of power?"
    "Absolutely not." Prakenskii added a powder to the tea.
    "That could just be an act."
    "He has no power. He would laugh if you told him anyone had the ability to manipulate energy. I would have known. There's a charge in the air, much like an electrical current, when the elements are being manipulated. You've probably felt it.
    You have your own talent. It's the only reason I'm allowed into this home. You'd have shot me and asked questions later if you believed for one moment that I could have orchestrated the attack on Hannah."
    Prakenskii had read him correctly, Jonas couldn't very well deny the charge. He'd considered the possibility because he had to, but he knew Ilya Prakenskii had saved Hannah's life, not tried to take it.
    "What did you put in their tea?"
    "Vitamins. A healing compound. All natural and nothing illegal."
    Jonas held out his hand for one of the mugs. Ilya handed him one and took one himself. Both drank.

    "I'll give this one to Hannah." Jonas watched Prakenskii arrange cups on a tray and carry it toward the living room. "Why aren't you floating it in like the girls do?"
    Prakenskii shrugged. "Even small things are a drain on energy and I prefer to reserve mine for what lies ahead."
    "And what would that be?" Jonas asked, gliding easily in front of the man, blocking his way to the door.
    Prakenskii glanced at him. "Hunting, Mr.