Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

Sarah, she felt stupid. She never drank, was always careful, and now, when she needed her wits about her, Ilya Prakenskii had not only witnessed her stupidity, but had to save her from it.
    "I'll let go if you don't do anything stupid like call the wind."
    Hannah threw back her head, eyes glittering, fairly shooting sparks at him as her temper began to rise. She always stayed in control—unless Jonas provoked her.
    Tempers weren't a good thing when one wielded power, but the bodyguard deserved everything he was about to get.

    Tiny flickers of flame ran up her fingertips, over her hands to her wrists, where his fingers had settled into a viselike grip. He snatched his hands away as the flames flashed over him, hot enough to warn him off. He stepped back.
    "Good party trick. You should have used it on your friend."
    "Thanks for your help."
    His cold eyes slid over her, his face without expression. "I can see how grateful you are."
    "I am grateful. But I'm not stupid." Although she had been for accepting the drink in the first place. "I don't want you near Joley."
    "Why are you so worried?"
    She couldn't read him. Whether she was touching him, or standing close, she should have been able to read his thoughts and emotions, but he was a blank slate. The glimpses of violent memories were gone. She studied his face. He looked dangerous.
    It was in the set of his shoulders, the fluid way he moved and the direct, cold eyes.
    "Why would you be worried about Joley?" Ilya dropped his voice until it was a low whisper, impossible for the sound to carry farther than her ear. "She's a spell-singer, isn't she?"
    Hannah's heart lurched. She struggled to keep her face composed. She bunked. He noticed. He noticed everything. "I'm not certain what you mean." There were few spell-singers in the world, not legitimate ones, not like Joley. She could call on the power of the one perfect note that supposedly had been used to create the world. The forces of the world, of the universe itself, could be drawn to do her bidding. In the hands of someone like Sergei Nikitin, Joley would be a weapon of destruction. He had no way of controlling her, or holding her—unless Ilya Prakenskii had the same talent.
    Was that even possible?
    She resisted the urge to wipe her hand over her face, certain she was beginning to sweat. Was Prakenskii strong enough to control Joley? The thought was terrifying.
    "You look pale, Miss Drake," Nikitin said, his smile solicitous. And false.
    Hannah's muscles clenched. She felt trapped. She managed a smile, slipping into her professional mode. No one could look haughtier than Hannah Drake. She even put one hand on her hip and struck a pose, as she flashed her small disdainful smile. "I'm feeling much better, thank you, Mr. Nikitin. Did you enjoy the show?"
    "I couldn't help but think none of the clothes would suit your sister. Joley has her own style. Don't you agree?"
    She didn't want Nikitin even saying Joley's name. Without conscious thought, she stepped toward the rail, her hands moving up and out. Prakenskii glided forward, wrapping his arm around her waist, pinning one arm to her side, firmly catching her other arm and bringing her wrist to his face as if examining it.
    "You aren't injured, are you?" he asked, his blue eyes like daggers. You will be if you threaten him .
    The threat was clear in her head, as if he'd spoken the words out loud. He was telepathic, which she knew. Joley complained he often spoke to her. And now he was in Hannah's head as well. The situation was getting worse and worse. It was no wonder she'd seen three rings around the moon. It was no wonder she'd been afraid to come on this trip alone. She should have considered that Sergei Nikitin would show up at Fashion Week in New York. He was always where the action was. Few people knew him for what he was.
    Hannah refused to engage in a telepathic conversation with Ilya. The more he knew of her, the more power he would wield—and he was definitely looking for information on Joley. All this time, she had thought Sergei Nikitin was interested in her sister.
    Joley's public image was wild, a party girl. Recently there had been a terrible scandal, pictures of Joley with her long dark hair, pressed up against a window nude with her mysterious lover draped all over her. Only Joley had dyed her hair dark after the pictures had been taken, and she'd allowed the scandal to hit her full force, when the pictures weren't of her at all. Nikitin's interest