Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

important would ask me to another big event, but so far nobody important has bothered. I swear, Hannah, you don't even want it and you have this awesome career and I'm dying to be in your shoes and I can't get anywhere."
    "That's not true, Sabrina." Hannah was trying to see over the mass of people, judging how far it was to the door.
    She was tall, but there were just too many bodies and she couldn't see beyond the swarm of people crushing them. She glanced behind her. Nikitin and Ilya were following fast, the crowd parting for the bodyguard. Her agent hurried to keep up with them, determined not to be left behind. It was no wonder she suddenly felt sick with fear. They were trying to catch her before she got away.
    Ilya called out to her, suddenly breaking away from the other two men and shoving partygoers out of his way. Hannah's heart lurched and she whipped her head around, nearly bumping into Sabrina as they tried to push their way forward.
    "What's wrong?" Sabrina demanded, glancing over her shoulder. "Is that man chasing you?"
    "Yes," Hannah admitted, too frightened to lie.
    "Who is he?" Sabrina inserted her shoulder into a slim opening between two men and pushed her way through, dragging Hannah with her.
    "Nikitin's bodyguard."
    "Good grief, Hannah, why are you running? Everyone who's anyone will be at his party—unless you did something to Nikitin. You didn't, did you?" Sabrina risked another quick glance. "He's catching up, move faster. Did Nikitin make a pass at you?"
    Hannah's heart thundered in her ears. With every step, terror gripped her harder. She walked faster, bumping into people as she threw quick, nervous glances over her shoulder.
    Hannah! Stop right now!
    The order was sharp and clear and pain burst through her head as she felt the lash of a holding spell. She broke it, whipping her head around toward the door. It was right there. Freedom. Two more steps and she would be outside, where she could call on the forces of nature to aid her. She collided with a large body and a hand gripped her arm to steady her.

    "WHY hasn't she gone back to the hotel?" Jonas demanded, pacing as he watched the television set. "You'd think she'd at least check her cell phone. She didn't even check her messages after the fashion show. She didn't need to attend the party. That's not part of her contract, is it?"
    Sarah sank into a chair and stared at the screen. The party was in full swing, reporters interviewing designers and movie stars rather than the models. She caught a glimpse of a couple of the other runway models she knew by name, but Hannah had disappeared into the crowd. The entire scene was crazy. Loud music, outrageous clothes, too many famous people all vying for the camera. There was no way to find Hannah in the crush, unless a reporter wanted an interview and Hannah never gave interviews. Still, she watched, straining her eyes.
    Jonas was so edgy he was affecting the Drake family home. The walls rippled with the tension filling the house. It seemed difficult to breathe, the air too thick. Sarah couldn't look away from the screen, afraid if she did, something horrible would happen.
    "There's Sabrina." She sat up straighter, her eyes glued to the dark, sleek-haired woman as she pushed her way through the crowd. "She looks like she's talking to someone else, just out of the camera's view, Jonas. I'll bet that's Hannah and they're leaving."
    The camera panned a wider view and Sarah caught a glimpse of Hannah. She appeared to be hurrying, her long hair flowing behind her, her face strained as she glanced back over her shoulder. Several feet behind her, Ilya Prakenskii shouldered his way through the mass, clearly chasing her. Sergei Nikitin and Hannah's agent followed in the bigger man's wake.
    "Oh, God, in front of you, Hannah," Jonas shouted, suddenly rushing toward the television. "In front of you, damn it, look in front of you. Oh, God, no! Hannah!"
    He drew his gun, an automatic gesture, but there was nothing he could do as Hannah turned her head and the knife slashed across her face. He watched helplessly, the arc, the man's determination as he relentlessly kept driving the knife home. Her face. Her chest. Her abdomen. She brought up her arms, a pitiful defense against a madman. He kept slashing and stabbing, over and over, using his body strength with every swing.
    Jonas heard a raw, torn cry of utter, absolute anguish, knew it had been ripped from his soul. He dropped to his knees, unable to stand,