Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

heart pounded hard in her chest and little jackhammers tripped at her temples, but this needed to be done.
    Not by Jonas or Sarah. But by her. She owed him a debt and more, she wanted to look into his eyes and read him the way she could most people, because if he presented a threat to Joley, they all needed to know.
    "Jonas is right, Sarah. I want to see Prakenskii myself. I need to thank him for saving my life, and like Jonas, I want to see if I can read him. I spent a lot of time connected to him."

    "And he has a path to your spirit, Hannah. To your soul. He knows who you are and what you can do."
    "That's true," Hannah admitted, "but at the same time, I have a path to his spirit. He can't block all of us and I need to find out information."
    "But…" Sarah protested.
    "Get dressed, baby," Jonas said decisively. "We'll meet you downstairs." He held the door open. "Sarah? Kate? Let's go see what Prakenskii wants."

Chapter Eleven
    "ILYA, good to see you again." Jonas extended his hand toward the Russian.
    Ilya rose from the chair where Libby had seated him and shook the sheriff's hand. He nodded to Kate and Sarah. "I had hoped to see Hannah."
    "She'll be down in a few minutes," Jonas assured him. "She's doing much better."
    "I was surprised they allowed her home. Another few days in the hospital would have been good for her," Prakenskii said.
    "She needed to be home with us," Sarah said. "And Libby is a doctor. She makes certain Hannah is well cared for."
    Jonas studied the Russian. In the hospital, he had been too consumed with Hannah to do anything but stay by her side and will her to live, but now he looked closely at the man who had saved her life. Ilya Prakenskii gave Jonas the impression of a caged tiger, quiet and watchful, power and lethal intent coiled and ready to spring with razor-sharp claws. It was impossible to try to read behind his piercing eyes. Ice cold, dagger sharp, Prakenskii's eyes revealed absolutely nothing, not even to a professional like Jonas.
    "And it's easy to protect her here, on your own home turf," Prakenskii said, his voice casual. There was nothing casual about the sweep of his gaze as it went around the room, taking in every detail. He focused for a moment on the intricate mosaic tile at the entryway. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his gaze met Sarah's briefly before moving toward the entrance. A polite smile showed white teeth and nothing more as he rose. "There you are. It's good to see you up and around, Hannah."
    She had dressed in a long flowing skirt and a long-sleeved blouse. Jonas closed his eyes briefly as she moved into the room. To him, she was beautiful—utterly—

    absolutely beautiful. The scars were jagged and vicious, bright red and raw, seaming her face and down her neck in angry patches, but it didn't matter. Hannah appeared ethereal to him, mysterious and sexy and the epitome of feminine courage. She had hidden from him—her sisters—reporters and photographers, but had refused to hide from a potential enemy. Her shoulders were straight, her hair streaming down in long spirals, and even without makeup, even with the horrible wounds still so fresh, she appeared elegant, graceful and welcoming.
    Pride swelled in him and Jonas came to his feet, crossed instantly to her side and swept an arm around her waist, his gaze meeting Prakenskii's. It was both a warning and a declaration between men.
    Prakenskii took Hannah's outstretched hand and bowed low. "You are healing nicely.
    Soon, there will be no evidence. Are you sleeping well? Sometimes, after these incidents, one has trouble."
    To Jonas's surprise, Hannah told the truth. "I have trouble, but Jonas and Sarah both warned me I might, so I wasn't surprised or upset by it." She indicated his chair.
    "Please sit down. Would you care for some tea?"
    "I'd like that, thank you."
    Hannah waved her hand toward the kitchen and seated herself opposite Prakenskii. "It was quite unnecessary for you to come all this way to check on me, but I appreciate it." She smiled at the man, but her hand slid down Jonas's arm until her fingers were linked with his and she was squeezing so tight her knuckles were white.
    "Of course I would want to know how you were doing," Prakenskii said. "When one develops such a connection, the interest is always there."
    His accent put a twist to the words and his gaze remained steady on her face. Sarah stirred uncomfortably and Jonas felt a surge of power in the room. He couldn't tell where it came