Drake Sisters 07 - Hidden Currents

carrying a sweet feminine voice with it. Joley Drake. Superstar, with a voice like a siren’s, cal ing to the jel yfish, beckoning them across the water. A spel singer, Joley could persuade anything or anyone with her voice. It drifted like kelp, peaceful and serene, melodious and haunting, and al the while the strains of melody whispered and cajoled the jel yfish, summoning them to her.
    Tentacles lashed the water, the current of psychic energy exploding in answer to Joley’s song, but the huge group of jel yfish moved away from Abigail and Jackson, toward Joley’s voice, propel ed by their need to answer. Jackson and Abbey waited for the migration to pass and then began to swim back to the dory.
    Jackson had taken two strokes through the water, with Abigail on his left side, when suddenly her body jerked hard, the rope between them pul ing taut.
    She clenched her fist and began beating on something unseen beneath the water, striking it over and over, before gasping and going under, her eyes looking at him, desperation and horror on her face. Jackson shoved his mouthpiece into his mouth and dove with her, fol owing her body down below the surface.
    The water was dark, and he could barely make out a massive fin and the torpedo-shaped body, a single, round eye and jaws clamped around Abbey’s leg, her fist punching at its nose and eyes. The water churned and clouded more, obscuring his vision.
    Kicking strongly, Jackson tried to turn, realizing the shark had released Abbey and had disappeared from his sight. He turned to see a huge gaping mouth, the double rows of teeth looking like a circular saw, wicked and primitive and far too massive to avoid. It charged past Jackson and hit Abbey again, hard enough that her body jerked and was propel ed forward. He saw her hand flash as the water erupted into a churning mass of bubbles and debris, once again obscuring his vision.
    His body was drawn through the water rapidly, pul ed by the rope tying him to Abbey. He swam faster, trying to catch up, knife in his fist as he approached the huge shark, trying to get around it to the head. The jaws were clamped around Abbey’s back and stomach, the metal tank crushed in its mouth, Abbey trying to fight as he came up on its left side. He sank the knife deep into the animal’s eye and it reared its head back, opening the wide jaws to release Abigail.
    Another large body shot past him and rammed the shark in the bel y from underneath and Jackson caught Abbey around the waist and shoved his airpiece in her mouth as he kicked away from the shark. A second dolphin took up the attack, slamming hard into the shark’s bel y. As soon as it streaked away, a third and then a fourth took up the fight, the dolphins protecting Abbey, playing a dangerous game of tag team to give them time to escape.
    Jackson didn’t waste the precious moments the dolphins gave them. He swam hard, taking Abigail with him, pausing only to take a breath as he angled their escape toward the dory. He tried to keep them in the trough between the waves, and stay out of Gratsos hidden traps of psychic energy.
    At the dory it took several tries with both of them using ful strength to get Abbey out of the water. Jackson wanted his body completely out, but with his gear and his strength nearly gone, it was a fight to get himself in the boat. In the end he had to remove his weight belt and then his tank. Even then it took him several attempts before he managed to drag himself inside.
    â€œAre you al right,†he asked as he started the engine. “How bad is it?†He didn’t want to take off her suit to look. The tight compression would help slow any bleeding.
    Abigail, half sitting and half stretched out, gave a high-pitched whistle to signal to the dolphins to get out of the area before replying. “I was lucky. It was a juvenile Great White, and by the way, attacks from juveniles are very rare. I’ve only heard of it a couple of times. Now I’m wondering if something disturbed it, if Gratsos or someone like him used the sea to set psychic traps.â€
    â€œTel me how bad, Abbey,†Jackson insisted as he started up the dory.
    Abigail took a breath and forced herself to look at her body. There was a gash on one arm that would require stitches. Along her thigh she had quite a laceration, much larger than the one on her arm, but again, not life-threatening. She looked up at him. “I think