Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

moved fast, before either of them could protest. He’d deliberately donned a dark-colored shirt and he went out through the bedroom window, already reaching for his spies. One owl circled above the house while another sat in the high branches of a tree just up on the ridge. Both were agitated.
    Lev swore under his breath and glanced at the sky. There were clouds, some dark and heavy, which might be a good thing. He started up the ridge and the owl circling screeched a warning. He let his mind expand. He hadn’t wanted to take possession and see through the owl’s eyes because it weakened him, but he had no choice. The frantic cries of the bird indicated trouble elsewhere. He circled the house, coming in under the cover of a small terraced section of rhododendrons.
    The scent of gasoline was strong. A wide swath of brush and grass had been soaked in a large circle surrounding the house. He could just make out a dark shadow moving fast for the ridge. He gave pursuit, drawing his weapon and racing over the uneven ground. The shadow turned and what looked like a gun was attached to a hose that led to a pack on his back.
    Flames shot from the gun and spread across the ground until a dozen fires flared up. The man used his hose as a fireman might, and all along the wide circle more fires blazed red and orange. Hungry tongues licked at the fuel and rolled over the ground to connect like the bright dots of the tail of a fiery comet.
    Energy sang in the air, a large powerful force, dark with hatred and a determination to destroy. The man had gained the ridge where he could watch his creation take shape. As he directed the flames to flow together to close any possibility of escape, Lev attacked, using the owls, calling them down, talons extended, eyes and ears sharp.
    Rikki! Get on the porch. Call the rain down. Do it now and do it fast!
    248

    Lev had complete faith in her. If there was water in those heavy clouds, she would bring them pouring over the flames. Sprinting, he skirted around the edge of the circle of fire. As he started up the terrace, a bullet whined next to his ear. The arsonist had a gun of his own.
    Attack, Lev ordered the birds.
    He dropped flat, counted to five and took off running again. The owls dove at the fire starter, dropping out of the sky like bombers. Birds of prey were predators first, and they went for the face and eyes. The man screamed horribly and threw his arms up to protect his head as he stumbled, running for his truck.
    Lev didn’t have a clear shot at him, but the arsonist fired three more times, presumably at the owls diving at him. The truck took off, fishtailing down the road.
    Follow him, Lev ordered.
    The owls circled and took off in a straight line, wings flapping hard, silent predators stalking prey. The clouds burst open and water poured down, drenching the farm, the house, the grounds surrounding the house and the trees and plants. Smoke billowed into the air and the fire hissed in protest.
    Rikki walked toward the fire, her hands that of a conductor. He could hear her voice in the distance now, a song of love, rising with the ferocity of the rain, pounding the fire with a deluge fit for a waterfall.
    The fire was no match for Rikki’s concerto, no longer fed by a fire element, no longer pushed by a dark force, it ceased roaring, tried snarling and then succumbed with a few more hisses to the onslaught of the downpour.
    He stood admiring her, with her face upturned to the rain, walking unafraid toward her worst enemy. He loved her more in that moment—with the dark clouds rolling and thunder cracking, Rikki stood unflinching as she directed her symphony. She calmly circled the burned grass, unhurried, taking her time to make certain there was no stray ember working its way beneath the layers of pine needles and vegetation to erupt when least expected. She ruthlessly soaked the area, until the water stood in deep puddles. Only then did the torrent ease.
    Lev looked past her to Blythe, who stood on the porch, one hand pressed to her heart, her expression awed as she watched Rikki. He felt the same way, shocking admiration and wonder, overpowering respect at her ability to manipulate water. He was used to psychic gifts, but an element—
    that was true power.
    There was no point in trying to track the arsonist. The owls would do a better job and in any case, he would need medical attention for the artwork 249

    on his face caused by the slashing talons. His time was