Oceans of Fire (49 page)

“They’re two of the largest males. Kiwi was the dolphin that was injured and he’s used to me handling him. That’s what I was doing that day in the cove when we were shot at.” She wiped droplets of water from her face. “I checked him the other day and he’s fine again.”

“What are those scars on some of them?” He was scanning the water, hoping for another encounter.

“Those are called rakes. The distinctive scars actually help us identify individuals. When dolphins are aggressive with one another they ”jaw,“ or bite without grinding down, and they leave a rake mark. Almost all of the dolphins have them. The less serious rakes will heal in time and disappear, but many times the injury is deep enough to cause a permanent scar.”

“Let’s go back down and see if any of them will come back,” Aleksandr suggested. He was reluctant to leave the cove when he might never get such a chance again.

She laughed softly and touched his cheek. “I’m so pleased you love my world. Just don’t be disappointed if they’re already gone.”

“Nothing can make me disappointed. That was truly wonderful.”

They dove together, seeking the darker depths, hoping for another encounter. Abigail hung back and let Aleksandr take the lead. She wanted to cry she was so happy. She’d never seen that particular expression on his face, as if she’d given him a gift beyond measure. He had given her one by embracing her world with the same love and excitement and joy she felt every time she encountered the wild dolphins.

As she swam behind Aleksandr, the water around her unexpectedly erupted, churning and bubbling, coming up from the ocean floor like a great geyser. The water boiled into a frenzy of white froth, cutting off her vision of Aleksandr for a few seconds, but the bubbles were icy cold, as if she’d entered an underwater stream that rose upward. She knew immediately her sisters were warning her of impending danger.

Abigail swam out of the bubbles, using fast hard kicks to fight her way through the water toward Aleksandr. To her horror a darker shadow rose up out of the kelp bed, falling in behind Aleksandr, gliding through the water straight at him. If she could have screamed a warning to Aleksandr, she would have, but he was too far ahead of her and they were underwater. She could only watch in horror, her heart in her mouth, as the diver lifted a speargun.

The warning bubbles burst around Aleksandr just as the spear was triggered. Aleksandr jerked to a halt, half turning back toward Abigail as the cold froth enveloped him in warning. The spear sliced through the water and slammed through the back of his shoulder, driving him forward. The white froth around him ruptured into a volcano of red. Pain and fear for Abigail mixed together, as Aleksandr recognized Leonid Ignatev.

With sure, powerful strokes, Abigail closed the distance between her and Ignatev. She could see him fitting another spear into his gun with calm precision, his attention centered on Aleksandr.

As if he knew she was no threat to him.

Her heart thudded in alarm. She whirled around just as the blade of a knife slid past her. A second diver plowed into her. She caught his wrist with both hands and brought up her foot, kicking with all her strength at her assailant’s groin. He doubled over and the momentum carried her backward, giving her time to reach for the knife in her belt. She went around him, slicing at his air hoses and pushing off of him to put distance between them as he swung around.

The man came at her again, his face twisted with determination. Fish, thousands of them in a tight school, swam between them, another barrier thrown up by her sisters to protect her as the man slashed wildly with his knife. Abigail’s assailant was running out of air and he was forced to begin his ascent to the surface. She fought her way through the screen of fish toward Ignatev, the knife clutched in her hand.

Through a haze of pain, Aleksandr used his legs, kicking hard and fast in an effort to rush Ignatev. The sharp point of the spearhead had gone completely through his muscle and stuck out the front of his shoulder. His arm was useless and it was awkward trying to swim, but he kept using his legs, kicking powerfully as he tried to reach Ignatev before the man could trigger a second spear.

Ignatev settled to the bottom of the cove in the middle of the kelp bed, taking his time with his aim. He knew Aleksandr had no hope of reaching him and there was a satisfying red stain growing in an ever-widening circle around the wounded man. As he raised the speargun, the ground buckled, shook, rippled in a series of small quakes that threw Ignatev to his knees. Sound carried through the water. Feminine voices rose in a melodic chant, the words foreign, but relentless, the volume rising and falling with the swell of the water. Each time Ignatev attempted to take aim, the ground rolled and heaved throwing him forward onto his chest. He gripped the spear hard, silently cursing as the kelp tangled around his ankles and legs.

Aleksandr clawed his way through the kelp to try to reach Ignatev. Abigail was nearly on the man and, to his horror, Aleksandr could see Ignatev turning toward her. Ignatev was a big, strong man and he was skilled at killing. Aleksandr’s arm lay leaden at his side, refusing to help propel him through the water. The kelp hampered his movements further. He called up every reserve of strength and determination he possessed, throwing himself forward to reach Ignatev.

Ignatev launched himself at Abigail, slamming into her as she reached for him, striking toward her head with his fist, the speargun still clenched tightly. She pulled her head back just in time and flicked her wrist over, slicing his arm with the blade of her knife. He whirled around, firing at Aleksandr, timing it just as his enemy was nearly on him. The spear caught Aleksandr low in the side, slicing through skin and muscle and bone, driving him back.

Abigail attacked again, coming in low and mean with her knife, catching Ignatev around the neck with her arm and slamming the small blade into his belly with as much force as she could muster.

He caught her wrist and tore the knife from her hand, stabbing at her several times as she tried to backpedal. The blade was small and the wounds were shallow, but Abigail felt the sting of each and knew she had very little time. As Ignatev loomed over her, arm raised, Aleksandr caught him from behind, spinning the man around and driving forward with all of his weight and strength, embedding the spearhead that had torn through his own shoulder, deep into Ignatev’s throat.

There was one moment of shock, as if the ocean itself had ceased all movement. Abigail saw Aleksandr reach for her and then his arm dropped and the two bodies, held together by the spear, rolled to the ocean bottom.

Libby! Help me! Oh, God, Libby, I need you
! Abigail screamed and screamed over and over in her mind for her sister. Raw pain clawed at her throat and belly as she tore the two bodies apart and hooked her arms under Aleksandr’s shoulders. She was not telepathic, but her sisters were connected. They knew. They were aware. She began to drag Aleksandr through the water, rising toward the surface as she did so. It was impossible to fight the pull of the sea, drag his weight, and hold his regulator in place. It kept slipping out no matter how many times she tried to keep it in his mouth. She was closer to the shore than to the boat and in any case it didn’t matter. He was bleeding out in spite of the cold water. And he was drowning, his lungs filling with water as she dragged his unconscious body to the beach.

Her sisters poured their strength into her, giving her aid even over the distance, all the while attempting to control the sea creatures scenting the blood in the water. It was a long battle, fighting the swells and trying to ride the waves in with Aleksandr in tow. Exhausted, terrified of losing Aleksandr, Abigail remembered, too late, the second man. The one who had gotten to the surface and was lying in wait. Her heart jumped, then began to pound out an alarm.

She found her feet, staggering as she dragged Aleksandr’s dead weight to the wet sand. The man waited for her in complete confidence, a small, infuriating smile on his face. He watched her fight to get the body to higher ground. She dropped to her knees, fighting for breath, throwing off her mask and tearing off Aleksandr’s, and placing both hands over his wounds. It was impossible to stem the flow of blood.

She put her lips against Aleksandr’s ear. “Don’t you leave me.” She began CPR, willing him to breathe again, willing him to cough and get the seawater out of his lungs.

The man took a step toward her, drawing her attention. She glanced up to see him hold up a wicked-looking knife. He smiled as he took a second step toward her. The bullet hit before she heard the shot. It tore through the man’s left eye, snapping his head back so that he crumpled like a rag doll.

Abigail put her head down on Aleksandr’s chest briefly, then looked around her. “Prakenskii! Hurry up. He’s dying. I can’t heal him. My sisters are as exhausted as I am. I know you’re there.”

The wind touched her face. Her sisters. Always with her, as afraid for Aleksandr as she. “Please.” She whispered it. “Please.” She called it out as loud as she could, tears clogging her throat.

A single voice rose on the wings of the wind. Soft. Melodic. Alluring. Joley’s voice was incredibly beautiful, a smoky blend of sensual persuasion and emotional outpouring. Her spell singing was mesmerizing and irresistible.

Prakenskii came out from behind the rocks, his gun already broken down. He sent it spinning out into the depths of the cove as he crossed the sand to Abigail’s side. “It has to be bad for your sister to give me the path to trace her magic. Let me see.”

“You have to help him.” Abigail wiped at the tears streaming down her face. Her sisters’ exhaustion weighed just as heavily on her as it did on them. She was drained of her physical strength. “I can’t save him, but you can.”

“If I do, I won’t have the strength to get away from the police.” Prakenskii should have been walking the other way fast, but instead he crouched down beside Aleksandr. “I tried to warn him. I did everything I could think of to keep him out of this. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“I know you can save him. I’ll help. My sisters will help. And we’ll throw up a cloak of protection between you and the police so you can slip away.” She squared her shoulders. “I know you care about him. Save his life.”

“You’ll owe me. All of you will owe me. When I come back asking, I’ll expect you to aid me.”

Abigail nodded, unsure if she was making a deal with the devil, but uncaring. All that mattered was that Aleksandr live.

Chapter 20

ALEKSANDR heard Abigail’s voice calling to him. The door slammed downstairs. She called out a second time. He loved the sound of her voice calling out his name. There was such a note of eagerness, of joy, that warmed him.

There was always that moment on waking when he still believed he was in Russia, or somewhere in a bleak hotel, alone, without her. He still had nightmares of Abigail being slapped around and worse in Ignatev’s interrogation room and he woke with sweat pouring out of him and her name echoing through the room.

He pressed his hand to his heart and stared out over the railing of the balcony to her beloved ocean. He had always been at home in the city with the crush of people, its strange beauty of light and buildings and the underbelly of deceit and crime. Her ocean soothed him and brought him peace. He suspected it was because he couldn’t separate her love and need of the ocean, such an integral part of her personality, from Abigail.

“Where are you, Sasha?” There was a breathy catch in her voice.

He smiled at the note, that small sign of caring. “Out here, on the deck.” She had moved in with him to take care of him once he was allowed out of the hospital and, although he was renting the beach house on a very temporary basis, Abigail made it feel like a home.

She raced through the open sliding glass door to his side. “You aren’t supposed to be wandering around.” She tried to sound severe but couldn’t hide her relief at finding him settled in a chair.

“I wanted to look at the ocean.” He laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the ring there. “I think the sound puts me to sleep. I dozed off like a two-year-old.”