Dangerous Tides (18 page)

"So true," Hannah agreed.

"Mom will never believe you're the good one, Joley. She reads the magazines. I even cut out articles and send them to her just to make certain she sees them," Sarah said.

"Thanks a lot." Joley grinned at her sisters, completely happy with her wild reputation. "I told Mom to relax, we could handle it, but now I'm not so sure. Has anyone tried looking in the mosaic?"

They all looked down at the beautiful masterpiece on the floor of the entryway into their home. It had been made a couple of generations earlier by seven sisters in the Drake family. In addition to being a work of art, the mosaic was an invaluable tool to them for scrying.

"Let's try then," Sarah said.

"Why haven't we heard from Jonas?" Hannah asked as they all sat on the floor surrounding the large mosaic.

"Shouldn't he be telling us about this man who threatened Libby tonight? He's had plenty of time to intimidate the guy. He does intimidation so well." She glanced up at the clock, uneasiness in her eyes.

"He's had plenty of practice on us," Abbey pointed out.

"Jonas isn't working tonight," Elle said. "Jackson said he went to see his friend Brannigan in Willits."

JONAS Harrington pulled his Jeep Wrangler up to the stop sign at the junction of Highway One. The drive from Willits had gone much faster than usual with so little traffic late at night. He'd put his favorite Joley Drake CD into the player and cranked up the volume, although he'd never admit to singing while he drove. Jim Brannigan had called him earlier in the evening and asked him to drop by the forestry heliport. Jonas stayed longer than he intended before heading for Sea Haven and home.

Brannigan admitted he was worried about the harness Tyson Derrick had worn on the day of the cliff rescue. The safety harness had been cut off of Tyson and taken back to the fire station for examination. Brannigan didn't like the look of it and wanted Jonas to have the laboratory check it out. The harness was in an evidence bag in the front seat beside him. Brannigan had convinced him there was no way the harness could have torn, but the material looked as if it had been eaten through. If it was defective, the helicopter crew needed to know as soon as possible. Jonas promised to overnight the harness to the lab.

Jonas frowned as he turned onto the coastal highway, his mind replaying everything Brannigan had said. If the harness hadn't been defective, why had it failed? He accelerated on the straight away, the only car on the deserted highway. Without warning a bottle flew out of the trees and landed in the middle of Jonas's lane, exploding on impact and hurling flames into the air.

Jonas slammed on the brakes, and the Jeep skidded across the road. Bullets burst through the windshield. He yanked on the wheel in an attempt to use the passenger side of the Jeep as a shield. Tires screamed as he slid sideways, fighting for control of his Wrangler. More bullets tore through the door of the Jeep and slammed into his body, driving him against the driver side door.

It wasn't the first time he'd been shot, but he'd forgotten the intensity of pain, the feel of a bullet tearing through his flesh and cutting a path deep inside his organs. It took his breath, made him sick, so that he had to fight off waves of dizziness. He wasn't dying this way, not from a coward's bullet. There were too many things left unsaid and undone.

The Jeep hit the slight ditch on the shoulder of the road, ran up the embankment and flipped, rolling several times, throwing him around like a rag doll. The seat belt tightened as the airbag deployed and for a moment he was blind and deaf and disoriented.

Jonas tasted blood in his mouth and his chest throbbed as if a truck had smashed into him. He felt for his knife, stabbed the airbag and cut himself loose, his hand finding the familiar butt of his gun. Heart pounding, not sure where the enemy was, he kicked until the driver's door opened enough for him to drop to the ground. He fell hard, his legs rubbery, unable to support him. Using his elbows to drag himself forward, he crawled for the cover of the shrubs and grass of the embankment.

Shots sprayed the grass, thunked into a tree and slammed into his body. Jonas felt the impact tearing through his insides. He rolled the last few feet to make it behind a large rock, his only chance. He was off-duty and not wearing a vest. How many times had he been hit? There was movement by the Jeep but he couldn't see anyone. His arm felt numb. He couldn't feel the gun in his hand, but he had to stay alert. The Drake sisters would come and he would have to protect them.

Jonas stared at the night sky, listened to the pounding surf. The wheel of the Jeep was still spinning, but everything around him seemed to go still and silent. After a moment all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and the steady dripping of his blood onto the ground. "Hannah." He whispered her name to the night.

THE Drake sisters joined hands and stared down at the complex picture, the midnight blue sky, the stars and moon, the shadows forming, beginning to whirl around the edges and creep with long trails inside toward the very heart of the mosaic. The shadow spread, darkening the sky and blotting out the star that seemed to shine much brighter than the others.

Hannah gasped and pulled back with a startled cry, her hands going to her throat as it seemed to swell in panic. She looked at her sisters in desperation. "Jonas." She whispered the name around her raw, hurting throat.

Elle leapt up and ran for the phone, her face still and set, mirroring the same fright as her sisters.

"It's too late. It's too late," Hannah chanted, rocking back and forth. "Why didn't we see this? Why didn't we feel this?"

"We did. We just didn't recognize it," Sarah said, wrapping her arm around her sister to comfort her.

Elle turned back from the phone. "I've called Jackson and he'll get an ambulance started, but we have to go now if we're going to have any chance to save him. All of us." She looked at Libby. "We'll need you again, Lib. It's going to be bad."

Hannah ran for the car. "Hurry. He's not going to die. I'm not going to let him die. Reach for him Elle. I know you can hold him to us."

"I've got him, hon, but he's weak. Very weak. We have to find him fast."

Sarah nabbed the driver's seat and the other sisters quickly joined her in the car. "Where, Elle?"

Elle closed her eyes, her face pale as she sought outside herself for information. "He was coming back from Willits and had just made the turn onto Highway One. Someone shot up the car. He was hit multiple times. He's in pain, thinking of Hannah, counting on her to bring us to him."

"Hurry, Sarah," Hannah urged her.

"Why would anyone want to kill Jonas?" Abbey asked.

Kate held Hannah's hand tightly. "We're not going to let him die."

"Libby, are you up to this?" Sarah asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Libby lifted her chin. "Jonas is family. No way is anyone going to take him away from us. Drive faster, Sarah."

They all felt the same sense of urgency, of impending doom. They'd been feeling the darkness creeping in, holding them in its thrall, but it was an insidious feeling with no direction, no seeming strength until it struck without warning.

Sarah raced along the highway, the cliff on one side, the mountain rising on the other, speeding through the hairpin turns to get to Jonas before the ambulance. They saw his Jeep, so familiar to all of them, upside down, crumpled and ruined. Jonas lay a few feet from the wreckage up on the embankment, sprawled out behind a large rock.

Hearing a car coming, Jonas attempted to roll over. He was still exposed. He had fallen over, unable to keep upright even in a sitting position. He had hoped the killer would come in close, to finish him off, but only the wind surrounded him, rifling his hair and touching his face with gentle fingers. He heard Hannah's voice calling to him to hold on and he felt Elle touching him, gripping his arm as if she could physically hold him to the world.

Now as the Drake sisters' voices grew louder, more anxious, he tried to roll over again, out of the sniper's line of sight. He always told the Drakes he wasn't psychic, but he had a hell of an instinct for danger and he knew the killer was still close by.

Hannah's face swam into focus. There were tears in her eyes, running down her face. Sinking onto the ground, she lifted his head gently and propped him in her lap. "We're here, now, Jonas, you're going to be fine."

He tried to warn her, but he started choking on blood and turned his head so she wouldn't see. He could feel the sisters surrounding him with heat and energy. Overhead thunderclouds blew up fast and furious, leaping straight up like a tower.

A bullet plowed into the ground close to Libby. Jonas brought up his gun and tried to shove Hannah towards the relative safety of the nearby ditch. Elle spun around facing the direction of the killer, throwing her hands into the air. Above them, the sky crackled with electricity and on the other side of the road, below the cliffs, water smashed into rocks with a terrible fury.

Jonas coughed and fought to breathe. His lungs were filling with blood and he was drowning. Without Elle holding him to her, he knew he was slipping away, fast reaching the point where even the Drakes would be helpless to pull him back. The gun fell out of his hands, his fingers too weak to hold the grip. Desperate, he looked up at Hannah.

"Elle! Elle, we're losing him," Hannah cried, hunching her body protectively over Jonas. "Help us."

Elle hesitated a moment, fearing for her sisters' lives, but the call to save Jonas was too strong. She turned back to Jonas.

A sheriff's car skidded to a halt, shielding the circle of Drakes from the road. Jackson emerged, gun drawn, face set, eyes as cold as ice. "Backup's coming, Elle. Take care of Jonas."

Two more police vehicles arrived, one from the city of Fort Bragg and one highway patrol. They used their cars as a barricade to help protect Jonas from the gunman. Obviously the shooter determined he was outmatched because there was no more gunfire. Other officers arrived and spread out to do a search.

The residents of the small towns up and down the coast nearly all had scanners and they would come immediately to see if they could help. Many were reserve for the sheriff or fire departments, helping one another when most aid was far away. Jonas was popular and the instant word got out that he was shot, they would come fast and there would be many of them.

Jackson pushed into the circle, kneeling beside Jonas. Blood was everywhere, soaking into Hannah's clothing, seeping into the ground beneath the sheriff and sprayed across the boulders behind them.

"Can you save him?" Jackson asked without preamble, his face set in hard lines.

Libby held her hands an inch away over his body and closed her eyes, feeling for his injuries, mapping them out, seeing them even more clearly than if she were reading an X ray. She swallowed hard. Four bullets had torn through his body, damaging organs and ripping through veins and one artery. She had to fix that fast or he was gone for certain. One lung had collapsed.

The internal damage was severe. This was going to be very bad. The worst damage and the most dangerous was to the pulmonary artery, the main supplier of oxygen to the lungs. Blood was already filling Jonas's lungs and beginning to suffocate him. If Libby waited for the ambulance to take him to the hospital, it would be too late. There was no way they could repair the artery fast enough to save Jonas—the damage was too severe.

"Hannah and Elle, you'll have to help me with this fast." Hannah and Elle both could heal to some extent, not with Libby's power, but she needed them. "Jackson, keep everyone else away but tell the paramedics he'll need blood when we're finished. Lots and lots of blood."

"It could get ugly," Elle cautioned. "We aren't in Sea Haven and people from all these towns know Jonas and don't know us."

"Just get it done. No one will bother you," Jackson promised.

Libby could feel the desperation in her sisters—in the gathering crowd as they arrived from nearby towns, some already weeping. The mob was growing larger and she caught a glimpse of the ferocity on Tyson's face as he arrived, striding toward them with determination. She closed her eyes, took a deep cleansing breath and focused everything she was—everything in her—on Jonas.

The pain hit with the force of a hurricane, a terrible intensity that took her breath and robbed her of her ability to think. She heard the collective gasp from her sisters and forced herself to rise above the agony, to take them with her. She needed their strength and focus, the tremendous circle of energy they could generate together. She called up the light and energy that was always there, always waiting, from somewhere deep inside her. It welled up and poured through her to Jonas. Her sisters connected; Hannah, nearly as strong even in healing as Libby; Elle, equal to Hannah, a force to be reckoned with. Sarah, Kate, Abigail and Joley sent their energy, their strength surging into the three sisters as they healed Jonas.

Libby focused on the worst of the injuries, the artery in desperate need of repair. She'd been right, Jonas would have died if they'd waited to transport him. He might die now, his wounds were so severe. She breathed away the fear and concentrated on the mess in his chest and abdomen, the two worst wounds. She felt Hannah and Elle with her and it was a comfort that she wasn't alone trying to fix such a massive destruction of a human being.

As if in the distance she could hear the wail of the ambulance as it arrived, as the people around them divided into two camps. Matt Granite, Damon Wilder and Aleksandr Volstov stood shoulder to shoulder with Jackson, preventing anyone from getting to the mortally wounded sheriff and interfering with the Drake sisters and their work. Inez from the grocery store joined them, followed by Donna from the gift shop and Gene Dockins and two of his sons. Matt's brothers joined the growing circle around Jonas, followed by Mason and Sylvia Fredrickson.

Tyson couldn't believe his eyes. The sheriff, lying wounded, covered in blood, desperately needed immediate medical attention, but he was surrounded instead by the Drake sisters. Even though Libby was a doctor, reputed to be a damned good one, the belief that she could heal the sick and injured was so ingrained in her, they were delaying getting Jonas real help. He was furious to think that besides Libby, several of the officers and many of the townspeople of Sea Haven appeared to be completely brainwashed. The atmosphere reeked of mass hysteria and a good man was going to die because of it.