Hidden Currents (22 page)

Jackson was nearly out of air and knew Hannah had to be terrified.
Tell her we’ll be fine, to swim parallel to the shore.
He kicked out strongly, taking Hannah with him, praying she wouldn’t fight. They broke the surface and both gasped for air.
Tell her not to look at the beach, to just keep swimming.

9

ELLE put on the teakettle, resisting the urge to use her abilities to instantly heat the tea. She hadn’t realized how often she actually used psychic talent in everyday life. Hastily throwing on a clean pair of sweats and finding a comfortable sweatshirt in Jackson’s bureau, she started into the kitchen when Bomber gave a short, alarmed bark. She turned toward him when the first wave of panic hit her. Something was terribly wrong, and Jackson had inadvertently pulled out of her mind. And when she reached for him . . .

Her throat closed and she gasped and fought for breath. Fingers closed tightly around her throat and pressed deep, choking her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she found herself on the floor, dizzy and weak, gasping, tears burning in her eyes as she tried desperately to pull nonexistent fingers from her throat. Was she losing her mind? She tried to reach for Jackson. Dimly she could hear Bomber barking.

I’ll kill everyone you care about if you don’t come back to me. Do you hear me? I’ll keep killing until you come back to me.
The voice whispered in her head, a soft menace that filled her mind and amplified her fear to the point of terror. She felt herself slipping, letting go and then Bomber’s wet tongue slapped her face repeatedly. When she opened her eyes, Jackson was there, flooding her mind with need, with a strange calm, with a demand that she aid him.

Hannah.
She whispered her sister’s name, reached out and found Hannah shivering uncontrollably, afraid for her unborn child, for Jonas, for all her sisters. She could hear Hannah’s silent scream as she joined with her and immediately felt the impact of the cold water. For a moment they were together, swept out to sea, trying to peer through the heavy veil of fog and unable to make out the shore.
Kick. Swim,
Elle urged, and Hannah tried to help Jackson by using her long legs, but she was so weak.

Elle felt Jackson there, strong, fierce, and it steadied her. She took a deep breath, sat up, using the dog to help her stagger to her feet. Patting him, she sent Hannah warmth and strength and reassured her that help was on the way. She touched Jonas’s mind, and knew it was true, he was coming at breakneck speed, Ilya following close behind. Because they were locked so tightly together, there was no way to hide from Jackson the way her brain misfired, the tiny electrical shocks that jolted her. She could feel the blood trickling from her mouth and nose and she accepted the fact that she wasn’t simply risking her life to aid them, she was risking becoming a vegetable. Her brain desperately needed healing, and she was only adding to the stress it was under, deepening the lesions, ripping open the wounds in order to save Jackson and Hannah.

Damn it, Elle, pull back, we’ll make it.

I can’t do that. You know I can’t, not when both of you are in danger. Don’t fight me, Jackson.
Because she couldn’t survive without him. She didn’t say it to him, not even telepathically, but she knew he felt it, because he immediately stopped all resistance and let her flow easily into his mind.

I’m trying to get her to stay calm. She can’t panic. Have her swim parallel to the shore.

She can’t. She’s already exhausted, drained of all energy by the healing she performed, and trying to move her arms and legs is impossible.
Elle made certain to keep her voice very calm, not wanting him to feel the pain lashing through her head. She moved outside and headed swiftly to the beach.

Tell her to turn over and float for me.

Elle pushed the command into Hannah’s sluggish mind. Hannah tried, but something was wrapped tightly around her leg and arm, refusing to let her go. For a moment the image of a monster octopus was in Hannah’s head.

It’s the kelp,
Elle told him. Now she was on her knees in the sand, holding her head.
The kelp has her trapped. You’ll have to free her, Jackson.
She tasted blood in her mouth and her eyes stung as her vision blurred. She wiped at them and her fingers came away stained with blood.

She waited for what seemed like forever, feeling Jackson’s mind, the icy invasion, slowly creeping into his brain, slowing his thoughts and reflexes. She couldn’t keep both of them going, so she had to help Hannah, so much weaker than Jackson, although everything in her reached for him. It felt dark and cold and lonely where he was and she could feel his lungs burning. At last he seemed to reach for air.

Tell her we’ll be fine, to swim parallel to the shore. Tell her not to look at the beach, to just keep swimming.

With a sinking heart, Elle realized Hannah couldn’t possibly swim. She had already slipped from the first stage of shaking uncontrollably to a much deeper sleep state. Her mind had slowed way down and the continual shivering had nearly ceased, a bad sign as the shivering was the body’s way of trying to keep her temperature up.

She can’t swim, Jackson, she’s too far gone.
There was despair in her voice.
I’m coming for you in the dory.

No! You’re not strong enough, Elle. You couldn’t get either of us in the boat. Jonas will come. You know he’ll come.

Even in her mind, Jackson’s words slurred, but he was still holding Hannah to him. She did the only thing she could think to do, send him and Hannah as much warmth as possible.

Bomber went into a frenzy of barking as first Jonas’s sheriff car and then Ilya’s truck, nearly bumper to bumper, slid around the corner of the yard. The dog nearly went insane, snarling and barking as the two men bailed out, running past Elle for the shore. It took Elle a couple of minutes to remember to give him the dismiss command, stopping the dog from barking and adding to the chaos of the moment. Ilya stopped to lean over Joley, who waved a feeble hand toward the fog bank. Jonas actually leapt over Sarah’s body sprawled in the sand as he made for the small double-ended Oregon dory Jackson kept aground on the higher dune.

The dory was hitched to an old four-wheel-drive truck Jackson kept only for the purpose of launching the boat into the surf. He yanked open the door and started the truck immediately, not waiting for Ilya as he drove backward into the waves. He was grateful that Jackson always had his equipment in top running order. Leaping from the truck he released the boat and Ilya jumped into the driver’s seat to pull away from the boat.

“Hurry, Jonas, I can’t keep them safe much longer,” Elle called. Blood streamed down her face like tears. It matted in the hair near her ears and she could taste it in her mouth.

“Hold them, Elle,” Jonas commanded. “Don’t you let Hannah die.”

The surf caught at the dory as Jonas primed the pump with three pulls before he ripped at the cord to start the engine. Cursing when it didn’t start the first time, it caught the second, roaring to life just as Ilya flung himself into the boat. Jonas turned the throttle and the dory reacted fast, cleaving through the surf out toward the sea where he knew Hannah was barely holding on. He could feel her in his mind, her thoughts sluggish, her body freezing.

Although pregnant, Hannah was thin and not far along. She couldn’t last long in the cold water without much body fat. It was only Elle, sending her warmth, trying to keep Hannah’s body temperature up that was giving them the few extra minutes needed.

Jackson, Ilya and Jonas are coming for you. Hannah, just float. I know you’re cold, but Jonas is coming in the boat. Hang on a little longer.
Elle’s brain felt as if it were shredding from the inside out. She could barely breathe through the pain. She went down to one knee and ducked her head low to try to gulp air when she was dizzy and near fainting.

Bomber lunged at something and she caught sight of her sister Sarah, crawling toward her up the path. She hissed the command to disengage, remembered she needed to speak the command in Russian and repeated it, still breathing deep, fighting waves of dizziness.

Jonas opened the dory full throttle and took them out to sea, straight into the unnatural fog bank.
Elle. Give me a direction. Hannah’s too far gone and I can’t reach her.

Jonas felt the sudden impact as the rest of the sisters joined what strength they had left to feed Elle so she could reach Jackson. It was a shaky bridge at best. He felt Jackson’s direction more than getting an actual signal from him. But it didn’t matter, he took the dory over the surf, slicing through the waves and the heavy fog in a straight line to them. Jonas prayed that Jackson had Hannah, as he couldn’t feel her in his mind at all.

Slowing the boat when he knew he was getting close, he chugged along, trying not to panic, his gaze frantically searching the sea. A hand came up out of the water to the right of their position and his heart nearly exploded in his chest. Through the choppy water and the heavy veil of fog, he could just make out Hannah’s body stretched out on top of the water with Jackson’s arm hooked around her neck, holding her to him. Jackson shivered uncontrollably, but he kicked strongly to keep them from going under.

Ilya knelt up in the boat as Jonas pulled alongside them. Jackson tried to help Ilya pull Hannah into the dory, but his movements were slow and clumsy.

“I’ll get her,” Ilya said, his voice tight with apprehension.

Hannah was ice cold as Ilya hauled her into the boat. He took the time to throw his jacket over her and then reached back to get Jackson. The man weighed a lot more than Hannah, and his body was almost dead weight. Jackson set his jaw and looked up at Ilya, nodding to indicate he was ready and as Ilya heaved him out of the water, Jackson surged upward to give himself the momentum to get into the boat.

Jackson sprawled on the bottom of the boat, shivering, teeth chattering, his brain refusing to work. Jonas switched places with Ilya, stripping off his shirt, covering Hannah’s body with his own, rubbing her arms and talking to her in a voice raw with love.

“Hold on, Jackson,” Ilya said. “We’ll get you warm.”

Jackson couldn’t answer, but he held on to Elle, afraid to pull out of her mind, afraid of letting go of her in much the same way he was certain Jonas was afraid to let go of Hannah. In spite of the icy cold, and the way his brain cells refused to function properly, he could still feel her pain, like a thousand needles piercing his skull.

Elle, baby. Hold on for me. Just hold on for me.
He was more afraid for her than he was for himself. He was still shaking, shivering, his teeth chattering, which meant he was still functioning, but Elle was fading away from him, as if she might be passing out.

Ilya ran the dory right onto the beach and leapt out, reaching to help Jonas with Hannah. They ran her up to the house, where Jonas stripped her clothes off and covered her with blankets. He tore through Jackson’s kitchen to find plastic bottles, filling two from the hot kettle and wrapping them in towels to put under Hannah’s arms and a third on her stomach. Jonas covered her head with another blanket and cranked up the heat.

“I’m making you tea, honey, stay there for me,” he encouraged.

Hannah shivered uncontrollably, a good sign that her body was reversing the process of hypothermia, a very dangerous condition, but Jonas was taking no chances, and he caught up the phone and demanded an ambulance. Hannah wasn’t going to be happy with him, but it didn’t matter; she was going to the hospital.

Ilya stumbled in, bent double with Jackson leaning on him, barely able to walk. “I’ll strip him,” he told Jonas. “You get Elle, she’s covered in blood,” Ilya continued, “and then help me bring the others inside. That fog bank is moving this way and it feels wrong to me. The dog is becoming more and more agitated as it looks out toward the sea. Bomber isn’t like that, he doesn’t spook easily.”

Jonas swore, took one last look at Hannah, obviously reluctant to leave her, and then he ran back outside to get Elle. Bomber went into attack mode when he approached.

“Call him off, Elle,” he snapped impatiently. She was on her knees, her head down, the tangle of red hair covering her face from where it had slipped from the loose knot. He saw her hand move, sliding into the dog’s fur and she whispered to him, settling the dog in place so he gazed at Jonas happily. “Yeah, that’s right, boy, you recognize me. I’m your friend. The one who lets you tear into me on occasion for great fun.”

He stepped past the dog and lifted Elle’s slight weight into his arms. Immediately he smelled blood. “Let me look at you.”

Elle roused herself enough to respond. “Just get my sisters off the beach before the fog is all the way in.” Something was in the fog, searching, seeking, and she knew that something was Stavros. It sounded insane. They’d think she was crazy if she told them, but she knew it in her heart. This was Stavros. Maybe she was creating a larger than life villain out of her fear of him and his absolute power, but she believed he could use the fog to look for her. After what had just happened to Hannah, she wasn’t going to take any chances with her family.

“Elle, look at me,” Jonas insisted.

“Trust me, Jonas, you don’t want to look.” Her voice croaked hoarsely.

Every step Jonas took into the house jarred her. Jonas set her down beside Jackson and the sight of Jackson shivering uncontrollably beneath blankets, his face pale and his hair wet, smelling of the sea, set her heart pounding with fear.
He could have killed you.

Jackson’s head came up alertly, his hand reaching unsteadily for her, brushing aside the mass of hair. He gasped when he saw her blood-streaked face. At once, his eyes glittered like two polished black diamonds.
Stop using telepathy. You’re burning yourself out and I’m damn well not allowing it. Stop it, Elle, or I pull out of your mind and disconnect right now.

She gasped with the cruelty of his response. She had
saved
them, using everything she was and she hadn’t been trying to burn herself out—not on purpose. Not to prevent Stavros from wanting her. She wouldn’t do that. Jackson was thinking that way, a kind of psychic suicide, but she had been trying to help them—hadn’t she? Elle covered her face with her hands, unable to look at him or Jonas and Ilya as they brought in Sarah and Joley and laid them in chairs.