Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

by Christine Feehan

  "You didn't do anything wrong, Brian. Of all of us, you're the only one who tried to do the right thing. None of this is your fault. And certainly Dean's death isn't. That's on whoever killed him, and we don't know that it was Nikitin."

  "Thank you for that, Joley," Brian said.

  He went out the door, leaving her standing alone in the silence. In emptiness. Because that was her life. Empty. Having spent hours of happiness with Ilya, the sheer loneliness was that much harder to take. Maybe that had been Logan's downfall. When Tish stopped traveling so much with them, he couldn't take being alone. Maybe that was the reason Denny couldn't resist the groupies and Rick and Leo partied so much. She could understand how Brian, after so many years of emptiness, had turned to someone he thought it was safe to love.

  She flipped open her phone and called Jonas. When it came to her family, she knew they were rock-solid, could always be counted on, but he was going to go berserk on her. She told him the entire story. All of it. Including her downfall with Ilya. She skated over Brian, but she knew he got the gist of it, and one thing about Jonas was his absolute silence when she spoke to him in confidence—which she'd been smart enough to insist on before the conversation even got started.

  She had to hold the phone away from her ear until he got done swearing and telling her to get her ass home now. Tonight. On a plane. She stood for what seemed like forever before his rant stopped and she could speak again.

  "Jonas, I cannot cancel the rest of my tour. We're sold out at every single venue. In any case, if we did cancel, that would certainly tip off Nikitin that Brian told us everything."

  "I don't give a damn. You get home to the house that eats people and I know you'll be safe. Bring the band if you need to, but get where we can protect you."

  "It's not like I'm going to be poking around asking questions. I'm not stupid." She made a face. "Okay. I take that back, I'm stupid where men are concerned, but not about safety."

  "Nothing can happen to you, Joley. I'll fly to Dallas with Aleksandr and Jackson and we'll help provide protection. Aleksandr knows a great deal about the mob, and once Jackson puts the crosshairs on someone, they're dead."

  She sucked in her breath. "You can't do that. I mean it, Jonas. First of all, I absolutely am not risking my family. You promised you'd be reasonable. Don't fly off the handle. If you all come down here, my sisters will come."

  "Over my dead body."

  "You know they will. Come on. Think with me. If you come to Dallas right now, my sisters will follow, and that would have the same effect as if I canceled the tour. Nikitin would know Brian gave him up and he'd have him killed. Tell me I'm wrong."

  There was more swearing on the other end. Jonas finally sighed. "Listen to me, Joley. Really, for once in your life, listen to me. Hannah, your sisters, your parents, and me, Joley, we wouldn't survive it if anything happened to you. You're like the sunshine in this family. Nothing would ever be the same. I'll gather as much information as possible here. Aleksandr will be able to tell us more about Prakenskii, but you stay the hell away from him. My gut says he's some kind of cop, but I've been wrong before. He's sided with our family numerous times, and between you and me, I know he's the one who took out the mobster threatening Hannah. He did it to make certain the feds didn't keep him alive where he could direct reprisals from a cell."

  "That hit benefited Nikitin, though, didn't it? I heard you talking to Jackson about it." Joley began pacing up and down the narrow corridor of the bus.

  "You shouldn't have been listening." There was an edge now to Jonas's voice, something that happened a lot with Joley.

  "Sorry, I find your whispered conversations so intriguing."

  "That's not funny, Joley."

  Her fingers tightened around the phone. "If I don't laugh, I'm going to cry. I'm counting on you to figure something out. I'm doing the concert tonight, and I'm going to have Jerry announce that we have to leave right after so no one will have a chance to go to that party."

  She could feel Ilya's presence now. He was close—very close—and her heart began to beat faster in anticipation of seeing him.

  "You just remember there's already been one murder, Joley. If it's about Brian, Nikitin won't hesitate to teach him another lesson."

  "I'm scared enough, thank you very much. I've got to do the sound check. My poor sound crew is probably having fits. I've got to go, Jonas, but I'm counting on you to save us."

  "That's my specialty, honey. And I'll find out everything I can on Prakenskii, but if he's undercover, I don't want to blow it for him or raise any red flags. Stay away from him."

  She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she had, wishing it wasn't already too late. "Please don't tell Hannah how stupid I've been."

  "No one thinks you're stupid, Joley. Please be careful. I'll call back with information and a plan."

  "I knew you would. Thanks, Jonas."

  Joley slipped the phone into her pocket and went to the door of her bus. Taking a deep breath, she opened it, knowing Ilya would be waiting to escort her to the sound check. She was right, and the sight of him took her breath away. He was so handsome, so mesmerizing, his deep blue eyes hypnotic. She inhaled his scent, and went dizzy with wanting him, weak with need. She forced a small smile and glanced at her watch.

  "Sorry. I'm so late. We're going to have to hurry." Deliberately, before Ilya could respond, she looked beyond him to spot Logan stepping out of the other bus. She waved and beckoned him over, trying to hide her relief.

  "Joley, stop it." Ilya hissed. "What's this going to prove?"

  She flicked him a quick look from under her lashes and then shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about other than I'm hours late with my sound check and my crew's had to wait on me."

  She kept walking toward Logan as fast as she could, and, thankfully, Logan hurried toward her. Before Ilya could say anything else Logan was there. Deliberately she stepped to the other side of him, putting him between Ilya and her. She should have known it wouldn't work. Ilya simply dropped a pace back smoothly, looking as stone-cold and as professional as ever.

  "Baby all right?" she asked quickly.

  "Lissa's great. I think everyone holds her too much. We get her down, and one of the guys will come in and pick her up right out of her little carry crib. Tish deals with it, but I think it makes it hard to keep to a schedule."

  "And you and Tish? How's that coming?" Joley prompted. She was so aware of Ilya. So aware of the rise and fall of his chest, his every breath, even his heartbeat. Her palm itched and tingled no matter how much she rubbed it against her thigh seeking relief.

  "Not bad. I'm going to have to do a lot more groveling."

  She flashed him a look. "And I hope you know you deserve to grovel. She shouldn't take you back."

  "I know that. But I'm not stupid enough to ever lose her again. I love Tish, Joley. It was a dumb mistake. I was drunk and she wasn't there and I was lonely, and if I could take it back, believe me, a million times I've thought of that moment, that one moment when I walked out of that room with that woman. I can't remember what she looks like. I don't even remember her name. I only remember Tish standing there with that look on her face, so happy to see me, and then seeing—knowing—and her smile fading. The light just died out of her eyes. Believe me, Joley, I know exactly what I lost. If I get it back, I'm not going to ever lose it again."

  She put her hand on his sleeve. "Then I wish with all my heart that she takes you back." They were only steps away from the door, and she wanted to run. She could barely breathe through the pain in her heart. It felt like a knife through her chest. She swore under her breath, counting the steps to safety.

  Without warning, Ilya moved fast, a huge graceful tiger inserting his body with fluid grace between her and someone she couldn't see. He actually shoved her to the side and away from him. A woman screamed.

  "Bastard! You bastard, Logan. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to destroy you." Lucy Brady, the woman who had
given birth to Lissa, lunged at Logan, swinging her fist. In her fingers, she clutched a broken bottle.

  Ilya restrained her, taking her to the ground. "Keep moving," he ordered. "Both of you. Get inside."

  Logan hesitated. Joley grabbed his hand and yanked him with her, running now, into the building and toward the safety of her crew. Glancing back, she saw more security guards converging on the snarling, spitting woman on the ground, and Ilya calm and cool holding her, uncaring of her threats.

  Chapter 12

  JOLEY flashed across the stage like quicksilver, looking so sexy Ilya found it hard to tear his gaze from her. She was all glitter and flash, sultry and dazzling, burning so hot, flying so high, he knew she would crash after the performance. He had done that. Driven her to the breaking point. To everyone else she looked strong and confident; to him she looked vulnerable and fragile. She wanted the world to think she was just fine—she wanted him to believe it, but he knew her too well.

  He had crushed her with his careless handling. For the first time in his life his training had utterly failed him. Joley was everything he had ever dreamt of—more. She had given him back humanity, taught him to feel, to believe in hope. He had been careless for the first time in his life, stealing time for himself, forgetting that his life depended on secrecy. And he had been indiscreet, giving her a truth and then pulling back when she accepted it.

  He swore and forced himself to look away from her, to study the audience in the first several rows and then slowly back farther. Her voice played over his skin, a mix of sultry heat and promise that kept his body hard when his chest felt weighed down with sorrow.

  He had absolutely no experience when it came to relationships. None. His instinct, when he realized she was withdrawing, had been to pull her close to him. to force the issue, but he couldn't give her what she needed, and she would have fought him with her last breath. It would have turned into a physical confrontation, and there would have been no winner. So he'd backed off, and now he had no idea what to do to regain her trust.

  He detested this feeling of inadequacy, of indecision. He was a man confident in his abilities, sure of his responses, quick to make judgment calls, and in the most important area of his life, he felt paralyzed by his lack of knowledge.

  His gaze strayed back to Joley. The stage was every bodyguard's worst nightmare. The venue was a bowl with the stage in the center, surrounded by thousands of screaming fans. They had people scanning the crowd, but to find trouble was like looking for a needle in a haystack. And there was going to be trouble. The electric energy of the crowd nearly drowned out the small threads of malevolence he could feel, but he was ultrasensitive to danger and it was there, somewhere in that vast sea of faces.

  "Check the south side," he said into his radio.

  He didn't like the shows in the huge venues. Joley used a rig shaped like a platform bridge that swung her out over the audience. It put her right in the midst of them, up high; she gyrated and sung on a narrow metal path in the air. And when she performed, she was giving it her all. Lights flashed, the sky rained sparkles, and fire rose from the stage. Joley ran and leapt for the platform as it began to swing out over the audience.

  "South side. South side," Ilya hissed. His gut was in hard knots now. "Get the camera on her. Make certain there's nothing wrong with that platform." He had inspected it himself. With his belly churning and that heaviness of dread weighing down his chest, he knew the small threads of dangerous energy were gathering fast.

  There were a million tricks one learned as a personal protector, but he realized most of them went out the window when the person you were guarding was your soul. He had to keep forcing his gaze from straying toward her. His heart beat too fast, and he tasted fear in his mouth. If someone wanted her dead, it would be so easy. A gun—hell, in this crowd, whoever shot her could probably tuck the gun into his shirt and walk away.

  He took a deep breath and pushed it all away, falling back on years of cool distance. He forced himself back under rigid control, knowing that if he allowed emotion to rule him, he would lose this battle. He let his senses flair out, uncaring that he would be gathering information it would take his mind months to get rid of.

  The stadium was on its feet as the band swung into one of the favorites. Joley looked like mouthwatering candy as she moved over the bridge. The crowd responded with wild screams and waves, reaching up toward her, thunder filling the bowl as the people stomped feet and clapped hands to the pounding beat.

  As the platform swung to the south, Ilya shut everything out of his mind but the people under her; he was watching intently for something beyond his vision, something that would register in his mind, in his senses, long before his brain would recognize what his eyes were seeing. People dancing. Women on men's shoulders, arms lifted. His heart jerked and he began moving fast.

  "Just under the bridge. Focus directly under the bridge."

  He raced across the stage, leapt for the stairs going up the bridge. Even as he ran, his training didn't fail him. He blurred his image to keep cameras from focusing on him. Below him he could see the man on the shoulders of another man taking his hands away from the steel. Both men ducked, hands over their heads.

  Joley. Toward me!

  She didn't question or hesitate. As if they had choreographed a dance together, she turned and raced toward him, still singing, still holding the microphone. The charge went off just after she passed the device. Sparks raced to the ceiling, but no more than the dazzling display of light and sound racing around the bowl. The sound of grinding metal was loud as the beam split, one side, jagged and sharp, popping up, catching Joley's arm as she flashed by. The other side dropped down toward the crowd, held only by threads.

  "In the crowd. Two men. One is wearing a striped shirt, the other has on a leather jacket, a long one. Get them. I'll be there as soon as possible to question them." He spoke low into the radio, keeping in the shadows as he moved into a better position to help Joley.

  She went still, keeping control of the situation like the pro she was. "Swing it slowly over the stage, guys, we don't want anyone hurt." Her voice was absolute calm, and it stopped the crowd beneath her from panicking. She sent them a quick sassy grin. "These little things happen at all shows. That's going to get a lot of play on the Internet. Oops, watch Joley fall off the platform. Maybe I'll get really lucky and become famous!"

  The audience went wild cheering. As always, she carried them with her personality and her voice. No one seemed to realize that there was still danger.

  He was standing behind her now, his hand on her, as the bridge moved back into position. He felt the shifting under his feet as it wanted to shred and buckle, and he tightened his hands at her waist in case he had to throw her clear. Joley kept talking, seemingly unaware that her arm was dripping blood. He got a good look at the cut as the lights played over them.

  It's bad, Joley. Your arm's ripped open.

  Tell me something I don't know. Can you do anything to get me through this?

  He didn't hesitate. As the platform went level with the stage, he lifted her to firm ground, turning for a moment, his body blocking hers from sight, both hands wrapping around her forearm. She gasped and went pale. Blood dripped steadily. Warmth spread from him to her, and she took a breath and stepped back.

  Thanks. I can work with this.

  He didn't turn around but kept walking, jumping off the stage as the audience erupted into a round of applause.

  "Aren't my guys great?" Joley asked, then turned and sent a mock scowl toward her band. "Hey! I didn't see any of you rushing to be my hero."

  Denny held up a glass. "Sorry, love, we were taking a break. Did something happen?" He burst into a drum solo that had the crowd laughing and back on their feet.

  The crew discreetly moved the platform back away from the audience as far as possible once it was lowered to the stage, while Joley took the towel Brian handed her and casually wrapped it around her arm.

  "Joley."
His voice was broken.

  "Thanks, babe," she said and stood on her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek where she could whisper reassurances. "I'm fine. We need to keep going here, Brian. Help me, okay?"

  He nodded and backed away from her, but his face was stiff with guilt and fear. Joley straightened her shoulders, ignored the pain in her arm and moved to the front of the stage, peering down at the rows in front of her. Spotting a young girl of about ten who looked frightened, she leaned toward her, flashing her famous smile. "Were you scared just then?"

  The girl nodded.

  "So was I, but not nearly as scared as the time I decided to crawl out my window to go to a girlfriend's house. I was just about your age and she was having a sleepover. My parents said I couldn't go because I'd done something that day at school to get in trouble." She'd put a live mouse in the teacher's drawer because the teacher had yelled at her for writing notes, but she for sure wasn't confessing that. "Well I got stuck half in and half out of that window and I heard my dad coming down the hall. I have to tell you—now that was a truly scary moment."

  The little girl laughed and visibly relaxed. Joley turned back to the band.

  "The father has punished you for your sins." The voice blared over a handheld microphone, loud and commanding.

  Ilya, who had been striding up to the office, paused, holding his breath. Joley could turn the crowd ugly with one tone of her voice. She slowly turned back, shading her eyes with her hand, and a small smile broke out. With Joley, that was like watching the sun break free.

  "RJ. I see you're back again. You just can't seem to stay away."

  "I follow where sin and debauchery take me so I might be an instrument of good. Had you been following the path of righteousness, no evil would have befallen you."