Air Bound

by Christine Feehan

  “What about the other crew members?”

  “I took care of them. Even the chef. No more delicious meals.” He went back to slip zip ties on the captain and Boris in the event that either woke up while he was examining Airiana. Neither man appeared as if he would be waking up any time soon. She’d darted them more than once.

  Maxim stood looking down at her. Her face was swollen on one side, her eye purple now from her encounter with one of Sorbacov’s assassins. He found it particularly disturbing to see the bruises on her face. She looked fragile, delicate, far too innocent to be involved in such a mess.

  He crouched down beside her. Her feet were bandaged but there was no more blood leaking through the gauze. He knew she was awake by her breathing, but she didn’t lift her lashes. He brushed back the hair tumbling around her face with a gentle hand.

  “You’re almost home, baby. We’re close.”

  She smiled without opening her eyes. “I know. I’m just resting, Maxim. I’m all right. More upset over Gorya than anything else.”

  “I’m going to touch you, honey, I have to get under your clothes.”

  She did open her eyes then, all that glorious blue hitting him hard. The impact was felt in the region of his heart. “I trust you, Maxim. You don’t have to tell me that.”

  He pushed her shirt up over her flat belly and narrow rib cage. Already he could see the bruises coming up. The one along her left side was enormous and ugly. He felt carefully with his fingers, looking for evidence that her ribs were broken.

  “I was moving when he kicked me. I didn’t take the full impact,” she assured.

  His expression must have been frightening. Had Gorya been standing in front of him, Maxim might have beaten him to death. “I don’t think your ribs are broken, you wouldn’t be able to take a full breath. Still, this is going to hurt worse tomorrow.”

  He pulled her shirt down and opened her jeans to slide them over her slender hips. His breath caught in his throat. There was more bruising along her hip and thigh. No wonder she wasn’t walking.

  “I should have come here first, Airiana. I’m sorry. They came at me in force and I didn’t think they would try to hurt you.”

  “He didn’t want me to shoot him with the dart gun. He may have thought I killed Boris,” she said.

  He fastened her jeans. “Don’t make excuses for him. If I could find him on the ocean floor I’d kill him all over again.”

  She laughed and then caught at her sides. “Don’t. That hurts.”

  He found it astonishing that she could laugh about anything. The wind shifted, slapping at the yacht hard. The smile faded from her face and she struggled into a sitting position.

  “They’re here, Maxim. We’re surrounded.”

  “I know, baby,” he admitted softly.

  14

  ONE moment there was no sign whatsoever and then the air around them was filled with warning. Maxim knew the men had come from the boat in the distance. He hadn’t detected them because they’d come at him from under the water.

  He took Airiana’s hand. Don’t make a sound. Sound travels at night, especially on open water. We’re going to have to get off.

  He felt the protest in her mind, but she didn’t voice it aloud or even to him telepathically. She nodded her head and turned on the lounger, testing her body’s ability to move. She placed each foot cautiously on the deck and stood. He waited until she got her footing.

  One of the men will board the yacht, stop it and let the anchor down. They don’t yet know the situation on board. They think they’re facing the crew as well as a security force. Once the yacht is no longer moving, the rest will come on board fast.

  This isn’t Sorbacov’s people.

  No. I’m fairly certain Evan sent his men to retrieve you.

  He really is going to keep coming after me, isn’t he? Even once you take me home?

  He can try, Maxim said, his tone grim.

  Evan could send an army, but once Airiana was back on her farm, she’d have his two brothers as well as him to look after her. One Prakenskii might fall, but not three of them. They’d make that farm a fortress.

  I don’t want you to move any more than you have to. You’re going to need all your strength. We’re going to get to the railing nearest the anchor. Can you walk that far? I’d carry you, but I need my hands free.

  I can walk. Can you reload the dart gun for me?

  He took the small gun and pushed in the last of the darts. After these, the only ones I have left are lethal.

  She held out her hand for the small harness with the rest of the darts protected in the loops. He took it to mean if she needed them, she’d use them. He handed it to her silently and Airiana fastened it around her waist, securing it through the loops of her jeans.

  Someone’s on the deck, moving toward the control room, she said.

  He’d felt the disturbance in the air as well. Air was everywhere. Evan’s men definitely needed to breathe it, and there was no avoiding it. When they displaced it, moved through it, or even stood still in it, he could see their exact location, just as if he had a map laid out in front of him.

  Stay low. We need to move now.

  I think I should tell you I’m pretty scared, Maxim. Not of these men, I have no doubt you could take out every one of them if you had to, but I really hate the water.

  I won’t let anything happen to you.

  Airiana knew he wouldn’t, not if he could help it. She followed him across the deck, crouching as low as possible when every step she took hurt. Moving hurt. Bending low. Even breathing hurt. She hadn’t seen too much evidence of him being wounded, but she was certain he was. He couldn’t have gone against the entire crew and security force without having some wound. If he didn’t complain, she wasn’t going to either. Well, she didn’t mind so much voicing her opinion on swimming in the sea at night. That was just plain common sense.

  He indicated the deck and she slid down to sit with her back against the rail, waiting for whatever happened. It didn’t take long. The yacht slowed even more and eventually came to a halt. The thick chain attached to the anchor fed out over the side, making certain the yacht stayed put.

  Immediately, hooks came up over the railing on the deck below them as well as on their deck. Maxim dropped low, fading as he did until he appeared part of the deck itself. She remembered to wrap herself in air, to blur her lines so that anyone glancing her way wouldn’t see her.

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment, shaking inside, but her hands were steady on the dart gun. It wasn’t just her on the deck. Maxim was there as well and he would put himself in harm’s way to protect her. She wasn’t going to do less for him.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a man in a wet suit slide onto the deck just a few feet from Maxim’s head. He slid the tank from his shoulders and laid it carefully on the deck in front of him. Her heart jumped. It looked as if the tank was actually wedged up against Maxim from her angle, but the man looked toward the railing where a second man and then a third slipped aboard.

  They maintained a distance apart of about six feet. She knew by the way the air moved that there were three others on the same deck with them. She took a breath and let it out.

  Are you okay? Don’t move, baby. They can’t see us here, they aren’t even looking.

  He’s so close to you.

  The first man had stayed where he was, signaling the others to check the bar and around the lounge area. Clearly he was the leader. They talked mainly with their hands and she figured Maxim understood the signals. She wished she did. Sitting there feeling exposed and vulnerable just a few feet from one of them was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She had to fight the urge to run continually. Twice the man seemed to look right at her.

  The five men systematically and thoroughly checked the deck and every nook and cranny on
it. The leader stayed where he was, covering the others. She actually felt beads of perspiration running down her body when the air was quite cool.

  She held her breath when they reached the door of the den. This was the owner’s sun deck and most of the rooms were devoted to his pleasure. Two men flanked either side of the door while a third stood in front of it. The leader nodded, and the man in the middle stealthily opened the door. He went through it fast, the others following.

  She couldn’t imagine what they thought finding so many men tied and drugged. One returned to signal to the leader. He spoke softly into a radio and then nodded his head at the man who had come out of the den.

  What are they doing? Her heart pounded. Adrenaline rushed. She knew, she didn’t know how she knew, but she did. The leader had just told his men to kill everyone in the den.

  She heard Maxim swearing in her mind. He rose up like a wraith, right in front of the leader, his knife in his hand, slashing across the exposed throat and catching the body as it began to topple toward the deck.

  Airiana didn’t wait for him. She pushed herself to her feet and ran across the deck toward the open door of the den. Movement definitely attracted the eye, and she’d forgotten all about the other two men who were searching the deck. She nearly ran right into one of them and the only thing that saved her was the fact that she clutched the dart gun in her hands and squeezed the trigger point-blank into his chest, right over his heart.

  The man fell heavily, his rifle dropping from nerveless hands, clattering on the deck, loud in the silence of the night. Hard hands bit at her, lifting her over the body and shoving her back away from the door of the den and down low. She recognized Maxim’s scent or she would have blasted him with the dart gun as well.

  We have to get in there. They’re killing everyone and they’re totally helpless. There were the tears again, clogging her throat. She felt desperate and a little crazy, the adrenaline surging, the fear for the unconscious men eating at her along with guilt and fury that these intruders would be so merciless.

  The other assailant searching the deck faded into the shadows, but his gun burned white-hot, the flashes terrifying as he fired round after round, spraying the upper deck. Bullets hit the bar behind them and riddled the railing. Had Maxim not pulled her down, she would have been dead.

  As the rifle turned away from them still spitting bullets, Maxim threw his knife. The blade hit with deadly accuracy—she didn’t think he could ever miss with his knife. The gurgling sound was terrible, a death rattle she knew would haunt her. The gun continued to fire as the man dropped to the deck, his finger squeezing off rounds until the life drained completely out of him.

  Maxim signaled for her to stay where she was. He shifted positions, a ghost really, a phantom of the night, gliding in deadly silence toward the open den door where two men lay prone, assault rifles at the ready.

  The third man slithered onto the deck like a snake, making his way, using elbows and toes, to his fallen comrade. When he reached the fallen man, he felt for a pulse and turned him slightly, just enough to see the knife protruding from his neck. He rolled toward the railing and the darker shadows there.

  He rolled right into Maxim, who had clearly anticipated the move and was waiting. She caught no more than a small movement as he cut the man’s throat and was gone, blending in, moving stealthily toward the overhang. She forced her eyes to see him, to follow the movement as he became a spider, clinging to the underside of the overhang.

  Her heart in her throat, she watched as he made his way across the ceiling until he was directly above the two men. A noise drew her attention toward the stairs. Hearing the gunfire, three other men had climbed the stairs to investigate. One signaled, first toward the left and then toward the right. A dark-clad man went in either direction, hugging the railing while the first covered them.

  He had a direct line of vision to the open door of the den. Maxim had gone still, blending now with the ceiling.

  Can you shoot him with the dart gun? You’ll have to be accurate and hit him the first time. If you don’t think you can, don’t try.

  Airiana took a deep breath, let it out and took a careful look at her target. He was using the stairwell as his cover. Most of his body lay along the stairs out of sight. Only his head and upper chest showed, the assault rifle in his arms. His head was tucked down, his eyes scanning the deck for movement.

  For a moment she hesitated, but Maxim was totally exposed, and with five men searching for him, someone was bound to spot him.

  She shot the one giving orders in the only real target she had that she knew would take him down—his eye. Her little dart gun was silent, but accurate. The dart hit him square in his left eye and he made a muffled sound—one that made her stomach heave. She forced back bile and watched as he slumped down.

  Maxim shot the two men in the doorway with a silenced weapon, a quick one-two shot, using a silencer and adding air to muffle the sound further. He began to ease back over the ceiling, moving at a snail’s pace, never hurrying, never stopping, just moving back toward the cover of the deeper shadows.

  The two other men weren’t aware yet of their three fallen team members. They began to circle, one moving counterclockwise and the other moving clockwise so they could cover the entire deck. Her heart in her throat, she watched as one of them paused, his attention suddenly drawn toward the bar, Maxim’s destination.

  Don’t move, Maxim. Hold very still.

  Maxim went absolutely still, clinging with fingers and toes to the ceiling overhead. Her heart pounded so loud she feared the two men on the deck would hear.

  The member of the assault team went down to one knee suddenly, the movement drawing the attention of his partner, who dropped as well. Airiana studied the one who seemed to have noticed something off near the bar. She couldn’t let him start spraying the area with bullets, but it was an odd angle for her. Her target would have to be his neck.

  He’s still uncertain, but he’s watching, so stay still. Give me just a moment. She didn’t have a moment. The man was suspicious, and she knew he would use his weapon. Alarm was spreading through the air and forming in the waves slapping the yacht.

  Still, she took her time with her aim, feeling as though this shot was the most important one she’d ever make. She squeezed the trigger and the dart flew from her gun. It struck in his neck and he grunted, slapping at the dart as if it were an angry bee, drawing the attention of his partner.

  The partner let out a yell and began firing, sweeping the deck with bullets blindly. They hit all around her, tearing up the wall behind her. Had she not been so small, she would have been hit. Maxim fired at the man, three fast shots. One must have clipped him, because the man hit the deck hard, but he rolled to cover, rapid firing as he did so.

  Maxim dropped down to the deck to protect Airiana. A bullet sliced through the outside muscle of his arm, a quick kiss that burned like hell. More men were running up the steps. He had to get Airiana out of there fast, but if he left any of Evan’s crew alive, they would finish what their teammates had started—murdering everyone in the den, including Airiana’s father. He didn’t want to have to face her if that happened.

  He rolled away from her, drawing fire, and lifted his gun, spitting back a reply. They exchanged a flurry of bullets while he worked his way into position. Two more had found their way to the top of the stairs.

  Stay down, Airiana, he cautioned, afraid she would draw attention back to herself.

  Another bullet parted his hair just above his temple, slicing off skin and burning like a firebrand. He took his time, making his next shot count. He put the bullet squarely between the eyes of Evan’s man.

  He turned to see Airiana sliding more darts into the gun. Those are lethal doses, he reminded. And damn it, keep your head down.

  Bullets are lethal. I’m not going to just throw the dart gun at them.

 
Her voice dripped with sarcasm and he found himself smiling in spite of the ferocious burning from the bullets clipping him. He’d been lucky, but if they didn’t get off the yacht soon, they weren’t going to make it.

  He slapped a compress over the wound on his arm, sealing it and wincing when the antibiotic cream added to the burn along his raw flesh. Airiana’s face was white, her eyes large and shadowed, but her expression was determined. She hadn’t gone to pieces and froze. She stuck it out with him, fighting by his side no matter how hot the situation. He couldn’t help admiring her.

  She had a much clearer angle on the stairs than he did. The two who had come up were half lying, their heads showing just above their friend’s body. He was still alive, still breathing, in spite of the drug, but rather than pull him to safety, they used his body as a shield.

  If you’re going to do this, baby, you have to take both of them out. A one-two shot. Go over it in your mind. Practice it there first several times. You can’t make a mistake. If you don’t take out the second one, he’ll unload that automatic on us and we won’t survive.

  Don’t talk to me right now, you’re making me nervous.

  He was silent for a moment, willing her to take the shots. If he moved, he’d draw their attention. They were going to figure out fairly quickly where they were just by the position of the bodies.

  He heard the small hiss of the dart gun and saw a dart protruding from the man on the left’s throat. The second dart hit the forehead of the second man. Maxim leapt to his feet and shot him twice to make certain.

  He opened the first aid kit in the bar and dragged his war bag out of it, caught Airiana into his arms and raced for the rail. Slide around to my back. Hold on tight, but don’t choke me. There are more coming. We’ve been lucky so far, but sheer numbers are going to get us killed.

  She didn’t argue, although he felt her mind go still, almost as if she didn’t allow herself to think further than his command. Obediently she crawled around to his back and wrapped her legs around him and clutched his shoulders.