A small crumpled napkin hit Abigail on the side of the head. She turned to see Joley making faces at her.
"Does she need help?" Aleksandr asked. "Is she having some kind of fit?"
Abigail dipped the wadded-up napkin in her water glass and threw it back with accuracy, smacking Joley's cheek. "She's warning me. And she's about as subtle as a bullhorn."
"Warning you about what?"
"Not what. Who. Sylvia Fredrickson has arrived. The resident man-eater. Sylvia doesn't much care for me. I'd much prefer not to go into the details. Suffice it to say my magic went a little wrong and her marriage ended. Not only her marriage, but also her lover's marriage." Abigail sighed.
Aleksandr read her body language easily. He had trained all his life to read the smallest details in expression and posture. Abigail was uncomfortable with the other woman in the room. He glanced at the newcomer, a blonde with a low-cut top and the generous curves to carry it off. She looked brittle, laughed too loud, and touched every man as she worked her way through the crowd.
Aleksandr slipped his arm around Abigail. "I feel sorry for her. She's desperate. Desperation often makes people do things they're ashamed of. Her life can't be easy."
"No, I'm sure it's not. I'd hoped when she married Mason Fredrickson that she'd settle down. Mason's a good man and he really loved her and seemed to understand her need for constant attention, but she cheated on him as well. Unfortunately, along with making her own life difficult, she makes everyone else's life around her the same way."
The band swung into a faster dance rhythm and at once the dance floor was crowed with swaying people. Aleksandr watched as Carol joined the Drake sisters in a small circle where they danced together. His gaze shifted back to the Russians and he frowned as he laced his fingers through Abigail's. "I don't like the way Nikitin is watching your sister."
His chin rubbed across the back of her hand. Abigail found the small gesture sensual. Her awareness of him was so heightened she felt she could feel every breath he took. She tried to look over toward Nikitin casually, as if she were just sweeping the room. All the while she leaned into Aleksandr, wishing she were in his arms again. Wishing she could turn back the clock. If she only had confidence in her magic as a Drake, in herself as a woman, but she was more shaken than she'd known.
Nikitin was staring at the dance floor, even leaning forward in his chair. As she watched, he signaled to someone at his table without ever looking away from the dancers, put a wad of bills in the man's hand, and sat back, still watching. Abigail followed his gaze to Joley.
Her sister was a wild, uninhibited dancer. A true musician, she lost herself in the beat, eyes bright with laughter, her body moving in a sexy interpretation of the rhythm. As Abigail watched, a stranger approached her sister, inserting himself behind her, moving with her in an attempt to "freak" dance. The moment his body touched her, Joley spun around, jarred out of her enthrallment. Beside Abigail, Aleksandr tensed and half rose.
"Joley can take care of herself," Abigail assured him. "And the others are there. She won't want attention when she's having fun. Look, that's the manager." She indicated a man moving through the crowd with her chin. "Joley comes in here a lot just to relax and listen to music. He's not going to allow anyone to mess with her."
As she watched, Ilya Prakenskii came out of the shadows and caught the man accosting Joley and took him away from the floor. He did it without a sound, without fuss, so quickly no one seemed to notice. Joley stood for a moment, watching the two men disappear out the door, and then she shrugged, grinned at the manager, and went back to her dancing.
"What just happened?" Abigail asked. "I swear, two seconds ago, Prakenskii was standing against the wall behind Nikitin. How in the world did he get through the crowd like that and why didn't I notice him?" She leaned her head back to look up at Aleksandr. "You move like that. Like Prakenskii. Sometimes I don't even hear you or see you and you're across the room."
He grinned at her. "We blend. I hope the eager young man is all right. Prakenskii, depending on his mood, can be a little enthusiastic about his work." He nodded toward the wall behind Joley, and Abigail frowned when she saw the Russian had returned unnoticed.
"That's just creepy. He isn't looking at Joley at all, but I still don't like him being so close to her."
"He sees her. He sees everything."
"Great." Her fingers tightened around his. "How do you do this day in and day out? I'm a nervous wreck, worried about my family, you, what the heck they're up to. The man Nikitin gave his money to didn't go to the bar to get drinks; he's up by the band."
"It's possible Nikitin wants a certain song played and he's going to bribe the band. He's reputed to really love music and it is something he would do. Money talks with him. There is no need to worry. Prakenskii has twice acknowledged my presence and indicated they are here peacefully."
"Well, that's just great. As opposed to going into battle?" She toyed with the drink on the table. "At least Aunt Carol and the other ladies are having fun."
As the music ended, the Drake sisters returned to their table. Joley paused and went up to Prakenskii. Abigail held her breath. The man wasn't exceptionally tall, but he seemed to loom over her sister, powerful and looking enormously strong. More than anything he had an aura of danger surrounding him. Her sisters wouldn't fail to recognize it.
"I'd like to buy you a drink," Joley said as he walked with her to the table. "It wasn't necessary to rescue me, but it was very gentlemanly. Thank you."
"You should be more aware of what is going on around you," Prakenskii reprimanded her. "And drawing attention to yourself by dancing so suggestively is utterly stupid for a woman in your position."
"Oh, God." Abigail covered her face with her hands. It didn't help that all the women sitting at Aunt Carol's table overheard and nodded their heads in complete agreement.
Joley tossed her head, sending her hair flying in all directions. Sparks fairly flew from her eyes. "Really? How lovely of you to give me unsolicited and unwanted advice. Take a hike, buddy."
"He had a knife on him and he carried a drug to put in women's drinks."
Joley had turned her back on Prakenskii, but that stopped her cold. She turned back slowly. "Where is he? Did you get his name?"
"Did you know this man?"
"No, but sometimes I get letters...." She trailed off. "Where is he?"
"I suggested he leave before the police were called. His knife and the drugs were confiscated and thrown away. What letters?"
Joley waved the question away. "We should have called the sheriff and had him arrested." She tilted her chin. "Men like that don't need suggestive dancing to do what they do. They're sick perverts."
"That is true, but it does not excuse your deliberately enticing men with your suggestive dancing."
"You are a jerk."
The singer in the band stepped up to the microphone as the music faded away. "I'm certain if we all put our hands together we can persuade Joley Drake to sing for us."
The manager of the bar frantically drew a line across his throat, signaling the band member to stop, but he was ignored.
Abigail swore softly under her breath. "The Caspar Inn is one of the few refuges left to Joley where she can enjoy herself without fear of tabloid reporters or crazed fans. Singing would definitely draw unwanted attention and this place would be lost to her if word got out that she ever dropped in to sing."
"Now we know why Nikitin gave his man money. He wanted to bribe the band to ask Joley to sing." Aleksandr sat back in his chair. "What is interesting is that Nikitin knew it was the band he had to bribe, not management. He knew ahead of time that management wouldn't take the money and sell her out. How did he know that?"
The crowd had gone wild, stomping and clapping in an effort to get Joley to the stage. Abigail could see resignation on her sister's face.
"You can say no," Prakenskii said.
"How?" Joley asked, swallowing hard. She took a breath and moved past him, wavin
g and smiling to the crowd.
"Nikitin has to be using someone local for information, someone that would know a small detail like that. The person would have to know your family and the places you all like to frequent. Do you recognize anyone at all around his table, or someone standing near enough to talk to him?"
The band swung into a blues number, and Joley's voice poured into the room, rich and edgy and evocative. It carried magic and power and passion and flowed into those listening, carrying them away with her.
Abigail kept her gaze fixed on Nikitin. He was staring at Joley with rapt attention, certainly not talking to anyone at his table. When one person started to say something, he held up his hand for silence. The cocktail waitress approached and he waved her off as well.
"I think he's obsessed with her," Abigail said. "Look at him."
"No, look around him. You have to see beyond the obvious. Who do you see that seems familiar?"
"Tim Robbins, a fisherman I see often at Noyo Harbor. He's the older gentleman to Nikitin's left outside the partition. Tim practically lives on his boat. He comes here or hangs out at the Salt Bar and Grill." Abigail studied the crowd around Nikitin. "There's Ned Farmer, the really distinguished man standing just to the other side of Tim. He's an accountant, has a lot of money, and owns a lot of property. I think he has his hand in several of the smaller businesses in Fort Bragg and Sea Haven. He's been around for years and everyone likes him. He's married and has three kids. I went to school with them. All three have moved out of the area, but they visit often."
"Does he come here often?"
"Everyone comes here, Aleksandr. I've seen him here often. Usually with his wife, but sometimes alone."
"Is she here?"
Abigail looked around. "I don't see her at the moment, but the crowd seems to be growing."
"Anyone else?"
"Two others. The younger men staring at Joley."
"Everyone's staring at Joley."
"One's in a blue shirt and one's wearing green. The one in blue is Lance Parker and he does roofing. The other is Chad Kingman and he works for Frank Warner."
Joley finished the song and the place erupted into thunderous applause.
"She didn't hold anything back," Aleksandr said.
"Her small revenge on the band. They won't be sounding so good now the crowd has heard her."
Joley made her way through the crowd, back to the table, but before she could sit down, Prakenskii was there. "Mr. Nikitin would like to meet you. He asks that you join him at his table."
Joley flashed a false smile. "Thank you for the invitation, but I don't think so."
"Mr. Nikitin is not a man you say no to."
"Then tell him to go to hell," Joley said. "I don't appreciate him forcing me into the position of singing for a crowd when I've come here with my family to enjoy myself. Run along to your master and say thanks but no."
Aleksandr's fingers tightened around Abigail's wrist to prevent her from jumping up to shield her sister. Prakenskii didn't change expression, but turned away to start back toward his boss.
Joley waved her hand at his back, just a small shove of air that should have made Prakenskii stumble. Instead the air crackled and snapped, small sparks arced around her palm, and she yelped, holding it to her.
The Drakes immediately stood, their expressions shocked as they shoved Joley behind them and faced Prakenskii.
11
ALEKSANDR inserted himself between the Drake sisters and Prakenskii, despite Abigail's restraining hand. He had no idea what had just happened, but the tension had gone up significantly. Joley cradled her palm as if she'd been injured.
"Move away from Hannah," Abigail insisted, tugging at him. "Give her a clear line to Prakenskii."
The crowd seemed to swirl around them, people moving continually. Music blared from the stage and dancers gyrated, yet no one touched Prakenskii and no one went near the Drakes.
"The one thing I do know," Aleksandr answered, "is that none of you want to get in a battle with that man. Sit down. All of you. Abbey, come with me. Now's as good a time as any to pay our respects, so to speak, to Nikitin."
Prakenskii didn't turn around and face the eight women. He walked without further incident to his boss's table and bent down to whisper to him.
Abigail had a death grip on Aleksandr's arm, preventing him from following after the Russian while the Drake sisters exchanged long, puzzled looks.
"How did he do that?" Joley asked Hannah.
"Aunt Carol?" Hannah asked.
"I don't know, girls, but this isn't good. I think we should get home as quickly as possible and consult the books. I know there have been rumors about males with our gifts, but I've certainly never run across any other who had our talents." Carol tilted her head to look up at Aleksandr. "What do you know about him?"
Abigail saved him. "We'll talk about it later, when we're at home, Aunt Carol."
"Of course, dear. In the protection of the house. I must be getting old to have made such a mistake. Forgive me."
"That's silly, Aunt Carol. We were all shaken for a moment. None of us has ever had our magic turned back on us by a man before." Libby put her arm around her aunt and reached out to Joley. "Does it hurt bad?"
Hannah pushed her hand away before she could touch Joley. "Not in here. Don't give him anything of us to work against. We should leave now. Abigail, you should come with us. It might not be safe."
"He won't touch her," Aleksandr reassured them. "She'll be safe with me." He caught a movement as Hannah nudged Joley.
Joley met his eyes. "She'd better be safe with you."
Abigail flicked her hair over her shoulder. "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about Joley. Prakenskii wasn't close enough to you to get anything personal, was he?"
"I doubt it. Let's get out of here. My palm hurts like hell and I know I'm going to lose control and slap his face if he comes near me again with a request from his puppet master, the superior arrogant bastard."
"Lead the way, Sasha, I'll be very interested in meeting Mr. Nikitin." There was a whip of anger in Abigail's voice.
Aleksandr picked up his drink and made his way through the crowd to Nikitin's table, his hand firmly clasped in Abigail's. The Drake sisters, their aunt, and her friends followed, waving at friends as they made their exodus. As Joley passed the partition where Nikitin and his party were seated, Prakenskii reached out and caught her damaged hand, his thumb sliding briefly over her palm and then releasing her just as quickly. The moment he touched Joley, the air around them crackled and snapped. The hairs on Aleksandr's arm stood up.
Joley hesitated for a split second, her eyes turbulent, but Hannah and the other sisters crowded her and kept her moving when they could clearly see she wanted to retaliate.
Aleksandr ignored the byplay, not wanting to cloud issues. He had to focus on finding out as much information as possible. The Drakes were well versed in magic. It was their field of expertise, not his. "What a small world it is, Sergei. One never knows where one will encounter acquaintances." He shook the man's hand and turned toward Abbey. "This is Abigail Drake."
"Wonderful to meet you, Miss Drake." Nikitin nodded at her as if bestowing her some great honor. "Would you care to join us?"
"I wouldn't want to interrupt you," Aleksandr said. "I just wanted to say hello."
Nikitin waved two of the men out of their chairs and pulled one back for Abigail. "I insist, Aleksandr. We are far from home and it's good to see a familiar face." He shifted closer to Abigail. "Joley Drake is your sister? She has a wonderful voice. I've never heard anyone better."
"Thank you. I'm very proud of her. I'll be sure and pass on your wonderful compliment to her." Her fingers twisted harder against Aleksandr's.
"Please ask her to forgive my blunder. Prakenskii tells me she was upset that I put her in the position of having to sing. I didn't understand why a great singer was forced to endure another of lesser talent and no one asked for her. They should have been on th
eir feet paying tribute to her greatness."
"She likes to come here to relax," Abigail said with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "There are so few places left to her."
She risked a glance at Prakenskii. Aleksandr believed Sergei Nikitin was the more dangerous of the two Russians, but she knew differently. Prakenskii wore violence, deceit, and death as a second skin. He showed no emotion, acted as if the entire incident with Joley had never happened, but his gaze was restless in the same way Aleksandr's was. He was aware of every detail of the room, the crowd, even conversations, whereas Nikitin was completely self-absorbed. And Prakenskii had his own agenda, she could read that much. He wasn't as loyal to Nikitin as his boss believed, nor was he in the least bit afraid of the man.
Aleksandr's thumb rubbed across the back of her hand in warning and she sent another smile to Nikitin. "I'm certain you know what that's like."
"Yes, of course. It makes perfect sense. I was told she might come here. It was why I chose this place, but I had no idea she wouldn't be singing."
"Really? She'll be so flattered." Abigail tilted her head, resting her hand on her chin as she leaned a little in toward him. "Where did you hear she comes here? All this time we thought her secret was well guarded."
Aleksandr leaned back in his chair. Nikitin was more interested in talking to Abigail about Joley and that left him free to watch the room and Prakenskii. Nikitin had almost forgotten he was there. The man had narrowed his attention to Abigail, and it occurred to Aleksandr that Nikitin hadn't even been aware of the small exchange between Joley and Prakenskii. It didn't fit with his assessment of Nikitin. The man was reputed to be a shark, not a minnow.
Abigail was a natural at leading a conversation; her voice was pitched just right, her eyes were wide with interest. He resisted the urge to acknowledge her skills by kissing her hand; instead he turned his attention toward the two men who had vacated their seats to allow Aleksandr and Abigail a chance to visit with Nikitin.
"It isn't difficult to get information on your sister. She's a very public figure. One of my friends knew a local woman and he asked her."
Abigail's fingers dug into Aleksandr's hand, but she hung on to her smile as she glanced around the bar looking for Sylvia Fredrickson. She was in a nearby corner talking animatedly with several men including Chad Kingman, Ned Farmer, and Lance Parker. Her hand was on Chad's arm and she leaned into Lance, nearly rubbing her body against his. Occasionally she rested her palm on Ned Farmer's thigh.
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