"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 thunder-clouds 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.
Sam came up to him, pushing his way through the crowd of people. "What's going on, Ty? The scanner went off, but I didn't get all the particulars."
"Someone shot Jonas," Tyson answered in a low tone, "and I don't know why they aren't getting him to a hospital."
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"It just adds to our growing legend of the infamous Drake sisters," Sam said. "Regardless they get the glory. If he lives, they saved him, if he dies, well, they tried."
Ty glanced at him sharply. "I thought you believed in them."
"Come on, Ty! Magic? You really think Libby can heal a man shot full of holes? If she could, she'd be a national treasure. Drew Madison would have been healed of cancer when he was a kid."
"Keep your voice down, Sam, this crowd could turn ugly," Ty cautioned.
"You know it's wrong, they're just looking for more attention. Sea Haven loves the idea of the magical Drake sisters, but this is real life and they're going to kill Jonas."
Tyson frowned warningly at his cousin as he tried to push past a deputy, but the officer wouldn't budge.
Sam shoved at Tyson, forcing him almost nose to nose with the man as tempers around them rose. "What the hell are you thinking, Jackson?" Sam demanded. "That's Jonas there. Do you think he'd allow you to die for a theatrical performance? Get the hell out of the way and let the paramedics see to him. Have you all gone crazy? Matt? Mason?"
Tyson put his hand on Sam's shoulder to calm him. "Getting upset isn't going to help anything. You have to allow the paramedics to transport Jonas." He turned toward the deputy, his voice very quiet. "Jonas could die without proper medical attention. He needs it now."
"Not could die," Sam snarled, his voice carrying in the night air, "will die. Whatever these con artists are doing, it isn't worth Jonas's life."
Several others from the surrounding towns added their own loud dissent to Sam's and the paramedics tried to push their way through the line.
Libby heard the sounds as if from a great distance, but she continued to concentrate her attention on holding Jonas to her. Power and strength flowed through her sisters into her. The air snapped with electricity so that their hair rose like haloes around their heads and stood up along their arms. Jonas had so many wounds, and the artery required all of Libby's attention.
Libby kept Jonas's heart beating, kept oxygen flowing to his brain. Time passed and she pushed panic aside, working her way through the massive destruction in his chest. Once she heard Hannah sob and felt Elle's internal weeping, but they never faltered and neither did she. Jonas would not die this night. The Drakes would never allow it. Sarah, Kate, Abigail and Joley sent every ounce of strength and energy they possessed to their sisters, giving freely to save Jonas, holding nothing in reserve, even knowing Libby would soon need their help as desperately as Jonas did now.
At a signal from Libby, Jackson waved the team of paramedics through the protective line. They rushed with their equipment to Jonas's side. As the officers parted, Tyson caught a glimpse of Libby covered in blood, her face stark white, eyes closed. Pain etched her face and sudden anger swept through him at the sight of it. He wanted to pound Jackson into the ground, even went so far as to take two aggressive steps toward him.
"Don't mess with me tonight." Jackson warned him.
"You're killing both of them trying to keep up this stupid myth of the Drake sisters and their magic. If she could wave her arms around and say an incantation or two, don't you think Jonas would already be up and walking around?" He couldn't stand the sight of Libby's white face, so pale she looked translucent--not of this world--a witch. "You people are sucking the life out of her, perpetuating this myth."
Jackson didn't reply, merely stared at him with flat, cold eyes. Obviously nothing was going to sway him, any more than it would sway the fanatics who believed the Drake sisters were real modern-day witches. Still, Tyson had to try. Keeping his voice low so no one could hear, he pleaded with the man. "Think, Jackson. This isn't logical. This is the kind of thing that brings the crazies after Libby. They believe all the hocus-pocus because they need to believe in it." He threw his arms into the air when Jackson didn't change his expression. "You're going to get her killed," Tyson hissed between his teeth.
"This is a crime scene," one of the other sheriffs said. "Move back."
"This is murder," Sam shouted and the crowd behind him buzzed louder. "You damn well had better not let Jonas die. Give him proper medical attention."
Tyson gripped Sam's shoulder hard to restrain him. Crowds grew ugly fast. Jonas Harrington was a popular man up and down the coast and only the people of Sea Haven believed in the Drake family magic. He didn't want things to get out of hand. He signaled Sam to stop stirring things up, feeling guilty since Sam was merely backing him up. As a firefighter, Sam wielded a lot of influence. He was well-known, popular and very persuasive. He most likely wouldn't have entered into the debate if he hadn't had Tyson's back.
Sam shook his head. "This isn't right," he said in a low tone. "The Drakes are going to kill him. They'll claim he was dying anyway, with four bullets in him, but the longer the delay the less his chances. Why the hell won't they allow the medics in?"
"They did let paramedics through," Tyson reminded him. "They're working on Jonas now. He doesn't look good and he hasn't moved."
The crowd pushed closer.
Movement caught Tyson's eye and he saw Libby topple over. She lay as if dead on the ground, blood covering her clothes, staining her skin, her face as white as a sheet. His heart nearly stopped, then began to pound hard.
Hannah swayed, was caught by Matt Granite. He lifted the supermodel and placed her in a squad car. Jackson carried Elle and then Sarah as Matt helped Abigail, Joley and Kate get to the cars. The paramedics worked fast to bundle Jonas onto the gurney to transport him to the nearest hospital. Tyson pushed his way through the crowd toward Libby. A burly officer bumped chests with him.
"You can't go past this point. This is a crime scene."
"Like hell. Libby is my . . ." What the hell did one say to get past the law? "She's my . . ." Words failed him again. "We're dating."
"We have people looking after her. As soon as they move her, you'll be able to see her." The officer did not appear to be in the least impressed with Ty's declaration.
"Like hell I'm waiting," Tyson snapped. "Half the people running around your precious crime scene are not law enforcement personnel, so don't give me excuses." Behind him, the crowd pushed closer and Sam bumped Tyson hard, driving him into the officer's chest.
Immediately the officer shoved Ty away from him, sending Tyson staggering backward into Sam, who stumbled and fell into the angry mob. Chaos exploded. People began swinging wildly at the deputy and each other. Tyson helped his cousin up, ducked a flying fist and then took a hit far too close to his broken rib so that he was forced to protect that side of him, the pain taking his breath as he hunched over.
"I'm going to arrest every one of you." Jackson had come over and was speaking in a low, menacing tone that sobered the crowd instantly. "Go home and let us do our job. You're blocking the way of the ambulance."
Officers formed a barrier, shielding Jonas from the sight of the crowd as he was placed inside the vehicle. The deputies, joined by several highway patrol officers, drove the mob back to allow the ambulance to get onto the road.
Ty found himself staggering over to the edge of the road, holding his side and craning his neck in an attempt to spot Libby. She had several people surrounding her, mostly the men associated with the Drakes.
"You okay?" Sam asked, anxiety plain in his voice.
"No, I'm not okay," Tyson bit out between his teeth. "I don't know if she's dead or alive. She isn't moving."
Sam glanced at Libby's body, partially blocked by two burly men. "What really happened here, Ty? I heard 'officer down' and came running. What the hell happened to him? Who would do this?"
"I told you. Someone shot him. It looked like multiple wounds. No one knows why, or if they do, they aren't saying." Tyson pushed a hand through his hair. To his astonishment he was trembling. "I don't get this, Sam. I know she can't heal people. It isn't possible, we know that. Libby's smart. Damned smart, but she really believes she can heal people like some faith healer in a tent. I didn't realize how seriou
sly she believes it until just now. She'd never have risked Jonas this way otherwise."
Sam shrugged. "The Drakes have always been different. Everyone in Sea Haven knows that. Maybe the answer is just as simple as they crave attention any way they can get it. God knows, they don't live low-profile lives."
Tyson's gut knotted. He had had this same conversation with his cousin before, back when he'd first mentioned he was interested in Libby. Sam had protested with surprisingly well-thought-out reasons why it would never work. Tyson had quoted part of the conversation to Libby at dinner, wanting to guide her gently toward thinking with logic. Libby didn't strike him as a woman who craved attention. In fact he'd never seen her intentionally draw attention to herself. He shook his head. "The motivation doesn't fit her, Sam. She's brilliant and skilled and maybe that makes her vulnerable to believing she can heal others."
"Whatever, Ty. If we don't get out of here pretty soon, we're going to get arrested. That cop is staring at you and he doesn't look happy."
"Go, Sam. This isn't your mess. I want to make certain Libby's okay. If I get arrested, sooner or later BioLab will bail me out."
"I'm sure they will. You're their big star," Sam said.
"I'm trying not to notice that there was sarcasm in your tone," Tyson said. He regarded his cousin through narrowed eyes, his attention on the cops, waiting for them to lose interest in him. "I'm sorry about the phone calls at all hours of the night. It's just that I've been concerned about that project . . ."
"It's not your project, Ty. You've got all of BioLab in an uproar. They're calling the house and sending couriers and showing up on my doorstep when I'm trying to entertain a beautiful woman. I was this close"--Sam measured the distance off with his fingers--"to getting her to stay with me. I've been after her for months."
Tyson's attention shifted back to the sheriff deputies. They'd lost interest in him now that the crowd had dispersed and he seemed to be obeying orders.
"I'm sorry," Ty mumbled. It was a habit from childhood and easily done and never all that genuine. He was always cramping Sam's style when he was home, although he spent so much time in his basement laboratory that Sam often referred to Tyson as "the mole." Sam was never serious about any one woman and if he messed up his chances to sleep with one woman, he simply moved on to the next. He was charming and easygoing and not overly ambitious. He loved being a firefighter for the forestry but didn't particularly want the responsibility of moving up the ladder whereas Tyson was driven to always move forward.