Aleksandr shook his head. "I can't imagine Prakenskii doing any of this."
Carol flashed him a quelling look. "If you are going to be disparaging about our practices, young man, now is the time to leave."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that Prakenskii is one of those men who is very action oriented. I can't see him trying to manipulate energy in crystals and stones." He indicated the stone in Libby's hand. "I've never seen anything like that before--what is it?"
Libby held it up. It looked almost like an orange-gold opal, with fiery flashes of many colors when held up to the light. "It's a very rare type of feldspar stone from India, called sunstone."
While Abigail's sisters and her aunt prepared for their protective cleansing, Aleksandr swept back Abbey's hair and pressed a kiss against the nape of her neck. "What were you thinking? Why would you be so upset at that party?"
"I realized things about you. About me. Do we really want to discuss this now?"
"I don't want you hurting like this. Give me something to work with, Abbey. Don't just shut me out." His lips moved up her neck to her ear. "If you feel things, you must feel how much I love you. If you can hear truth in voices, you have to hear it in mine." He kissed her neck, his teeth teasing her skin seductively. "You have to believe in me just a little."
Was she just being stubborn, holding on to her hurt and anger, believing he betrayed her? Was she so terrified of living with his ruthless streak, knowing what he was capable of doing, that she would rather lose everything? Was she such a coward that she couldn't let go of the past? "What would you do to solve a crime, Aleksandr? Would you sleep with another woman to get information? Would you go that far?" Her throat felt constricted and raw with pain when she asked. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she feared it might burst through the walls. She couldn't ask him if he'd killed someone to set her free. The words pounded in her head, but she couldn't force them past the constriction in her throat.
Aleksandr stiffened, his arms slowly releasing her. She could see by his face she didn't have to ask the real question. He knew. He knew what she feared the most. "Can you really think so badly of me? I spent close to three years tracking that child killer. For the first year, I did it alone--my superiors refused to even admit the possibility that there could be a serial child killer in Mother Russia. Twice they relieved me of duty for seeking help from agencies outside of our country. And all the while he was out there, luring children to him."
"Aleksandr," she protested.
"No, Abbey. Let's get this out in the open. I fully admit I made mistakes. I told the clerk to send you into the interrogation room. I thought he'd follow orders. I had no idea Ignatev was working behind the scenes to bring me down and that he had his men in place. When everything went to hell, I weighed my options. In my mind I thought you'd be perfectly safe, my men would hand you a drink, walk you out, and it would be over."
She rubbed her chin on her drawn-up knees, hugging herself as she rocked back and forth. "But it didn't work out that way."
"No. Ignatev took the opportunity to strike at me. His men, not mine, were in the interrogation room with you. You weren't safe, although I didn't know that at first. I was scrambling to do damage control. I was so close to solving the case and didn't want to get yanked. When I found out what happened, and that Ignatev's men had you in their control, I had to move fast to get you out. At that point I couldn't come forward about what had happened because if I had taken the blame for everything, not only would I have been off the case, but I wouldn't have been able to get you free."
Abigail looked at him. "What did you do?"
"Whatever was necessary to get you out of there. They would have killed you. Ignatev wanted to strike at me, you weren't cooperating, and he wanted the violence against you stepped up. It was only my reputation that kept it from happening in the beginning. And yes, Abbey, if I had to sleep with another woman to save your life, I damn well would have done it. I would have done anything to save you. Is that what you wanted to know about me?"
His eyes blazed fire at her. Aleksandr, always so calm and in control, looked as if he wanted to shake her. She studied his face, the lines that hadn't been there four years earlier, the edge to his mouth and his strong jaw. What was it she was really so afraid of? Would she have wanted him to abandon the dead children? Would she have wanted him to abandon her? He had probably saved her life, just as he had saved other children from a madman.
The realization was slow in coming, but Abigail knew she loved him for those very qualities, his single-minded determination to bring a killer to justice, his protective instincts that made him aggressive in his search for a serial killer. So many good traits, so what was it she feared so much?
"How did you get me out of Russia?"
His gaze hardened. "I did what I had to do. That's my life, Abbey. That's who I am. You're the only person I've ever loved. Do you think I'd do less for you than I would for those poor children? Damn you for asking me that." He leaned close to her, his face inches from her. "I have a lot of things to apologize for, I know that, but getting you out of Russia, saving your life, is not one of them. If I had to sleep with forty women, kill forty men, or trade my life for yours, I would have done it and I'm not about to ask for forgiveness for it. If you want to pass judgment on me, go ahead."
"Where is there a future for us, Sasha? I can't be in Russia. I don't know if I can live with the extremes you're willing to go to. What are we doing?"
"There has to be a future for us. We have to find a way. Are you happy without me? Can you truthfully say you've been happy hiding in the sea with your dolphins, living your life without me, Abigail?"
Abigail sat up and brushed back her hair. "Grab your tea before it spills."
She pointed vaguely at a spot ahead of him and when Aleksandr turned his head the mug of tea nearly hit him in the face. It seemed to be floating in the air. Her sisters and aunt had disappeared, leaving them sitting in the middle of a circle made of a type of wood he couldn't identify and what seemed like hundreds of lit candles. He took the mug of tea right out of the air and watched Abigail do the same.
When they had been together in Russia, Abigail had always kept the use of magic in their lives to a minimum. He hadn't thought much beyond her gift of getting others to speak the truth. Her abilities and those of her sisters were obviously far more than he had ever conceived. The wielding of magic seemed effortless, an everyday occurrence in the Drake sisters' lives. It would always be a part of Abigail.
"I'm not willing to live my life without you, Abbey. I've tried it. I tried burying myself in work. I took every dangerous case, every interesting case, anything I could think of, but nothing worked. I want you back. Tell me what I need to do to get you back."
"It isn't that I don't love you, Aleksandr. I loved you with everything in me. I admire your strength of resolve and respect your determination that is so much a part of you. I know it's what makes you successful at the things you do. But at the same time, I don't think I can live with them."
"That's a cliche, a ridiculous thing to say when you aren't willing to talk something out, and I'm not about to accept it from you. I do what I have to do to survive and to keep others alive. I'm not some maniac running around with a gun shooting people for no good reason. Hell yes, I took out Ignatev's men. Every one of them I could get my hands on. I would have killed him if I could have gotten to him, but he had already melted into the shadows. That's why I have a price on my head. He was going to have you killed, but first he wanted to torture you. It wasn't going to happen. Can you understand that much about me? It wasn't going to happen. Not to you."
"I just feel I'm in way over my head." Loving him. Afraid of losing him. Fearing his very strength. She was so mixed up. How had she gotten so pathetically fragile when it came to loving him?
"You're not a coward, Abbey. You wouldn't swim in the sea with dolphins if you were. You wouldn't have pulled that fisherman out of the water,
or even attacked the shooter when you had the opportunity. You can do all those things, yet you're afraid to let yourself be with me. If I leave, will you love me less? Will it take away the pain of what you consider a betrayal?" He put his tea on the floor and caught her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I'm condemned either way. I'm condemned for not protecting you when I didn't know you were in trouble, and I'm condemned for getting you out of a very dangerous situation. Which is my real sin?"
"Making me love you." The truth spilled out of her. She pulled away from him. "I don't want to love you."
"Well, welcome to the club, sweetheart. I didn't want to love you either. My life was a hell of a lot easier before you came into it."
She sighed softly. "I've never had to live the way you've had to live. You can be ruthless if the circumstances call for it. How do we live together when our lives are so different? When we come from two such different cultures and backgrounds?"
"Do you even understand the choices I made? Would you have done it differently?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know. You nearly destroyed me. When I thought you'd betrayed me it felt as if you'd torn out my heart and the wound just wouldn't heal. I hate saying that. It's so melodramatic, but it's the truth. Do I want you to have that kind of power over me again? Someday you'll be working on something terrible, some hideous crime, and you'll have to make decisions I'm not certain I can face. What do I do then?" Tears shimmered in her eyes. Her throat was raw. "You can't be anything but who you are. I wouldn't love you the same if you stopped being you. How do I change enough to accept that ruthless streak in you?"
"I don't know, Abigail. You have to decide if you love me enough. You think that I have all this power over you, but in reality it's the other way around. You walked away from me and you didn't look back. You can call it self-preservation if you want to, but in the end, you didn't love me enough to live with what I have to do. And yes, it isn't always pretty and wrapped up in a neat bow. In order for me to track the kind of criminals I normally track, I have to get down in the filth and slime with them. There are evil people in this world, truly evil, Abbey. I chase them. And I do my best to bring them to justice. It isn't always possible to use acceptable civilized rules in order to stop them. When you go after evil or sick people who have no rules, you have to do whatever it takes. There are times I have to do things I'm not proud of. And there are times I have to take a life. And if it is for you, Abigail, there will never, at any time, be a question of whether I'm willing or not to do anything it takes. That's who I really am. The real question is, can you love the real me? Not the perfect person you want me to be, not that image you had of me, but who I really am."
15
ABIGAIL sighed softly. "I'm struggling to understand all of this, Sasha. I had no idea what happened in Russia, why you let them haul me away from you, and maybe I should have opened all those letters from you...."
"You cut out my heart when you sent them back," Aleksandr said.
"So we both ended up hurt. Do you really want to go there again?"
"Have you wondered why I haven't asked you to 'talk' to Nikitin or even Chad Kingman or Frank Warner? We'd know immediately who was doing what if you had a conversation with them."
Abigail spread her hands out in front of her. "I made a horrible mistake and it cost a man his life."
"That's bullshit and you know it, Abbey. That man died because he was overwhelmed with grief and one of the officers all but handed him a gun. It had nothing to do with you. I watched the tape over and over before it was destroyed and you were trying to tell us he wasn't guilty. There was nothing wrong with your magic or the way you used it. I haven't asked you to help me because I was wrong to use you. In the beginning I wanted every tool possible. I heard a rumor about a woman psychic and did a little research and decided to meet you to see if you could help, even if what you could do sounded as wacky as hell."
She ducked her head, unable to answer him. She had nightmares of that poor man, so distraught over the death of his daughter. She should have known, sensed what was going on, put aside herself and her ego to divine the truth. Aleksandr absolved her of guilt, but she had been raised to believe that with her gift came ultimate responsibility.
"I don't want to use someone I love as a tool or a weapon or for any other reason. I love you, Abbey." He put his hand over his heart. "I don't know how else to get you to believe me other than saying it a thousand times."
She could only look at him, a mixture of pain and love swirling in the depths of her eyes. She wanted him. Wanted to reach out and start all over again, but the past was there, a raw ugly wound that terrified her.
Aleksandr sought for a way to comfort her, to reach beyond the past and wipe that look of fear from her eyes forever. When he couldn't think of anything to say, he changed tactics, seeking a distraction. The thick staffs of wood making up the circle were unlike anything he'd seen before. He touched one. "What is this?"
Abigail pushed his hand away. "Don't touch that. You're always touching things. The wood is very, very old and came from Italy. It's been in our family for centuries and it possesses great power. What if you'd gotten zapped? You should have gotten zapped when you entered the circle without permission."
He ran his finger over the polished wood one more time. "But I didn't. Your house seems to like me."
Carol trailed after the Drake sisters as they came back into the room. Abigail could tell they'd heard every word of the conversation and, worse, her emotions were so strong, so out of control, that they could feel the deep soul-searing love that she felt for him. She could tell by their faces they were sympathetic toward his cause. And he could see it as well.
Aleksandr appealed to them. "If you all know magic, don't any of you know a good love potion? If you'd just slip it into her drink, we'd work this out."
"What makes you think we haven't, dear?" Carol asked, winking at him. "She hasn't finished the entire cup of tea yet."
"These things take time," Joley added.
Abigail looked up, alarmed. She carefully set the cup of tea in the middle of the floor. "You wouldn't dare. Aleksandr, don't drink that."
"If it helps, I'm drinking it." He drained the tea mug and held it out to Joley. "More, please. It was very good."
Joley laughed. "She's the one who needs to drink the tea, not you. I think you're just fine the way you are."
"Don't encourage him," Abigail said.
"Someone has to encourage me." Aleksandr set the mug on the floor and regarded her with a faint smile. "You certainly don't."
"It isn't like she goes around sleeping with lots of men," Hannah pointed out. She set out a small table and placed a mortar and pestle on it just outside the circle. "I'd say you should be very encouraged."
"We are not discussing whether or not I sleep with men on a regular basis," Abigail objected.
"Well, dear, it isn't like there's much to talk about," Carol said. "By the way, I dropped the film at that one-hour shop in Fort Bragg and Jonas is bringing it by this evening so he'll probably be here any minute."
"Great. We can talk about my sex life in front of him too," Abigail said. "Hurry up, Libby. I can't sit here forever."
Kate handed several herbs to Libby. "She's getting very irritable. Must be all that talk of sex and she's stuck here with all of us around and can't do anything about it."
"Are you saying she's frustrated?" Aleksandr asked. "And we're not supposed to leave this circle?"
"No, not until Libby does her thing," Kate advised.
A huge grin spread across Aleksandr's face. "I think the tea is working, baushki-bau. Come here, my little dumpling."
She fended him off with one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I can't help myself. Your aunt put something in the tea and I can't keep my hands off of you."
"There was nothing in the tea and it doesn't work that way anyway," Abigail protested, trying not to laugh as he gathered her into his arms.
"It works that way on me," he said, pulling her close to him. He bent his head until his lips were a mere breath away from hers. "I need you to kiss me."
"I can't kiss you in front of everyone."
Joley snickered. "Sure you can. We won't watch."
Libby chose several herbs and began to prepare them for the cleansing and protection ceremony. "I'm watching. Break it up, you two."
Abigail grinned at her. "Finally, someone on my side."
"I didn't say I'm on your side. I'm just not going to watch you get all lovey-dovey and then blow it because that Prakenskii put some kind of whammy on the two of you."
"Do you think he really did? Real hexes are very rare."
Libby ground the herbs together in the small bowl made of polished agate. "He did something. Look at the difference in you already, Abbey. You were in such emotional pain, ready to throw Aleksandr away, and yet now, inside this house, inside the circle, you're laughing with him again. You're much calmer and you're not hurting the way you were before."
Joley gave a little sniff. "I told you Prakenskii was a rat bastard."
"You think all men are rat bastards. I believe you even called Aleksandr a rat bastard."
Aleksandr gasped. "Joley!"
She waved her hand. "She dragged me out of bed before noon. Everyone is a rat bastard before noon."
"What would be the point of Prakenskii enhancing my feelings?" Abigail asked.
Aleksandr reached for her hand. "To keep us apart?"
She drew her hand away. "We are apart."
"Now, Abbey"--Aleksandr's voice was a teasing caress--"I thought we settled this when you went to bed with me."
"We did not." Abigail glanced up to see her sisters and her aunt pausing in their preparations to listen. "Don't you all have something to do?"
"Well, he does have a point, Abbey," Joley said.
"What point would that be?" Abigail demanded.