Page 1 of Safe Harbor




  Safe Harbor

  By

  Christine Feehan

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Praise for the Drake Sisters novels

  DANGEROUS TIDES

  "An excellent Drake sisters tale."

  --The Best Reviews

  "Enchanting. Smart, suspenseful, incredibly erotic."

  --Romance Reviews Today

  "A tempting blend of paranormal romance and mystery."

  --Booklist

  "Resonate[s] with passion... rich with enchantment and spiced with danger. Pure magic!"

  --Romantic Times

  OCEANS OF FIRE

  "Christine Feehan boldly goes where no writer has ever gone... Erotic, exotic, suspenseful."

  --Fallen Angel Reviews

  "Brimming with exhilarating action sequences and sultry love scenes."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "[A] magical series about the sisters with something extra... Oceans of Fire is a rousing romantic thriller and a true classic!"

  --Romantic Times

  "Fascinating and mysterious... enjoy a little bit of magic, a dash of intrigue and all the romance to be found in Oceans of Fire."

  --Romance Reviews Today

  "Captivating... This fast-paced story is another jewel."

  --The Romance Reader's Connection

  "Christine Feehan has brought paranormal romance to a new high with Oceans of Fire... Plenty of spine-tingling action... and simmering passion."

  --A Romance Review

  "The Drake series is a complex blend of fantasy and suspense."

  --Booklist

  "Combining a touch of whimsical magic with a tense thriller... tremendous romantic suspense."

  --Midwest Book Review

  Further praise for the novels of "THE REIGNING QUEEN OF PARANORMAL ROMANCE"*

  MIND GAME

  "Swift-moving and sexually-charged... electrifying."

  --*Publishers Weekly

  "[A] compelling and spectacular series. The amazingly prolific author's ability to create captivating and adrenaline-raising worlds is unsurpassed."

  --Romantic Times

  "Explosive... An exciting, thrilling read... A phenomenal plot. Ms. Feehan has really outdone herself... The sexual chemistry is literally a scorcher... Mind Game is a definite page-turner."

  --Fallen Angel Reviews

  WILD RAIN

  "A romance that feels both destined and believable. Readers whose fantasies center on untamed wilderness and on untamed heroes who are as sensitive as they are strong will be seduced by this erotic adventure."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "Ms. Feehan is unsurpassed in romantic fantasy; her imagination knows no bounds in creating unique and fresh tales that abound in steamy sensuality, fantastical imagery and lyrical prose."

  --Rendezvous

  "A powerful tale that pumps up the adrenaline of the audience any time the lead couple talk or just stare at one another in loving disbelief... A fabulous jungle love story."

  --Midwest Book Review

  "A riotous adventure, chock-full of beautiful imagery, edge-of-your-seat suspense and passionate romance... The sex is spicy enough to singe your eyebrows."

  --Romance Reviews Today

  "[A] terrific new series... Fascinating."

  --Romantic Times

  SHADOW GAME

  "Having fast made a name for herself in the vampire romance realm, Feehan now turns her attention to other supernatural powers in this swift, sensational offering... The sultry, spine-tingling kind of read that [Feehan's] fans will adore."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "One of the best current voices in the darker paranormal romance subgenre, Feehan has begun another series that, while lacking the fantasy feel of her Carpathian romances, is equally intense, sensual and mesmerizing, and might appeal especially to fans of futuristic romances. Known for her vampire tales, Feehan is a rising star in paranormal romance."

  --Library Journal

  "An exciting military science-fiction romance suspense tale that never slows down until the final confrontation. The story line is fast-paced and loaded with action."

  --Midwest Book Review

  "Sizzling sex scenes both physical and telepathic pave the road to true love... Action, suspense, and smart characters make this erotically charged romance an entertaining read."

  --Booklist

  "A very fast-paced, action-packed thriller/love story all wrapped up into one... I highly recommend this book and will be adding it to my keeper's shelf."

  --Escape to Romance

  "Feehan packs such a punch with this story it will leave one gasping for breath. She conquers yet another genre of romance with ease, proving why she is a master... Ms. Feehan wields the suspense blade with ease, keeping readers enthralled and teetering on the edge... Guaranteed not to disappoint, and will leave one begging for more. A must-read book, only cementing Ms. Feehan's position as a genre favorite for yet another round."

  --The Best Reviews

  Titles by Christine Feehan

  DEADLY GAME

  CONSPIRACY GAME

  NIGHT GAME

  MIND GAME

  SHADOW GAME

  SAFE HARBOR

  DANGEROUS TIDES

  OCEANS OF FIRE

  WILD RAIN

  DARK CELEBRATION

  DARK DEMON.

  DARK SECRET

  DARK DESTINY

  DARK MELODY

  DARK SYMPHONY

  DARK GUARDIAN

  DARK LEGEND

  DARK FIRE

  DARK CHALLENGE

  DARK MAGIC

  DARK GOLD

  DARK DESIRE

  DARK PRINCE

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglincon Avenue East, Suite 700. Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pry. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre. Panchsheel Park, New Delhi--110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0745. Auckland, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  SAFE HARBOR

  A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author


  PRINTING HISTORY

  Jove mass-market edition / July 2007

  Copyright (c) 2007 by Christine Feehan.

  Excerpt from Dark Possession copyright (c) 2007 by Christine Feehan.

  Cover illustration and stepback art by Dan O'Leary.

  Cover handlettering by Ron Zinn.

  Cover design by George Long,

  Text design by Kristin del Rosario.

  ISBN: 978-0-515-14318-8

  Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  JOVE is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The "J" design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  FOR MY READERS

  Be sure to write to Christine at [email protected] to get a FREE exclusive screen saver and join the PRIVATE e-mail list to receive an announcement when Christine's books are released.

  For Dianne Fetzer, my beloved sister,

  whom I greatly admire and respect.

  You are an amazing woman.

  You've always known what you wanted

  and gone after it courageously.

  If anyone deserves a love story, it's you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, I need to thank several people for their help with this book. Cheryl Wilson and Domini Selk for their patience and understanding. Special thanks to Cecilia Feehan for writing Joley's song to Hannah. To Anita, Kathi, Cheryl, Cecilia, Manda and Carol for their contributions, many thanks! Tina, for her unfailing support and help whenever I ask, and of course, Brian Feehan for his suggestions and talking over action scenes in the middle of the night--you all always inspire me to do better.

  "All of Time"

  Hannah's song from Joley

  Verse 1:

  When all has gone away And you're alone out there All you have to do is say I need to hear that you care I'll whisper or I'll yell Whichever one you ask I wish that I could tell The feelings behind the mask

  Chorus:

  I'm knocking at your door But it won't open for me How can I be there If you won't let me see Won't you open for me Won't you let me inside I want to be able to see All the feelings you hide

  Verse 2:

  When the world has walked out And you're alone in the dark When all you do is doubt And try to find a spark Call out my name, I'll be listening Waiting for the wind to send My name that you're whispering Baby, I'll be there in the end

  Chorus:

  I'm knocking at your door But it won't open for me How can I be there If you won't let me see Won't you open for me Won't you let me inside

  I want to be able to see All the feelings you hide

  Bridge:

  Don't be afraid

  You don't have to fear I'm by your side

  For all of time

  I'll never leave your side I'm here for all of time All of time

  Chorus:

  I'm knocking at your door But it won't open for me How can I be there If you won't let me see Won't you open for me Won't you let me inside I want to be able to see All the feelings you hide

  --Cecilia Feehan

  Chapter One

  "YOU want to tell me how the hell we got into this mess?" Jackson Deveau demanded as he whipped his arm around Jonas Harrington's waist and half dragged him toward the flimsy cover of an industrial garbage container. "We have a nice comfy job on the Mendocino coast and you decide you're bored out of your mind, which is pure bullshit by the way. You'd think getting shot once was enough for you."

  If he could have answered, Jonas would have sworn at Jackson, but he only managed a glare as he forced his feet to keep moving. The pain was relentless, stabbing white-hot like a branding iron. He could feel the breath rattling in his lungs, bile rising and reality fading in and out. He had to stay on his feet. He sure as hell wasn't going to let Jackson haul him out on his back--he'd never hear the end of it. Jackson was right. They'd made new lives, lived good, found a home. What the hell had he been thinking?

  Why wasn't it ever enough for him? Why did he have to keep going back, over and over, dragging Jackson and other men down into the muck and garbage of the world? He was no noble crusader, yet time and again he found himself with a gun in his hand, going after the bad guys. He was weary to death of his need to save the world. He didn't save anyone, he only got good men killed.

  The alley was dark, the shadow of the surrounding buildings rising above the small lane, turning the edges black. They kept the garbage container between them and the street, where it seemed everyone with a gun and a knife was hunting them. Jackson propped him up against a wall that smelled of times Jonas didn't want to remember, where blood, death and urine all mixed together into one potent brew.

  Jackson checked their ammo situation. "Can you focus enough to shoot, Jonas?"

  That was Jackson, all business. He wanted the hell out of there and was going to make it happen. The men hunting them had no way of knowing they had a tiger by the tail. When Jackson used that particular tone of voice, men died, pure and simple.

  They had to get past the entrance of the alley and it was blocked by the Russian mobsters. It had been a recon mission. Nothing more. They weren't supposed to be seen--damn it--they hadn't been seen--but it had all gone to hell fast, turning into a bloodbath.

  They'd come to film what was supposed to be a few low-level Tarasov soldiers meeting with a couple of Nikitin's soldiers on the docks in San Francisco. An undercover agent had informed Gray and he wanted to know why the two rival families would be meeting. Jonas's first twinge of alarm came when he recognized the Gadiyan brothers among the participants. There was nothing low-level about them. Brothers-in-law to Boris and Petr Tarasov, they were definitely the upper echelon in the murderous crime family, enforcers reputed to be so bloody and violent that even men in the Tarasov family avoided them. And when Boris stepped out of the shadows with his brother, Petr, his nephew, Karl, close behind to ensure his safety, Jonas knew something big was going down. Karl was reputed to be far, far worse than the Gadiyan brothers.

  Jonas and Jackson had looked at each other with their guts churning and hearts pounding because they were right in the middle of a hornet's nest with no way out. The group of Russian mobsters stood for a moment, all laughing together, and then Karl had grabbed one of the men they were conversing with and shoved him to his knees in front of his uncle. It looked to Jonas that all of the men were Tarasov soldiers. He couldn't identify the man Karl had singled out. His face was in the shadows and it all happened too fast. Petr calmly pulled out a gun and shot him in the head without a single word. The violence had been swift and ugly, with no warning at all.

  Jonas and Jackson had gotten the murder on tape and were looking for a way out when another man walked onto the dock. He obviously was aware of the camera, his face hidden, a long bulky coat covering his body. Keeping his face averted, he talked briefly with the Tarasovs and then everything went to hell fast. Karl Tarasov had reacted instantly, sprinting toward the road, finding their car and driver and executing him without preamble. Bullets were flying as the Russians spread out and began to hunt Jonas and Jackson. Jonas took two hits, neither should have been serious, but he was losing enough blood to make the wounds fatal if he didn't get help fast. Jackson had two knife streaks across his belly and chest, injuries suffered as they fought their way off the docks into the alley. The mobsters wanted the film back.

  No way were they getting it.

  Jackson slapped a full clip into Jonas's gun and shoved the gun into his hand. "You're good to go." He slammed home a full magazine and shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. "I'm going up top for a few, Jonas. You put another pressure bandage on the wound in your side, and no matter what, stay on your feet. I'm going to shake things up a bit in a few minutes and you've got to be ready to run."

  Jonas nodded. Sweat dripped off his face and beaded on
his body. Yeah. He was ready to run--and fall flat on his face--but he'd keep his feet and the gun and back Jackson in whatever crazy scheme he had. Because, in the end, he could always count on Jackson.

  Jackson melted into the night soundlessly, the way he always did. He had come home with Jonas when they'd both been sick to death of living in the shadows--when Jonas just flat out missed the hell out of his adopted family. They'd joined the sheriff's department and lived a cushy life until Jonas had gotten himself shot on the job and became restless and edgy recuperating. His old boss, Duncan Gray, from a special ops team buried deep in the defense department, had come asking. Jackson would have given him a hard look and they would have stayed safe. But no, Duncan had known to come to Jonas, because Jonas fell for the "we need you" line every damn time.

  It was a hell of a thing he'd done, pulling Jackson into this mess. And it wasn't the way he'd planned to die, a soft recon on Nikitin's rival mob to see who was coming and going and why. Nothing special, but here they were, shot to hell, and blood leaking out all over the place. Jonas opened the pressure bandage packet with his teeth and spit out the wrapper, slapping it in place before he could think too much about it.

  Fire ripped through him, stabbing so deep his body shuddered in reaction. He had to hold himself up by gripping the garbage retainer hard--and wasn't that sanitary? Damn, he was in real trouble this time. He stood swaying, the only thing steady was his gun hand.

  Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a photograph, the single one he carried, the one that mattered. He should have destroyed it. He could see his own face, the terrible raw truth caught on film. He was staring down at a woman and the love on his face, the stark hunger, was so evident it was a betrayal, there for everyone--even him--to see. His finger glided over the glossy paper, leaving a smear of blood. Hannah Drake. Supermodel. A woman with extraordinary, magical gifts. A woman so far out of reach he might as well try to pull the moon from the sky.