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He needed to kill these men silently. They were from the engine room. He could smell the heavy fuel oil on them. The air carried the scent of sulfur clinging to their clothes. Evan Shackler-Gratsos didn't believe in saving the environment, just in adding more money to his coffers.

Evan had complete deniability of course. He owned the ships, he didn't run them. He'd recently inherited them from his brother. Nothing Maxim had found could tie Evan to the human trafficking ring--not yet.

Maxim continued toward the stairs and the two men coming up them.

7

MAXIM had scoped out the engine room the moment he'd come aboard, knowing he would have to stop the ship. Both men had been working there. The blond, sounding Swedish, had talked incessantly about having the captain provide a woman for them to use on their journeys. The other, who looked as if he might be from Indonesia, hadn't spoken much.

It was the Indonesian man who spotted him at the top of the stairs. The Swede was still talking and hadn't even looked where he was going. Maxim kicked the Indonesian hard in the face and as he went down, he shot the Swede. The Swede fell hard, rolling on the metal stairway, landing on the Indonesian.

Maxim followed up his advantage, shooting rapidly to prevent the Indonesian from calling out for help. He dragged both bodies down the stairs and shoved them out of sight in a small storage closet. He didn't bother wiping up the blood, but called the boy down to him, using a thread of sound.

They passed the engine room and went straight for the cargo area. It was huge, with containers everywhere. Benito took the lead, hurrying up to one of the containers and thumping on it, anxiety on his face. A heavy lock on the door prevented them from opening it. Maxim smashed the lock and pulled back the heavy door.

Heat blasted him and with it an appalling stench. It didn't stop Benito from rushing inside and flinging himself into the arms of a girl no more than fourteen. She hugged him hard and reached down for the younger child, a little girl of about six or seven. She pushed the child behind her.

"It's okay, Lucia," Benito assured. "He killed them all. I saw him do it. And Nicia is safe. She's still alive."

Lucia stared at him with too-old eyes. She was the oldest of the children and she'd taken the role of the adult. The family resemblance was strong between them--they had the same features.

Maxim beckoned them out of the box. "Bring whatever is important to you. I'm going to stash you in a much nicer and safer place."

"We don't have anything important," Lucia said. "They made it very clear to us that we wouldn't ever leave the ship." There was disbelief in her voice.

Maxim couldn't blame her, but time was slipping away. "If you're coming with me, we have to go now. I need my hands free, so if the little one can't keep up, you'll have to carry her. And you need to be absolutely quiet. Do you understand?"

He used his most commanding, intimidating voice.

The children nodded. Benito took the hand of the youngest child. "This is Siena. She's six. We were all taken together. They're my sisters."

The child had Benito's huge dark eyes, as did Lucia. Siena's hair was long and thick and hung in curls and waves. Maxim could see why the three children had been targeted. All of them were beautiful and would catch the eye of predators like Saeed and Galati. He knew that the children and women chosen for the high-end "special" clients had to be disposable, which meant no one would come looking for them.

They were often runaways or had no other family once their parents met an untimely death. A long-lost uncle might come forward and claim them. It was easy enough, with the amount of money exchanging hands, to forge the necessary papers. Once the child or children were in the "uncle's" possession, no one would ever look again. Scoring five children at once would be cheap and easy and a huge boon for the seller.

Lucia hung back. "The man who came to get us after our parents were killed in an accident said he was our uncle. His name was Ricco. He brought us here."

"Ricco's dead," Maxim said grimly. "He wasn't your uncle. It's a ploy often used by human trafficking rings."

Siena began to cry at the mention of her parents.

"Are you afraid, Siena?" Maxim asked, crouching down so he was level with her and would be less intimidating.

Siena nodded, tears tracking down her cheeks and curls bobbing around her face. She clung tighter to Lucia's leg.

"I'll get you out of here, but you have to be very quiet for me. When I tell you to, I want you to close your eyes and let Lucia carry you. Can you do that for me?"

The little girl gave a sniff, looked from her older brother to her sister and then gave a nod.

He felt like the pied piper. He was a loner and always worked solo. More than three people were a crowd to him. He didn't deal with children--he didn't know how. He was too gruff and far too rough, yet all three were beginning to look at him as if he were a hero, their savior. He was uncomfortable in that role. He didn't want any of them admiring him--especially Benito.

"Let's move. Stay right behind me, single file. Lucia, when I tell you, pick Siena up and carry her, but only until we're past whatever obstacle we find."

"He means the dead bodies," Benito said.

Maxim pinned him with a steely eye. "Your little sister doesn't need to be any more traumatized than she already is. Right?"

Benito ducked his head, but he didn't look remorseful. Maxim couldn't blame him. The kid was purple from head to toe and had a few open wounds. His clothes might cover up what had been done to him, but nothing was going to ever take it away.

Maxim couldn't do more than see to it that they were safe. It was going to cost him this time. The body count would be high. If he left a single person aboard alive, the first thing they would do would be to hunt down the children, kill them and throw their bodies overboard to remove all evidence. He would have to leave a ghost ship behind.

He signaled to Lucia to pick up Siena when they approached the stairs where the bodies of the two men who worked in the engine room were. "Keep your eyes closed very tight, Siena," he instructed.

He tried not to notice Benito kicking the body of the one of the men as they stepped around them. Lucia hissed a reprimand at her brother, but the boy shrugged, unrepentant. Maxim remembered that feeling of rage. Of helplessness. Of knowing a bigger, stronger and much more ruthless man could do anything and get away with it. He'd been beaten and caned. He still carried the scars from whips and even a chain.

He took them up the stairs past the floor where Galati had held Benito, wanting to avoid that particular place. Lucia would know what happened there. She might guess, but seeing the bodies of Galati and his bodyguards would only make Benito's shame and embarrassment deepen.

He stopped the little parade at the top of the stairs. This was the floor where he'd left Airiana and Nicia. He pushed air down the passageway and circulated it back to him, needing information. Pressing his thumb into the center of his palm, he reached for Airiana.

Are you okay? Has anyone disturbed you?

He felt Airiana's shock. He should have warned her they would have a telepathic connection, but he had other things to worry about. Now he had the children. He still wasn't certain what he was going to do with them all.

It's been quiet. Nicia is very worried about her sisters and brother.

Maxim wanted to curse. Ricco had killed their parents to acquire the children for the sex trade. He must have received a fortune from Evan Shackler-Gratsos, who had to be the head of the organization. He was a billionaire and little ever touched him.

I'm bringing them in. Don't shoot us.

He almost wished she would. What in the hell was he doing with these kids? He sighed again and signaled them to follow him. They made it down the passageway without incident, and he opened the hatch, blocking the entrance, just in case. He was like that. Always wary, ready for anything.

Well--almost anything. Airiana was an exception. Her sky blue eyes jumped to his. He'd never had anyone look at him like that--

welcoming. Happy. She jumped up and flung her arms around him. His hand of its own volition came up to cup the back of her head beneath the scarf as she pressed her face against his chest. The silk of her hair slid over that sensitive spot in the middle of his palm, teasing his senses.

"I'm glad you're safe," she whispered.

He could hear the truth in her voice. He was bound to air, and one of the many gifts was the ability to read sound. She was truly happy he was safe--not for herself but for him. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on top of the silly scarf made from his own shirt, feeling a little foolish under Benito's smirk.

He gave the kid a glare and waved them all inside before closing the hatch. "Airiana, this is Lucia, Siena and Benito. Kids, this is Airiana."

The children nodded at her shyly. She gave them a smile of reassurance.

Ricco killed their parents and posed as their uncle, their only living relative, to acquire them. He sent Airiana the information privately.

You mean they really have no other family? She had no trouble using their telepathic connection to communicate. It was simply another form of sound and air.

No, they would have been thoroughly investigated before they took them. It was easy enough to orphan them and then step forward to claim them. Who would question papers that appeared to be legitimate?

Bastards. Airiana poured loathing into the word.

Maxim turned to the children. "This is your new home until the rescue boat comes. I don't want any of you to leave this room for any reason. You have a bathroom and water. There's a small cooler with food. You'll be safe here."


Tags: Christine Feehan Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart Romance