"Stop whining." The voice cut like a knife. Hard. Merciless. An authority.
Airiana closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, concentrating on slowing her breathing, not wanting to take any chances that she could be heard. It helped to slow the wild beating of her heart and hopefully that would keep Lexi from a full-blown panic attack.
Her younger sister rarely left the farm unless it was for business, and then she never went alone. She still suffered panic attacks, and their counselor had said it was possible she always would, but that Lexi would find the tools to better handle them. Hiding in the bushes with men hunting them was not going to help.
Footsteps drew closer. Lexi pushed her palm into the ground. She was bound to earth, and Airiana had noticed that often, when Lexi was agitated, she would press her palms into the soil and that simple action seemed to soothe her, just as she spun in a circle with her arms wide and embraced the open air.
Lexi's teeth began to chatter. Airiana couldn't blame her. The footsteps were getting closer. She could hear the one who had been swearing. She couldn't hear the second man, and it was that man who scared her the most. She felt his power in the air around her, in the dense fog surrounding them.
She lifted Lexi's face, framing it with both hands, love welling up. "Listen to me, little sister. I believe these men only want me." She whispered the words, let the scant inch of air separating their faces carry the thread of sound to her sister. "I want you to stay right here. Don't move. Stay here until Lissa comes for you. Don't even come out for Damon. Just Lissa. She'll find you. Do you understand me?"
Lexi frowned and pressed her forehead against Airiana's, shaking her head slightly as if she knew what Airiana was going to say.
"I'm going to lead them away from you. I'll make a run for Judith's house. Thomas has all kinds of weapons there. I've gotten pretty good with a gun."
Lexi shook her head adamantly and clutched at Airiana's arm.
"I can't let them take you, Lexi. I can't. I wouldn't survive it. And they could use you against me. This is for me too. If they get me, Judith can unite all of your gifts and you'll find me. But if they have you too, I'll do whatever they ask me to do and they'll kill us both faster."
Her project. That horrible, wonderful project she'd begun all those years ago. Someone knew about it and they wanted it. There was no other explanation. Her mother had died over that project. Damon's assistant had most likely been killed over it and Damon's legs had been crushed. How many more people had been affected? She had no idea, but Lexi wasn't going to be one of them.
"Do you understand? I'm not abandoning you. I can't let them take you," she repeated fiercely. They'd talked too much. Even though she'd been careful, whoever had the power to manipulate air the way this man did would probably feel that slight disturbance eventually.
Airiana leaned forward and kissed Lexi's cheek, squeezed her hand and put her mouth up against her ear. "I love you. I love all of you."
She leapt up and ran for the path leading to Judith's house. Twigs snapped, vines slapped at her legs and leaves crunched beneath her feet. She ran as if her life depended upon it, and it probably did.
Behind her, she heard running footsteps slamming into the ground. He was following her, the one who had done the swearing, Lexi was safe if the other followed as well.
She hit something hard, so hard she thought she ran into a tree. There was no give in the trunk and her breath left her lungs in a long, painful gasp. Arms closed around her--strong arms--the kind that didn't feel when she punched and kicked and struggled, trying to execute just one of the self-defense moves she had learned. He simply lifted her off the ground, slung her over his shoulder without a word and strode through the already thinning fog.
3
AIRIANA would not go with him. Screaming would only draw Lexi out of her hiding spot, so there was little point in indulging her fear. There was no one to hear her but these men--and Lexi--everyone else was away. She would not bring her younger sister into danger she was certain was hers.
She made up her mind she wasn't going with this man. Wherever he was taking her was definitely a place she didn't want to go. She forced her mind to calm. To think. Her brain was her best defense, at least both Levi and Thomas insisted it was. To make her assailant continue to think she was panicked she kept struggling, but her mind was already laying out the farm in grids for her.
She began to weave the fog, binding it into long ropes as she pounded on his back with her fists. She timed his steps and threw a loop over his back foot as he raised it. He stumbled, nearly dropping her, forced to catch himself. Quickly she looped the fog around his neck and head, dropping it over him like a hood. She kicked hard, driving backward, using her legs and arms for momentum as well as his forward fall to throw herself off.
She hit the ground hard and rolled away from him, scrambling on all fours in an effort to make it into the brush. He threw out his hand blindly, but unerringly, probably feeling, as she could now, exactly the position of everyone around him in the fog.
He shackled her ankle with his hand--a big hand. He was a big man and incredibly strong. Once his fingers circled her ankle, she felt not only his strength, but his will surrounding her flesh and bones. She also felt his shock at her fight--and his amusement. Well, he wouldn't be amused for long. She turned over as he dragged her back to him, and kicked his knee hard, once again using his own force against him, driving hard with her combat boot.
He grunted and the amusement vanished. He hung on to her, knocking her leg down when she came in for a second kick. Her leg went numb with the force of his blow. She felt the burn of tears, an automatic reaction. That just made her even angrier.
Fighting him physically was impossible and his hold on her ankle seemed unbreakable. She forced her body to relax while she went back to what she was most familiar with. She could manipulate air. Sitting up fast as he crouched down, his upper body coming toward her, she shoved air at him with both hands, a burst of wind at a frightening rate of speed. Honestly, she hadn't meant to push so hard, but she was terrified, angry and determined.
The wind caught him square in the chest, lifted him and threw him back. She was up and running again, pretending she was a gazelle and could run fast. Running had never been her thing. Blythe and Lissa could run forever and enjoy it, but she had always considered it a waste of time. Now, she called on air to keep her lungs filled, to move through her body and aid her as she sprinted as fast as she could.
She hit a barrier, soft this time, and knew it was a net of woven fog. The moment she encountered it, skin to fog, it wrapped around her like a sticky spiderweb. The more she struggled, the tighter it got. She closed her eyes and pushed down a sob as she once again found the control to stop moving her body when she wanted to scream and tear wildly at the bonds holding her prisoner.
Taking a breath, she tested the ropes, trying to find a weak strand. He was adept, extremely skilled, but he had to work fast and that meant his weave wasn't perfect. She tried not to admire his work, but his will was iron and somehow he embedded sheer determination within his weave of air. She tested several strands and realized he was so certain he had won that he wasn't running to catch up with her, he was walking. Once again she could feel his amusement.
Airiana turned her attention to her assailant. With every movement he made, he displaced air and transmitted information to her. He was well over six feet with very broad shoulders and a thick chest. His body felt mainly muscle. He was a machine, she realized, a fighting machine. He was purposeful and confident. He knew she was small and he felt completely in control.
She tilted her chin, holding herself still so once again she appeared resigned to her fate. Very slowly, so as not to disturb the air around her, she began to weave a thin chain going from one tree to the other just in front of her, the trees he would have to pass to get to her if he continued in a straight line. It was a long, very thin strand, neck high, impossible to see in the surrounding fog.
&
nbsp; She concentrated on defiance and fear as her uppermost emotions, knowing he could read both just as she could feel his amusement at her pitting herself against him. He didn't seem the least inclined to call to his partner to help him. Both things told her he was arrogant and definitely felt in charge.
Once again she began to test the strands holding her prisoner. She would only have seconds to loosen the ropes of fog if her plan worked. She had to have a place to start. Up around her shoulder was a thinner strand and she concentrated on it. She felt the exact moment that the man hit the "clothesline" she'd fashioned.
For one small second the bonds loosened and she struck at the weak link, lightning fast. He went down hard, and this time he swore--in Russian. Her heart contracted painfully in her chest. She backed away from him and turned to run. She had taken four steps when he tackled her and brought her down just as hard. She hit the ground, his body over hers, both of his arms wrapped around her waist and the considerable weight of him slamming her to the ground.
She cried out, the force of the blow driving the air from her lungs. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to. Her body went slack and her lungs burned painfully. She gasped, a fish out of water, desperate to breathe, her diaphragm spasming.
He turned her over, surprisingly gentle, his hands going around to the back of her waist, lifting her slightly to ease the cramping. "Just breathe. You'll be all right."
Intellectually she knew he was right, but the reality of not being able to catch her breath left her panic-stricken.
He lifted her again, and the breath slipped back into her lungs. The air around them shifted and she could see his face now. A man's face. Purely masculine, except, perhaps, for the long lashes framing his glacier-blue eyes. He had the coldest eyes she'd ever seen. She shivered, terror pushing at the edges of her control. He looked invincible. He felt invincible.
"I'm not going to hurt you unless you make me. We have to get you out of here and I don't have much time to explain to you. Your father sent me. I'm not with the others, and you'll need to stick close to me so I can help you."
He pushed the words into the small space of air between them, using the technique she had used with Lexi. It was a thread of sound that couldn't go anywhere other than straight where the thread was directed.
"I don't have a father."
"You do, and he wants you safe."