"With Joley? She's my world. She always will be. I'm excited about the baby. You should have seen her face when I told her birth control wasn't going to work."

"I'm happy for you. I really am. Beef up your security and get word to us the moment you think Sorbacov's man has arrived. We'll come." He would be watching as best he could over his youngest brother.

"Jonas Harrington is married to Hannah Drake and lives next door," Ilya said unnecessarily. "He's the local sheriff. I'll let him know I'm going to have company soon. He's good. He's had my back more than once."

Gavriil nodded. "Levi told me he's a good man."

"So you and Lexi?" Ilya said. "Lexi keeps to herself. She sells at the farmer's market sometimes, although often the other women do it for her, as she's quite shy."

Gavriil was already restless, needing to leave, needing to get back to Lexi. He had one more stop to make before he could go back to the farm. Ilya had to sense that Gavriil wanted to leave and he was trying to hold him there with small talk. Gavriil found himself happy about that when normally he would have been annoyed at any delay to his plans.

"She's comfortable on the farm."

"Jonas tells me that all the women have had traumatic events in their lives. Murders of loved ones."

"It's possible that the reason these women can be with us is because they've suffered similar events," Gavriil said. "That, or the universe is lining up to give us something wonderful after so many years of nothing."

He stood up. He couldn't stay any longer. The restless need was on him, an urgent demand he couldn't ignore. "It was good to see you, Ilya..." He trailed off, holding up his hand to silence his brother.

Ilya didn't ask questions but slid a gun from his boot. Gavriil indicated the southern end of the property. More than once he pondered the question of why he could feel the presence of an actual threat to his life, but he could. He had been careful when he'd pulled Benito through the window, because that life-or-death reflex hadn't kicked in, nor had it done so with Lissa. It was out in full force now.

"I guess they managed to get here sooner than you thought," Ilya said softly.

"They aren't in the house yet, but I can feel them." Gavriil was already on the move, making his way unerringly toward the southern side of the long building, back toward the kitchen.

Ilya paced to the right of him, moving in silence. Gavriil shook his head. "Make sure your wife is all right. I've got this."

"She's fine. Jonas is with her, and they aren't going to risk killing her, not when these assassins might be traced back to Sorbacov, you said so yourself. I've already texted him to put the women and his baby in a safe room. And don't worry," Ilya added when Gavriil shot him a disgusted look, "he won't come to try to help. He knows better. His job is to look after Joley and Hannah."

"You'd better be right, because these two will kill anyone on the property. You know how they work."

They had reached the kitchen. "Not that way," Ilya said. "Don't risk opening the door." He took the lead, sliding his hand into a hidden notch behind a wall of hanging pots and pans. A panel slid aside. He stepped inside a narrow corridor.

"I should have known you'd play around with the building itself."

"Actually, this was here. It was never put in the blueprints," Ilya said. "The original owner was a smuggler. He actually had a tunnel built that runs under the road to the sea. He used steel and concrete and the thing is insane. There are several escape exits."

"Nice. You're a Prakenskii. I have a lot of work to do on Lexi's house."

"I wasn't happy with this one until I was told about the hidden corridors, rooms and escapes. I added a few refinements. Cash. Passports. New identities for us."

"Weapons," Gavriil guessed.

"An arsenal," Ilya said. "That farm is probably outfitted to fight several wars."

"I haven't been there long enough to know what they have, but they've intertwined their gifts with those of the women and built some kind of power grid. I could feel it the moment I stepped onto the grounds."

Ilya opened a door cautiously. It led out into the pavilion surrounded by heavy plants and brush. A narrow path allowed them to move through the foliage rapidly and with ease. Ilya signaled that there was a branching path ahead. He went to the left, circling in an arc that brought him out along a creek bed and much closer to the fence between the two properties.

Gavriil took the right, his path taking him into the forest, a much more direct line to the two intruders making their way toward the house. Both men were adept at avoiding cameras, just as Gavriil and his brothers were. Gavriil recognized them immediately. The older of the two, Efrim Goraya, had been in one or two of the same hand-to-hand combat classes. The younger, Georgii Yenotov, had been in a language class. Both were older than Gavriil.

He'd been the youngest in all of his classes, easily excelling, partly because his parents had passed their genius on to their children and partly because he was naturally athletic as well as having physic gifts.

Efrim had been a quiet man, about five years older than Gavriil. He was very good at martial arts and hadn't been pleased when Gavriil had exceeded his training and became the top student in the classes until he saw the way Gavriil took so many beatings from the instructors. He hadn't been the least bit bitter then. Twice, he'd snuck into Gavriil's dormitory room and handed off salve to him. That had been one of the few acts of kindness Gavriil could remember.

Georgii Yenotov had been a kid who should never have gone to such a school. Gavriil was shocked that he was still alive. He'd been the inept student, awkward and clumsy, but he'd been brilliant in languages. He could create a perfect accent the first time he heard it.

Gavriil put aside everything human he knew of the two men and concentrated only on their fighting abilities. Georgii would be dangerous in that he would use his automatic weapon the moment he felt threatened, spraying everything and everybody with a million bullets before he ran.

Efrim was calm and steady. He would move with complete confidence, and his specialty was hand-to-hand combat. He would be the one in the lead, holding Georgii together, wanting a quiet kill. Over the years, Gavriil had heard of some of his hits. All had been deemed accidents, and it didn't surprise him that Uri Sorbacov would send Efrim in first.

Efrim's specialty was taking out a target and making it look as if it was a natural death, suicide or an accident, even if that meant taking out a number of innocents around his target. Gavriil knew he would make for the house, looking for a quick kill and getting out as fast as possible if Sorbacov had given him the information that Gavriil and his brothers were close.

Gavriil went very still. Of course Sorbacov hadn't told the two assassins. Georgii wouldn't have come. Efrim, yes, but not Georgii.

Gavriil positioned himself in the deepest shadows along the route the two would take to enter through the kitchen. He used his gift of blurring every line, fooling the human eye into thinking he was part of his surroundings, in this case, heavy brush. He crouched low and stayed very still, not moving, but keeping his blood moving to keep his muscles warm. His breath was controlled so that air barely moved around him.

He heard them. They were a few feet apart and moving with stealth. He thought they sounded a bit like elephants. Three times twigs snapped, and the leaves crunched beneath their feet. He spotted Ilya several yards away, dropping in behind them. He didn't want his younger brother anywhere near the automatic weapons.

Gavriil had wanted to kill Efrim first, but he knew exactly how Georgii would react. He palmed his knife and waited, allowing them to close the distance between them. As they came toward him, he shot Georgii between the eyes as he threw the knife at Efrim.

Georgii went down hard. The knife lodged in Efrim's arm, slicing through muscle and tendons so that the weapon cradled in his hands fell to the ground. Efrim swore, and rushed him, drawing Gavriil's knife from his body. He threw just as Ilya and Gavriil shot simultaneously.

Gavriil twisted his body as he shot, but the knife sliced through his biceps, burning like hell and separating far too much skin and muscle. Ilya jogged toward him as he stepped out of the shadows and stared down at the two dead assassins.

"They didn't know you were anywhere around, did they?" Ilya asked, his eyes on his brother's wound and not the two dead men.

"No. They should have been more cautious. Sorbacov expected you to kill them both," Gavriil said. "He's using us to do his dirty work for him. He knows we'll dispose of the bodies."

Gritting his teeth, he moved away from the two dead men, careful not to allow his blood to drip onto the ground. "Nothing like getting cut with my own knife." He'd forgotten the fire. The feeling of a sharp blade penetrating his skin, separating muscle and tissue, tearing through his body like a hot brand.

He worked to keep his expression pure stone as the memories rose along with the pain to swamp him. He'd been stabbed seven times, and each time the knife went in, his attacker had twisted it as it came out, leaving behind maximum damage.

"Gavriil, that blade was covered with his blood." Ilya frowned down at Efrim. "You have no idea what kind of diseases you could contract. At the very least you could get a terrible infection."

If anyone knew about infection from stab wounds, it was Gavriil. He'd had to be on intravenous antibiotics for months. He'd had to go to an old doctor he'd done a favor for to get the medicine. He'd been barely able to move, let alone care for himself. He'd been lucky no one had found him during those days.

"I'll take care of it," Gavriil said grimly. The thought of what was to come wasn't pleasant.

Ilya shook his head. "Libby Drake is home. She's an amazing healer. She'll come if I ask her to."

Gavriil shook his head. "We've got to take care of this mess. I've still got a couple of things to do." He had to get back to Lexi. Suddenly that was the most important thing he could imagine. He felt the compulsion growing stronger with every passing minute.

"Let me call Jonas. I'll report two intruders with automatic weapons. I've got permits for my guns."

"I shot Georgii, and one of my slugs is in Efrim," Gavriil said, exhausted. He'd had enough of killing for the day. He wanted to go back to Lexi and feel her hands moving over his skin, breathe her in and feel at peace again, just for a little while.

"Give me your gun." Ilya held out his hand. "Come up to the house with me. I'll take care of that wound and then you get out of here. I'll call Jonas."

Gavriil hesitated. The last thing he wanted was trouble with the police. He wiped his prints off the weapon and using his shirt, handed it over.

"Your sheriff friend has probably already called for backup. He had to have heard the shots." Gavriil backed away. "Handle this however you think best, Ilya. I'll be at Lexi's. You need to come by and see your brothers."

Gavriil waited until he was back in his truck and had his first aid kit out before he pulled the knife blade out of his arm. He'd waited to keep the blood loss to a minimum, but it took discipline to walk back with the blade in his arm.

He slapped a compress bandage on it fast and sat breathing slow, concentrating until the pain subsided enough for him to function.

His dogs were waiting for him, and he couldn't take much longer to go pick them up. They were well-trained, but he didn't want to take a chance that someone would accidently stumble across them. Still, it was slow going. The wound needed stitches. He could sew the damn thing up himself, but it was an awkward angle and he had the feeling that Lexi was very good with a needle when it came to wounds.

His dogs were exactly where he'd left them. He signaled them up and to do their business. Both obeyed instantly and then came running to him. He crouched down to scratch behind their ears and on their chins. They were massive, intimidating animals. Black Russian Terriers, bred in the Red Star Kennel of Moscow in the 1930s, the breed was confident, loyal, intelligent and very protective.

Gavriil had a natural ability with dogs, one of the many gifts passed on to him from his mother and father. He had run across the breed a number of times and had been intrigued with their intelligence. He had found them to be calm, confident and very self-assured, and in need of an equally confident handler.

All black, robust with big, solid bones and heavy muscles, the Black Russian Terrier was a great guard dog. He felt if there was anywhere a dog was needed, it was on Lexi's farm. This pair, Drago, shortened from Fierce Black Dragon, and Kiss, short for Kiss of Death, had saved his life.

The recovery after being stabbed so many times had been horrendous. He wasn't a man who could recover in a hospital or in physical therapy. He had hidden in the mountains and forests of Russia, but first, he had acquired a male and a female from champion bloodlines. Both had been puppies and required daily walks and training. He had been forced to get up and move even when he thought it would kill him.

The dogs had been his constant companions and he'd spent nearly two years alone in their company, working with them until they were inseparable and totally trusted one another. The dogs were naturally wary around strangers and he would have to introduce them to the family members on the farm slowly. Kiss was pregnant with her first litter and getting close to her time. He needed to get her home and find her a place she would approve of to have her puppies.

Gavriil glanced at his watch for what seemed the two hundredth time. He had to get home to Lexi. Who was he kidding? The anxiety wasn't over his wound or the dog having her pups, it was the need to see her again. What had happened to him that he was so obsessed with Lexi Thompson?

"Load up, we're going to our new home. And don't get ugly with her. I'll expect you both to protect her, same as me." He had little doubt that she would manage to win the dogs over just as she had him.

8.

Gavriil was grateful he had plenty of time in the house to allow the two Black Russian Terriers to get used to Lexi's scent. She was all over the house. He tried to inhale her, tried to take her in, letting the dogs explore their new home while he sank into one of the deep, cozy chairs in the large sitting room. Maybe it was all those days without sleep, or loss of blood, or possibly the memories of the stab wounds so close, but he felt very weak. If he didn't get Lexi home, and he passed out, the dogs would never allow her into the house.

He let his breath out slowly, stretched his legs out comfortably in front of him and slowly turned his hand over, looking down at it. He drew one finger down the center of his palm and the psychic mark blazed into life, two perfect circles joined together. He whispered her name softly and pressed his lips into the brand on his palm.

Come home to me, angel moy, I need you, he whispered in his mind, reaching for her with every cell, every fiber of his being.

He closed his eyes, allowing his body to absorb the pain. There was no fighting the burn along his nerve endings, or the terrible agony consuming his shoulder and arm. He was no stranger to pain, but still, even allowing it to take him over didn't stop the initial feeling of hopelessness.

He pressed his thumb tightly over the two rings and let his eyes close. He didn't know how long he'd been drifting in a sea of pain when both dogs, lying at his feet, leapt up and gave low rumbling growls. He lifted his gun from the arm of the chair and sent both back to the floor with a command.

Lexi pushed open the door and stood there, framed in the gathering dusk, her hair disheveled as if she'd been running, her gaze jumping to the dogs and then moving over him, assessing how badly he was hurt.

"Is it safe to come near you?"

He couldn't help the smile coming out of nowhere, the way she made him feel. She didn't panic, when she should have been having one of her panic attacks. The dogs were huge and both targeted her instantly, never taking their wary, threatening gaze from her. The only thing keeping them from attacking her was his command to stay.

"Stay very still. I'm in a vulnerable position and they don't like it."

"So am I." She hung on to the door, ready to slam it closed if either dog moved. "And put the gun down. You don't look in any shape to be using that right now and it might accidently go off."

He raised an eyebrow. The gun felt like an extension of his arm, so familiar in his hand he knew it was impossible for him to make that kind of mistake, but he put it down on the arm of his chair and stood up, surprised at his weakness. He led the dogs into the other room. Neither liked it, but they settled when he gave them a hand signal.

"It's safe to come in," he said, and collapsed back in the chair. "Just don't go into the back bedroom."

"Let me see your arm. You have blood all over you." Lexi rushed across the room to pull back his sleeve. The bandage was soaked in blood. She shook her head. "Is this the way I'm going to find you every time I leave you by yourself?"

He put his head back and closed his eyes. Her touch was gentle on his body. He felt power run through her. He could have slowed the bleeding had he tried, but he'd been too tired. He didn't want to move. The sound of her bustling around the house, getting things together to take care of the wound soothed him.

"Unfortunately," he murmured without opening his eyes, "the blade was in someone else before it was in me. That makes it doubly dangerous." The thought of another massive infection was daunting.

"Don't worry about anything right now. Just rest. Honestly, Gavriil, I don't know how you've survived this long without me."

Her voice whispered over his skin, over his senses, dulling the pain as nothing else could. Her hands were sure, filled with healing warmth as they stripped away the soaked bandage and cleansed the wound thoroughly with some kind of strong antiseptic. The burn robbed him of his breath, and he forced his body into a meditative trance, putting himself far from the pain, a technique he'd used numerous times to survive.

He was aware of Lexi working on the wound, patiently sewing it up. She had to stitch inside as well as out and he was a little surprised at her skill. When she was finished and went to move away from him, he caught her wrist and held her close.

"What was her name?"

"Who?"

"The doctor. The woman who taught you so much. What was her name?"

He felt the tremor that ran through her, but he didn't let go. He needed to know the name of the woman who had treated her like a human being. The woman who knew she would eventually be thrown away, but had reached out to a young, traumatized child and given her the best of herself. A worthwhile human being.

"Daiyu Zhang. Her name was Daiyu Zhang."

Lexi's voice was filled with tears. His heart bled for her. Gavriil turned her palm up and pulled it to his mouth. He pressed kisses into it, as if that could take away the years of hurt.

"I'm sorry, Lexi. She was an extraordinary woman. I wish I could have known her." Gavriil closed her fingers over the center of her palm and brought her fist to his mouth again. His teeth scraped gently back and forth over her knuckles. "If we ever have a relationship and we do decide to stay together, if we end up with a child, we'll have to honor her with the name Daiyu."

Lexi pressed her lips together tightly for a moment, her eyes swimming with tears, turning them into sparkling jewels. "It means black jade. She would have liked that, having a child named after her. She always wanted children, but she couldn't have them. That was part of the excuse her husband used to get rid of her."

"Is that why you have so many pieces of black jade in the house? I noticed a piece in every room. I thought at the time that the jade was part of your Chinese decor."

"She used to say her black jade was the stone of protection. And that was what she was, how she lived her life, as a human shield against anger and aggression. She said the stone was important to ward those things off because it had an elemental shield of energy against both physical and psychic attacks. It can also be used as a powerful healing stone."

"So you filled your house with it."

"With her," Lexi said, and pulled away from him. "I filled my house with the things she taught me. I never went to school after he took me. I didn't have the opportunities other children had. She was my only teacher. She was the only adult who took an interest in me with no other agenda. She was the one person there who never betrayed me."

"In essence, Daiyu was your mother."

Lexi slowly nodded her head. "She's all I had. Caine took her away, the same way he took my family."

Gavriil hooked his one good arm around her waist and pulled her down into his lap. "I'm just going to comfort you, nothing more. You're breaking my heart right now. Maybe I need the comfort more than you do, but all the same, just curl up here for one moment and let me hold you."

Gavriil thought she would resist, or hold herself away from him. He was well aware no one had ever held her like he was doing. He kept his arm around her and waited patiently, not forcing her, or putting more pressure on her. Slowly she relaxed into him, and in that moment, he felt as if he'd just been given the most precious gift in the world her trust.