He understood what she meant. She was bound to earth an earth element and she could feel danger through the soil itself. Up on the tractor, she had no way to feel trouble coming at her. "You must have felt very vulnerable working at the farm alone at times."

She shrugged. "It's our home. I'm good at growing things, but I'll admit, I did wish for a dog or two at times to guard my back."

"Now you've got the dogs and me."

"I don't know which is better," she teased.

His answering smile faded from his face as he watched her slip from the house. Immediately she took the sunshine with her. He felt the cold slipping back into his veins. Shadows drew him, settled around him. The dark blue eyes went glacier cold and he was once more the man he was far more familiar with.

10.

Lissa Piner's home was situated on a small hill, surrounded by trees, but the trees were a good forty or fifty feet from her house. She had planted low-lying shrubs, flowers and ground cover all around her home. The grounds appeared well manicured, landscaped and beautiful. Metal structures adorned the landscaping surrounding the house. Each was a large, beautiful sculpture that flowed with the wind, creating movement. The house was two stories with the familiar wraparound porch the women all favored. At first glance it appeared to be the home of an artist. Gavriil wasn't deceived.

He studied the house from the shadows of the giant redwoods. She had the perfect spot for defense. There were no plants or trees that would offer cover to anyone sneaking up on her. He spotted several cameras as well as motion detectors. He would bet his last dollar that this woman not only had an arsenal in her home, but several escape routes involving one or more of the beautiful art pieces decorating the grounds around her house.

Out of habit he checked his favorite weapon, an FNP 45 Tactical with ambidextrous controls. It was accurate and had never let him down. He considered the weapon an extension of his body, and it felt that way in his hand. Fully loaded and ready, he slipped it out of sight and signaled to the dogs to stay.

Gavriil stepped out alone to cross the open space to Lissa's home. He knew within six steps that she was aware of his presence. He'd taken ten more before she appeared on her porch. She had one hand behind a column; the other she used to wave to him. There was no doubt she had a gun in her fist, hidden behind the large carved post. He didn't slow down or hesitate, but continued toward her.

"Is something wrong with Lexi?"

He read the anxiety in her eyes, although her face remained open and friendly. He shook his head. "I dropped by for another reason altogether. Lexi's working in her lettuce field. She said she had to finish planting or she would have come with me."

Lissa nodded. "The helicopter used to kidnap Airiana set down in her lettuce field and tore it up. Of course she would have replanted. I should have offered to help."

He had gained the stairs, and it forced her to take a step back. Her hidden hand went behind her for just a moment, and he guessed she had slipped the gun into the waistband of her jeans.

"Did I interrupt something?" He glanced through the screen to the front room where maps and brochures covered the floor. "I guess I should have called ahead, but I didn't think to ask for your phone number."

She shrugged. "I'm planning a trip. It's not a big deal. I like to get away to other countries. It inspires me to see different architecture. I love the museums and art galleries and I like to blend work with vacation. I've got three clients who want chandeliers, big money for the farm."

"Do you happen to have coffee?" He tried to look as innocent as possible but figured, when she shot him a look, that he'd failed. "Lexi doesn't have any."

She nodded slowly. "Come in. My house is a bit of a mess right now, but if you can keep from stepping on anything, and find a place to sit, we can talk over coffee."

"Who designed your home?" he asked casually as he stepped inside. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades turning his back on her. He stepped aside politely, holding the screen to allow her to go in front of him.

"I did. I spent a long time trying to come up with the perfect home to suit me. I do a lot of glassblowing and metalwork. In the beginning I didn't have a studio so I had to improvise. I needed a basement until I could find a studio in town I could afford."

Gavriil took a slow, careful look around. She had beautiful chandeliers, hand blown, as well as paintings and sculptures worth a fortune. He had no doubt some of the paintings were done by Judith, but she had a few masterpieces.

The maps on the floor were mainly of St. Petersburg in Russia. She had books strewn around of buildings and architecture, all Russian.

"You're thinking of visiting St. Petersburg?"

She made no move to close the books or remove the maps, a mark of a true professional. She seemed perfectly at ease. "I've wanted to tour a few of the cities there for a long while. Some of the buildings are so ornate and beautiful. One of the clients interested in my chandeliers is in St. Petersburg, so this is an opportunity I can't pass up. Traveling is a hobby of mine. I've traveled extensively and have managed to see some extraordinary sights."

"Sicily?" He nodded toward the collection of photographs she had on the wall in her hallway.

"I think Sicily has the best examples of Baroque art and architecture you can find. Give me a minute. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Do you take anything in it?"

He shook his head. "Just black is fine."

She was smooth. Lev, Stefan and Maxim had all been around her, and they were very good at scenting danger, but not one of them seemed aware of what Lissa Piner was. He studied the maps and the books.

Lissa returned with a mug of coffee for both of them. She waved him to a chair and sank into the one opposite him. He was fairly certain there were weapons in the chair she had chosen to sit in.

"What can I do for you, Gavriil?" Her eyes remained steady on his face.

"I brought a pair of dogs with me. Black Russian Terriers. Are you familiar with the breed?" It wasn't a common breed in the United States, but he was certain Lissa wasn't originally from the United States.

She didn't even blink. "Not really."

"They were bred in Russia's Red Star Kennel, a dog for military work. They have a high protective instinct, and my female is pregnant with her first litter. I was going to leave them with my brothers while I led Sorbacov's assassins away from here, but Lexi has convinced me to stay."

Lissa nodded. "That doesn't surprise me. The farm is overrun with Prakenskiis. There must be some connection between elements that draws other elements. I'm actually glad you're here. I know, without a doubt, you'll protect her. I can see it in your eyes. I just wasn't certain she would let you stay for long."

"It appears she has decided in my favor."

"That's good." She sat back in her chair, seemingly relaxed looking at him over the rim of her coffee mug. "Tell me about Sorbacov. Who is he and why does he want all of you dead?"

Her question didn't surprise him; in fact, he was waiting for it. "It's an old story."

"But one still going on. He's threatening the lives of my sisters and their husbands. He's capable of sending his assassins here, you've said so yourself. All of you have mad skills when it comes to assassinations, yet none of you have gone after him. Why is that?"

Gavriil sipped at his coffee, studying her face, determining whether or not to give her the information she required. She was patient, waiting for him to make up his mind.

She loved Lexi. She didn't question that he would stay with her youngest sister. She not only expected it, but wanted him there. "Perhaps, if I am going to give you details about our greatest enemy, I should bring my dogs in for you to meet. Once the introductions are made, they will lie quietly while we discuss this."

"And they won't eat me when I come to visit."

"That is the plan. Lexi told me you were uncertain about having dogs on the property. You, of all your sisters, seem most concerned with security and I would think you would want them."

Lissa smiled at him, but there was no humor in the smile. "I've had a bad experience that colored my opinion. It's silly really. It shouldn't have. We had dogs when I was a child, and our handler betrayed my family. It was a long time ago."

He felt the difference in the room temperature almost immediately. The warmth was subtle, but it was there. Lissa looked perfectly calm, her hands as steady as a rock around her coffee mug, her eyes as cool and serene as ever, but he knew the memory he'd just brought back was a trigger.

"Tell me what happened."

"It doesn't matter."

"You're asking me to treat you like a sister, to give you information I wouldn't ordinarily share with anyone. Give me that same courtesy. I know your real name isn't Lissa Piner and you aren't from this country. English is your second language, not your first, although your accent is impeccable. I know you've done work very similar to mine. You favor your left leg, just a little when you're tired, although it doesn't hamper your speed in the least, so it's an old injury that has healed but still causes pain once in a while."

They stared at each other, two warriors who had recognized each other almost immediately. Lissa took another sip of coffee.

"Your home is a fortress, and you have an arsenal here. You're far better at hand-to-hand combat and self-defense than you let on, and to be with these women, you've lost a family member to murder, which probably started you on your path."

He was guessing on most of the latter, but it was a fairly safe bet.

Lissa shrugged. "I guess you did recognize me, and here I was trying so hard to cover my tracks."

"Not that hard. You needed help for your next project so you let me see what you wanted me to see."

She smiled for the first time. "So true."

"So tell me about the dogs that attacked you. It's important to Lexi that you're comfortable here on the farm. My dogs saved my life. I wouldn't want them to frighten you to the point that you felt the need to protect yourself. They make good protection dogs, and Kiss should have six to ten pups. If each family takes at least one, they'll bond with that owner and protect the house and farm for everyone."

"It's a good plan but..." Lissa pulled up the denim covering her left leg.

The scars were horrific. From her knee to her ankle she carried the evidence of a vicious attack. He waited until she pulled the material back into place.

"What happened?"

"My father was born into a certain family. I won't say he was a good man, but he was a good father. I was too young to know that he was mixed up in things he shouldn't have been, but his father before him had been, so he did what most sons did and became part of the family business."

Lissa put her mug down. Her hands were still and steady as ever, but her eyes went hot. There was no doubt the room temperature rose another degree or two. He felt sweat begin to bead on his skin and he breathed evenly to accommodate the difference.

"There was a man from a rival family who saw my mother. Their family was much more dangerous than ours, more men, more territory, more money. He went after my mother and she turned him down. I heard her telling my father about it."

In spite of how casual she tried to appear, her tone grew tighter. He expected the chair beneath her to burst into flames at any moment. The room actually took on a glow, as if the early morning sun had come inside.

"He told my mother to pack a suitcase fast, that we were leaving the country that night. He told my mother the man was psychotic and all of us would be in danger. His father protected him, and he would come after her for turning him down."

She pressed her lips together, and for the first time he saw her hand shake as she lifted it to her bright red hair.

"Northern Italy," he guessed to give her some time. "You don't find red hair often in southern Italy, but it's there in the north and your hair is natural." There was no denying it now. The moment he said it, he could see the fair skin and very red hair, thick and luxurious as Italian hair often was, along with her striking deep blue eyes. The combination was unforgettable, not necessarily an asset in the work he suspected she must have done.

"Ferrara. A beautiful city. We had a wonderful home. I loved it. All the classic architecture. Of course there were men, guards, all the time, but I didn't really understand why at the time. They came as we were leaving, four carloads cutting us off from our ride and the men who would have protected us. I'll never forget the sound of gunfire or the smell of blood as the intruders killed everyone. Our servants. Our protectors. Even our gardener and his family. He had four young children."

Gavriil inhaled deeply. He could almost smell the scent of gunpowder. He could hear the screams of his mother and the cries of the baby. His father calling out his love to his sons, telling them to be strong, making them promise they would always protect and look after the younger ones.

He lived in Russia, Lexi in the United States, and Lissa in Italy, and all three had been visited by men with guns, men who had destroyed their families. It was no wonder Lissa identified with Lexi and looked after her.

"Our dog handler, a man who had eaten frequently at our table and even played with me in the gardens, a man my father trusted, betrayed us that night. He was working for the other family and he set the dogs after us. One of the dogs caught up with me and dragged me down. I couldn't keep up with my parents and they both turned back to help me. My father shot the dog but more kept coming."

"You couldn't run with your leg so chewed up."

She shook her head. "My father told my mother to keep going, but more dogs came and they took her down. There was a cemetery on the property and he told me to hide in a certain crypt until my uncle came for me. He said to wrap my leg and get there. He pushed a large bag into my hands, kissed me hard and shoved me away from him. I did what he said."

"You saw them kill your parents."

She nodded slowly. "I could see the men laughing, watching the dogs tear them apart. I never forgot any of their faces. Not a single one."

He studied her expression. "Your uncle came for you and he was a hit man for the mob, wasn't he? He taught you how to survive as well as how to hunt."

"Every last one of them."

There was a finality in her tone he couldn't help but admire. He found himself not only respecting Lissa, but liking her.

"I understand why you would hesitate to bring dogs onto the property. But if you were the one training the dog..."

"I wouldn't know how."

"I'd help you. Let me introduce you to my dogs. They'll be the ones protecting Lexi. I'd like to add them to the security here on the farm. I know we can make this farm impossible to infiltrate in spite of how large it is. We have only to protect, first the homes and then the places anyone works, such as the fields."

Lissa took a deep breath, her deep blue eyes moving over his face as if looking for something. He knew he wasn't much to look at.

"First tell me what happened to your arm."

"Sorbacov sent a couple of men after Ilya, my youngest brother."

"I know who he is. He can handle himself."

"Does Lexi know what happened to you? The others?"

"They know some of it. Enough to know my family was killed, but not what I am, or my real name. I'm not that person anymore."

His eyebrow shot up. "Then why the interest in Sorbacov? Why St. Petersburg?"

She shrugged again. "Bring in your dogs, but you'd better be able to control them or I'll shoot them."

Gavriil felt it was very important that Lissa see how well-trained an animal could be and what an asset the Black Russian Terriers would be on the farm. He went to the door and called them in, using only a hand signal. His past didn't allow him to turn his back completely on Lissa, but he tried to be polite about it, presenting a side target.

Drago and Kiss rushed to him and both sat squarely in front of him, but Drago's eyes were on Lissa, not on him. He was already targeting potential trouble.

"See how quickly they alert, but he's waiting to see whether you're a friend or enemy because I'm with you," he said, keeping his tone low and matter-of-fact. He gave the dogs the hand signal he used to let them know the person close wasn't to be attacked before bringing them in by his side to meet her.

"They'll accept you much better if you allow them to smell you."

"I said I'd do it." Her tone was tight, but she had nerves of steel. She held out her hand to the dogs, allowing them to catch her scent.

"Call them by their names and when you feel safe enough, pet them. They'll be a little aloof, but that's the way they should be."

Lissa followed his instructions to the letter. He could see she was surprised at how silky and soft their coats were. Both dogs allowed her to touch them, accepting her into their circle because Gavriil had decreed it.

Gavriil sank into the chair again and waved the dogs to the floor at his feet. Only then did Lissa settle enough to pick up her coffee mug. He knew she'd had one hand on the dogs and the other on her hidden weapon.

"I told you about my family. I would like you to tell me about Sorbacov."

"This vacation you're taking to St. Petersburg doesn't have anything to do with him, does it? Because he's surrounded by security at all times. The place where he stays is impregnable. If he could have been gotten to, one of us would have done so."

"I'm taking a vacation to St. Petersburg to make certain I'm nowhere near the farm or in Sea Haven just in case another of your brothers decides to show up. That, and it's worth several thousand dollars to the farm if I can land this client." She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on the arm of the chair. "Is Sorbacov in St. Petersburg? I would have thought Moscow."