Hidden Currents Read Online Free PDF

the blade. She’d seen the patches before.
    Outlaw bikers from one of the most notorious clubs rising on three continents were the only ones who would dare to wear the symbol of the Sword. Some said the origins of the group were Russian, and it quickly spread across Europe to the United States. The recruits were brutal, prison-hardened and willing to kill over the slightest insult. She had run across them in several cases related to trafficking guns and drugs, as well as murder for hire. The club, known as the Sword, was fast gaining a deadly reputation that rivaled existing crime lords. Convictions were rare because only a handful of witnesses had ever agreed to testify against them. And of those few, not one had ever lived out the day after a death sentence was handed down from the club’s notorious leader, Evan Shackler.
    What would Evan Shackler or any of his bikers be doing on the island of a wealthy shipping magnate? And why was Stavros clapping him on the back as if they were old friends? More than old friends . . . Brothers? They greeted one another in a traditional Greek manner, kissing both cheeks, which wasn’t a sign that they were relatives, but they looked uncannily alike. As they walked side by side, she could see a huge resemblance, although Evan looked wild and unkempt with his long hair and shadowed face beside Stavros’s handsome executive image. They were close in height and weight and had the same mannerisms, even moving their hands in the same way. She’d have to look into the files for Shackler and meticulously check his background.
    But if Shackler was in some way related to Stavros—which she admitted was a leap—could he be psychic? Had Stavros protected his island to prevent a relative from using psychic ability against him? That would make sense. If Stavros was psychic, he would want to be able to use his abilities just as she and her sisters did in the privacy of their home. Never once had she thought of constructing an energy field to prevent psychic talents from being used, so Stavros had to have a good reason for doing so.
    Something bit the back of her shoulder, a vicious sting that was hard enough to send her spinning around. The sound of a gunshot registered almost before the fact that she had been hit did. Blood stained the front of her shirt and down her arm, bursting across the roof like an artist’s spray.
    Stavros was shoved to the ground by Sid, one hand preventing him from moving while Sid’s gun tracked someone behind her.
    “No one touches her!” Stavros screamed. “Kill him. Shoot him.”
    Sid’s gun blazed and she heard a body fall behind her, realizing Sid’s gun was trained on the guard who shot her, not her, and she scrambled back over the roof, crawling because she couldn’t stand, couldn’t use her useless arm. Breathing was difficult as she made her way to the edge of the roof overlooking the cliffs. Her body hurt so badly she didn’t think she could make it back into the room even if she wanted to. She couldn’t let Stavros keep her. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself and she knew what he wanted now. He would keep her in this house—this prison—and she would be like the women she had tried to help—trapped in a world serving Stavros’s will.
    “Sheena!” Stavros was on his feet. “Don’t!”
    Sid went up the side of the house, moving fast, but her vision was blurring and she knew she had to jump while she could. He would reach her if she didn’t get the nerve to take her chances in the sea and rocks below. Once away from the energy field, she’d have more power. She leapt out into space and lifted her arm to summon the wind.
    The wind roared at her, shoving her slender body out away from the rocks to the welcoming water. Behind her, Stavros lifted his arms and sent his countercommand. As capricious as ever, the wind shifted, dropping her the remaining feet. She hit hard, her mind exploding into a million fragments as the cool water closed