Hidden Currents Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Christine Feehan
over her head, accepting her into its soothing arms. For a moment, she thought someone had landed beside her and that an arm brushed against her, but then she was sinking, not fighting, letting the sea take her home, far away from fear and a life she didn’t believe would ever be hers.
Jackson. She whispered his name in her mind as she floated away.
2
JACKSON Deveau stepped through the doorway onto the front porch to stare up at the gathering clouds churning above the choppy waters of the sea. The storm was moving in faster than predicted, as it often did on the northern California coast. Fingers of fog, pushed by the building wind, reached shore ahead of the storm, covering the coastline in a wet, gray blanket.
She was out there somewhere. Alone. Alive. He knew she was alive. She had to be alive. Elle Drake, youngest of the Drake sisters, had been missing for a month now. Something terrible had happened to her or she would have reported in. Her undercover job had taken her into the seamiest side of life—human trafficking—and somehow her handlers had lost her. Her family had been told she was presumed dead, but he didn’t believe it any more than her sisters did. He would know. They would know. The Drakes were psychically connected and, although Elle’s sisters were devastated over her disappearance, the one thing they agreed upon was that she was alive. He wouldn’t— couldn’t —believe anything else.
So he had to find her. Today. If her cover had been blown as was suspected, whoever had her would keep her far away, out of the United States, if they didn’t kill her first. Her family had tried numerous times, he had tried, but all of them had failed to even get so much as a direction on her. He had heard her soft voice nearly a month earlier and as many times as he replayed it in his head, he was certain she sounded afraid. And Elle wasn’t afraid of much.
The storm would provide a much needed boost of energy and the plan was simple. All of them would gather together in Elle’s protected house, home of her ancestors, gather the storm’s energy, send it out into the universe and find her. And it was going to happen, because there was no other alternative.
He whistled and his dog, Bomber, bounded around the corner and paced with him to his truck. The big German Shepherd jumped inside and settled on the seat next to him. “Today, baby,” he whispered softly into the wind, letting it carry his words away from him.
The drive through Sea Haven was familiar now. He’d moved to the small village on the coast after serving first as an Army Ranger and then in the DEA with his friend Jonas Harrington. Things had gone to hell more than once, both in the army when he was taken prisoner and later on an undercover assignment. Jonas had wanted to go home to Sea Haven and had talked Jackson into moving with him. He’d joined the sheriff’s office and patrolled the coastline, not realizing for a long time what the inhabitants of Sea Haven had come to mean to him. He was a man of few words and even fewer friends, but he had been accepted in the small, tight-knit community.
The village was mourning Elle Drake, just as her family—and he—was mourning for her. There was a sense of quiet, of dread, as he drove through the streets. Everywhere he looked, he could see the small yellow ribbons on businesses and homes, waving from fences and trees. One of their own was missing and they all wanted her home. The wind continued to drive the fog until the coastal highway was thick and gray and mist covered his windshield. Gloom hung like a cloud as he continued down the highway until he came to the winding drive that led up to the Drake estate.
The multistoried house stood at the top of a cliff, surrounded by trees and a beautiful, colorful garden that even in the cold of winter grew and blossomed. The music of chimes in the wind hit him first and as the wind blew in from the sea, the various chimes danced and played an
Jackson. She whispered his name in her mind as she floated away.
2
JACKSON Deveau stepped through the doorway onto the front porch to stare up at the gathering clouds churning above the choppy waters of the sea. The storm was moving in faster than predicted, as it often did on the northern California coast. Fingers of fog, pushed by the building wind, reached shore ahead of the storm, covering the coastline in a wet, gray blanket.
She was out there somewhere. Alone. Alive. He knew she was alive. She had to be alive. Elle Drake, youngest of the Drake sisters, had been missing for a month now. Something terrible had happened to her or she would have reported in. Her undercover job had taken her into the seamiest side of life—human trafficking—and somehow her handlers had lost her. Her family had been told she was presumed dead, but he didn’t believe it any more than her sisters did. He would know. They would know. The Drakes were psychically connected and, although Elle’s sisters were devastated over her disappearance, the one thing they agreed upon was that she was alive. He wouldn’t— couldn’t —believe anything else.
So he had to find her. Today. If her cover had been blown as was suspected, whoever had her would keep her far away, out of the United States, if they didn’t kill her first. Her family had tried numerous times, he had tried, but all of them had failed to even get so much as a direction on her. He had heard her soft voice nearly a month earlier and as many times as he replayed it in his head, he was certain she sounded afraid. And Elle wasn’t afraid of much.
The storm would provide a much needed boost of energy and the plan was simple. All of them would gather together in Elle’s protected house, home of her ancestors, gather the storm’s energy, send it out into the universe and find her. And it was going to happen, because there was no other alternative.
He whistled and his dog, Bomber, bounded around the corner and paced with him to his truck. The big German Shepherd jumped inside and settled on the seat next to him. “Today, baby,” he whispered softly into the wind, letting it carry his words away from him.
The drive through Sea Haven was familiar now. He’d moved to the small village on the coast after serving first as an Army Ranger and then in the DEA with his friend Jonas Harrington. Things had gone to hell more than once, both in the army when he was taken prisoner and later on an undercover assignment. Jonas had wanted to go home to Sea Haven and had talked Jackson into moving with him. He’d joined the sheriff’s office and patrolled the coastline, not realizing for a long time what the inhabitants of Sea Haven had come to mean to him. He was a man of few words and even fewer friends, but he had been accepted in the small, tight-knit community.
The village was mourning Elle Drake, just as her family—and he—was mourning for her. There was a sense of quiet, of dread, as he drove through the streets. Everywhere he looked, he could see the small yellow ribbons on businesses and homes, waving from fences and trees. One of their own was missing and they all wanted her home. The wind continued to drive the fog until the coastal highway was thick and gray and mist covered his windshield. Gloom hung like a cloud as he continued down the highway until he came to the winding drive that led up to the Drake estate.
The multistoried house stood at the top of a cliff, surrounded by trees and a beautiful, colorful garden that even in the cold of winter grew and blossomed. The music of chimes in the wind hit him first and as the wind blew in from the sea, the various chimes danced and played an