The Serpent in the Stone

CHAPTER Fifteen

Faith gathered up the last of her dinner dishes and handed them to Michael. She stood and fisted her hands at the small of her back. The day had been productive not only in digging, but in aching muscles. A hot bath would have been a dream come true. Right then, she’d even have settled for a cold one.

Sold, she thought, heading to her tent for swimwear, a towel, and a change of clothes.

When she emerged, Dustin was still working. “Swim?” she offered.

He waved her on. “No, thanks. Camp shower. I’ll tell the others where you went if they want to join.”

Shrugging, Faith headed away to the inlet.

When she got there, she found Ian sitting on the beach, bent over a notebook and absorbed in writing. A folded pile of clothes, a rumpled towel, and the remains of what appeared to be his dinner sat beside him on the sand. From his damp chestnut hair, she guessed he’d already had his swim.

At her approach, he looked back over his shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey, back. Why do you not seem happy to see me?”

He flashed a brief grin. “Sorry. I thought you were Sara.”

She mirrored his grin and sat beside him. “Taller. Blonder. She’s finishing up some lab work, I think.”

“Did everything go all right today?”

“Yeah, all things considered. Working beside Tom Callander has become a new experience in walking on eggshells.”

His gaze swept her figure as if to assure himself she was in one piece. She shook her head to forestall his concern. “We’re okay. He acted completely innocent, like he hadn’t...done what he did.”

Lines appeared in Ian’s brow. “Maybe he’s waiting.”

“Thanks for that cheery thought.” She drew up her knees and hugged them while creepy-crawly sensations migrated through her body.

Needing to change the subject, she studied the notebook in his lap. In the margins of his field notes, she caught a sketch of a wolf’s face. The markings matched those of her sister’s shapeshift. “You don’t think they’re going to question that when you get back to the college?”

“They don’t read these. They get the edited version from a computer.” He closed the book, then stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket.

Faith got the impression that it wasn’t the only drawing of Sara that he’d done in that notebook, lupine or otherwise. She held his gaze just long enough for him to respond with a look that said, Forget it, you can’t see it. She giggled, and he shook his head.

Time passed in companionable silence while they gazed out over the water. The waves of the inlet whispered at the shore. Faith watched the few clouds pick up threads of champagne pink and sherbet orange, prelude to the sun’s fiery descent.

Without warning, Hakon sprang into her mind. Aesa, he’d called her, before she told him her name was Faith. She’d pondered on that while caring for Sara’s fever. Among its other possible derivatives, “Aesa” in Old Icelandic meant “to incite war.” How very prophetic. What was she, the Viking Helen of Troy?

A thousand years down the line, Faith had been born with the exact same face as this Viking woman. Heck of a coincidence. She’d been charged to fulfill a mission that Hakon could not: the downfall of some rogue druid sect and their serpent ceremony. Might as well have asked for the Brooklyn Bridge, while he was at it.

Thinking back on Hakon’s first reaction to seeing her, she gave her ribcage a discreet rub. For a ghost, he was awfully good at dealing out bone-crushing hugs. Bleeding, too. That he could touch, and bleed, and at other times disappear without a trace from her senses, made her head spin with questions.

He’s not completely a ghost, she thought, startled. That explained why she couldn’t always hear or feel him. His soul had been trapped on Hvitmar, one foot in this world, and one in the next, because he’d never finished his quest. He’d vowed himself into a half-existence for the love of a woman.

But Aesa had gone on. Why couldn’t Faith sense her here, trying to be with Hakon however she was able?

A frisson flew down her spine. She gripped herself. Oh, my God. She’s me. A strangled whimper escaped her. How could she have failed to make the connection all this time?

Ian’s head snapped up. “What’s the matter?”

Air refused to reach her lungs past the constricted knot in her throat. She felt the blood drain from her face, chilling her further. “I loved him. I cried for him. I’m her. She’s me.”

“Faith, you’re starting to scare me.” Ian gripped her shoulder.

“Hakon’s wife. I’m her, a thousand years later.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Her name was Aesa. She loved him more than anything in the world. I felt it when I saw him.” The depth of passion Aesa and the Viking warrior had felt for one another brought tears to her eyes, even now, in a mere echo. She’d never imagined love like that existed. She fisted a hand on her chest. “I felt it like it was my own emotion.”

Ian started shaking his head. She cut him off before he could deny her words. “You saw her,” she protested. “It’s me! I have to finish this. I was meant to.”

“I hope to God you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying. If you think your sister’s going to let you sacrifi—”

“Ian!” Faith felt the shiver of her eyes flashing into silver. She wrenched his hand from her shoulder and dug her fingers into the coarse denim of his jacket. “If you say one word to her, I swear I will make you regret it. I don’t need you scaring her.” She shoved his hand away. “Hakon said gifted blood. He didn’t say sacrifice. It could take one drop, for all I know.”

Ian bared his teeth. “Or everything you’ve got. Damn it, Faith, this is insane. Even considering it is insane. You don’t know what that ley line will do to you if you try this.”

“You don’t, either. We haven’t got many options. It’s Callander, or Sara, or me.” She blinked again to let her eyes return to their normal color, then gave him a sardonic smirk. “Do you want to walk up to Callander and say, ‘Excuse me, but I know you’re a telekinetic and a murderer. Can I use some of your blood to ruin your chances at absolute power?’”

A muscle worked in Ian’s jaw. He sat back to push a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think Sara needs to know about this? If something happens to you, it’ll kill her.”

The knot in her throat tightened a little more. “You love her, don’t you?”

He looked away then, his expression irritable...but he didn’t deny it. Faith grinned.

She heard the shuffle of footsteps and looked behind her. Sara came toward them with a towel slung over her shoulder. She’d changed into her red bathing suit, with a beach wrap tied around her waist. Faith felt a surge in the air beside her. Another look at Ian confirmed him sitting up straight now, all attention. She smiled again. When he noticed, he glared back with a look that said shut up, which only made her smile wider.

Her good humor vanished when she saw Luis and Flintrop trailing behind her sister. “Great. I was just saying to myself how I needed a raging headache.” She scrubbed at her face, angry now that Alan Flintrop might catch her teary-eyed.

“Yeah. My day didn’t suck enough, either,” Ian agreed, getting to his feet and helping her up. He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and handed it to her.

Sara reached them, beaming. “Found a bone comb.” The exultant smile died on her face when she saw Faith. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Faith marshaled her features into an easygoing expression.

Luis passed them with a quick hello, then plowed straight into the water. Flintrop approached and laid a hand briefly on Sara’s shoulder. “Faith, I take it back. She’s worse than she was in Iceland. I think she’s on auto-pilot.” He took a closer look at Faith. Damn, had he seen the tearstains after all?

Ian shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was making her laugh.”

Faith warmed from the toes up, and officially named Ian her new best friend. He and Flintrop continued to hold each other’s gaze. Mutual dislike hummed in the air.

Time to return the favor. “Alan, I need to talk to you about one of the charts we printed out this afternoon,” she said. “Do you mind if I borrow you for a few minutes?”

He looked at her like she’d just given him a violent shake. She stifled a smug chuckle. Yeah, normally, I wouldn’t volunteer to chat with you, either. That’s because you’re a complete weasel. With her liveliest smile, she beckoned him away and headed off down the beach.

She didn’t really give a damn about the slight rise in electromagnetic readings that the charts had shown that afternoon. It could have been put down to the ley line itself—which she had no intention of pointing out, in any case. She’d have told him to come inspect one of the beach rocks, just for the satisfaction of getting him away from her sister and Ian.

With Flintrop in tow, she sat at the water’s edge on a flat rock. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Ian flash a grin in her direction. He bent his head toward Sara and murmured something that made her giggle. A split second later, she caught the glimmer of annoyance on Flintrop’s face. Go, Ian. She couldn’t suppress a broad smile.

“What are you so happy about?” Flintrop demanded. He plopped beside her on the sand.

“Nothing. About the chart... The electromagnetic readings came back a little on the high side. I wondered if we shouldn’t look into that.”

“I’ll take care of it. Probably just a false reading, or the equipment might need adjustments. Are we having a conversation, here? I was just getting used to your undying hatred.”

Touché, weasel. “Let me make it clear that the only reason I’m at this dig with you is because my firm is in control of it,” she said. “If it were up to me, I’d have scrimped and saved for every penny this project is costing, rather than involve you. Your being here was Lamb’s decision.”

“All right, all right.” He held up his hands.

Faith fumed at the way he laughed, and then at the way she let him annoy her. She caught him glancing over at Ian and Sara again. “What? He’s not at the dig site. You going to commandeer other parts of the island, too?”

Flintrop sighed. “I don’t know how long this is going to go on between you and me, but I’d like to get past it. You and I just didn’t work out together. It’s nothing you did.”

“Careful. That almost sounded like an apology.”

His cobalt stare bored into her. “Are we through?” he asked.

“There is no limit to how ‘through’ we are.”

He stood. She remembered she shouldn’t be antagonizing him, when her goal had been to guarantee Ian and Sara a few minutes free of Flintrop’s interference. She vaulted to her feet. “Don’t go getting into a pissing match with him. He’s got as much right to be here as you have.”

“Birds being more groundbreaking and crucial than a thousand-year-old ruin.”

“Listen to yourself. You’re jealous!”

“Are you?”

“Of you, wanting my sister? You’re just conceited enough to believe that, aren’t you?” She struggled to compose herself, when all she wanted was to punch him repeatedly in the nose for being the biggest jerk in the universe. “You know what? This is ridiculous. We have a job to do, and like it or not, we’re stuck together. After this project, I pray to God I won’t have to work with you ever again.” She shook her head and walked away to join Luis.

****

Ian watched Faith stalk into the water. Flintrop sat back down and withdrew a sheaf of folded papers from his coat pocket. He snapped them open with an aggravated flourish, and began to read. Ian wondered if the bastard had come just to chaperone Sara. “Does he have a talent for pissing people off, or something?”

Sara worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry. I tried to come alone. Luis heard I was coming, and then Flintrop got in on it...”

He took her hand. “I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She blushed and evaded his gaze.

He angled his head. “What? You worried about the watchdog over there?”

“He’s looking,” she protested.

“Good.” Taking her face in his hands, Ian planted a thorough kiss on her lips.

She squeaked as if in surprise, but when he drew back, she beamed, even as her cheeks reddened. “We’re in public.”

“So? When we get home, I plan to do a whole lot of kissing you in public.”

Her mouth opened, but whatever she meant to say gave way to a look that hovered between a smile and underlying anxiousness.

Ian’s stomach lurched with a disappointment that startled him. “You didn’t think this was just a passing thing, did you?” He searched her face. “You did think that.”

“I don’t know what I thought. I’ve been trying not to think past the next few weeks.” She hugged herself, rubbing her arms in spite of the evening’s balmy air.

Ian stuffed his unwelcome dismay into a mental corner. He stroked a hand across the soft curve of Sara’s cheek, then cleared his throat and lowered his hands. Looking her up and down with appreciation, he asked, “Going for a swim, or did you just come to flaunt that bathing suit at me?”

“Are you complaining about my bathing suit?”

Banter. Much better than that anxious look. He waved a finger between them. “I’ve come to realize, the less clothing separating the two of us, the better I like it.”

She blushed, and he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to the nearest secluded spot. She glanced furtively around, looking like a teenager who’d been caught staying out too late. “I’m going to swim now.”

He groaned. “You are flaunting it.”

She smiled again, untied her wrap, then handed it to him with a sly smile. “Now I’m flaunting. See you in a bit.” She strolled off to the water.

Ian allowed himself a pleasant view of swaying hips as she walked across the uneven sand.

A shadow fell over him. He looked up.

Flintrop gave him a cold blue stare as he passed on his way back toward the camp. “Don’t get too used to it, Waverly.” He sauntered away before Ian could reply.

The rest of the evening went well enough, though Ian wished he’d carried Sara off, after all. By the time he got back to his camp, he couldn’t think straight for wanting her. The erstwhile cold bath of the inlet had done nothing to alleviate that. He stayed up most of the night writing in his journal, though none of the entry mentioned a stitch of his wildlife research.

Faith had asked him flat out if he loved her sister.

God, yes. Since he was ten. Even when he didn’t want to.

But then Sara had given him that look. Did she think this thing—this whatever-it-was between them—was temporary?

That thought bothered him almost as much as the gathering apprehension whenever he thought of the amulet around her neck.

****

The next week and a half went by in a blur of full-speed work. Ian spent his days on the cliffside. During the nights, Sara came to his camp, and they made love. Always passionate, always intense, and over far too soon. Each time, she stole away well before the sun rose. And each time, something stopped him from confessing the way he felt about her. He sensed an uneasiness in her, but put it off to the looming dig deadline.

This morning, he’d started climbing early and spent most of the day on the rock. Halfway down the cliff, he thrust his fingers into a handhold and angled sideways on his rope. A flock of terns rested on a craggy outcrop below, jabbering amongst themselves. He took a rough visual count of the flock and raised his camera, focusing the lens, aiming, and shooting the photo without conscious thought.

Horus soared by, chirping in what Ian had come to understand as his greeting. “Hey, hotshot, can I borrow those wings?” Smiling, Ian edged the instep of one foot onto a thin crease of rock for a moment of rest.

Then he saw the second falcon.

For a moment, he wondered if Sara had paid him a visit, but Horus shot past him again with a drawn-out wail and rose into a dizzying spiral. The two birds whirled around one another. Ian recognized a courtship flight. His mouth fell open as he followed the roller coaster circling of the larger bird.

Definitely not Sara, by the way Horus was reacting.

Grinning, he raised the camera around his neck and hurried to focus. “Sweetheart, I think you just got me my tenure.” He snapped a rapid series of photos, running the battery almost all the way down before the birds circled away together. He started back up the cliff, eager to get his observations down on paper.

He had to tell Sara.

When had thinking of her become such second nature?

He gave a soft laugh. Since forever, really.

His memory spun back twenty years to the first time he saw her. Shaking, her eyes a startling grass-green, she’d braced herself against the oncoming punch of a boy almost twice her size. Ian recalled a bright flash of anger and his blood surging in his ears. He’d been about to jump between them when the bell rang, and the teachers came to herd them all back from the playground into the school.

Those eyes had burned right down inside of him. After twenty years, in spite of all that had happened since then, they still did. He suspected, twenty years from now, they still would. If we ever get the chance to find out, he thought, grimly returning to the present.

A fitful burst of wind rocked him in his harness, reminding him that he’d better get topside. With the breeze picking up like this, he expected another storm to follow on its heels in the next day or so. He climbed back up the cliff, feeling out each crevice before continuing the push upward. Birds scolded him from their niches in the rock far below. The wind gusted up the cliffside, smacking against his body.

He had just gained the edge when a shadow blotted out the sunlight overhead. Ian swore and slid downward a few feet. He gripped harder on the rope, wincing against the burn, and jammed the toes of one shoe in a foothold. He jerked to a halt with pebbles rattling their way down the cliffside, and looked up.

The shadowy figure bent down out of the sun glare. Ian recognized Luis. “Need a hand, greenhorn?” the man asked, then laughed.

“Jesus, Lu. Could you not do that when I’m dangling from a two-hundred-foot cliff?” Ian hauled on the rope, regained the last few feet, then reached for his friend’s hand.

Luis pulled him upward over the cliff edge. Ian unbuckled his harness and started winding the rope. “What’s up?”

“I just came up to say hello.”

“How about a hello and a beer? It’s damn hot down there with the sun pounding on the rock,” Ian said, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead.

“Lead the way, amigo.”

They headed toward Ian’s tent. Freshly armed with a cold six-pack, they sat in a pair of camp chairs outside. Ian propped his feet on an empty crate. “I was just hurting for a break. You came along at the right time, buddy.”

Luis beamed, and they clinked bottles. Time stretched out while they settled into the wordless male communion of sunshine, the outdoors, and fermented beverages.

Luis swept a look around Ian’s camp. Some crates had already been packed for shipment home, and covered with a tarp. “It looks like you’re going to be done around here pretty soon.”

“Yeah, another few weeks, maybe. Got most of the data, and about a thousand photos.”

Luis gave him a broad smile. “So, you and Shark Markham, huh?”

“Me and Sara.”

“All right, all right. She’s not so bad, I guess. At least she pulls her weight on a project. She was in a good mood this morning, so I figure she must have gotten an hour of sleep instead of the usual half.”

Ian wondered if they knew about her sneaking out to see him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’d rather work than eat. She’s going to wear out before we finish, unless she’s part machine.” Luis set the heel of one work boot on the crate.

Ian picked at the label on his beer bottle. “How are things going down there?”

“We’ve almost got the perimeter dug out, and we’ve started on the interior. You need some peat bricks for a campfire, you know where to find them.”

Ian flashed a quick, preoccupied smile. A little over one week to go. He itched to do more than sit up here waiting. He kept his gaze on his beer bottle, peeling its label back bit by bit. “I guess you guys are ahead of schedule, seeing you were planning for this to take all summer.”

“Yeah. Lambertson is going to be late coming back, but I think we’re going to finish without him.” Luis drained the rest of his beer, and stood up. “That is, if I get back down there and help, instead of sitting around up here with layabouts like you.”

“It’s a dirty job. See you.” Ian waved his friend off, then went reluctantly back to work.