The Serpent in the Stone

CHAPTER Three

Ian fumed during the entire slog back up to his camp. Fat raindrops pummeled his body like handfuls of dropped pebbles. He wiped a hand across his face, slicking away the rainwater, but it didn’t erase the taste of her. “F*ck!” The gusting wind whipped his curse away. “I’m out of here. I should have gone to Mainland in the first place, instead of asking for this middle-of-nowhere post with some insane—”

Thunder crashed overhead. “Whatever!” he shouted—at the storm, at Sara, it didn’t matter which. “I’ve had enough of this stupid circus. Keep your goddamn nightmares, keep your flying necklaces, keep me out of it. Should have forgotten all this shit a long time ago.”

He reached his tent and ripped open the flap. The storm followed him inside. Wind and rain swirled around, blowing papers off his table and into the corner. With cold-numbed fingers, he fought the tent zipper and managed to pull it closed. He wrestled out of his wet sling, furious that he couldn’t just rip it off without hurting his shoulder.

More furious still, that part of him wanted to march all the way back down there and finish kissing her. He gave an incoherent roar and flung his jacket and sodden shirt on the back of a chair.

Shirtless and soaked, he stood in the middle of his tent. He thrust his good hand through his hair, sending a shower of droplets onto the floor. For a satisfying minute, he thought about nothing at all.

Then he remembered her moan when he’d nipped at her neck. The smell of her. The taste, too. Cinnamon, that was it. Whatever she’d had between dinner and that beer, he wanted to drown in it.

He cursed again and snatched a towel from the foot of his bed, then scrubbed it through his hair. His injured shoulder throbbed. He swallowed a couple of painkillers without water. Lightning flashed, illuminating the interior for an instant. He lit a lantern, then flopped onto his cot.

Instead of seeing the roof of his tent, he saw her face, her parted lips, the way her eyes begged him to touch her.

He snatched his journal off the bedside table and opened it to write something, anything. A blank page stared him in the face. He let the pencil hover over the paper for a few minutes. When that didn’t work, he flipped the switch of the small radio sitting on the table. Most of the channels brought static. The one clear station played some weird thing with bagpipes. He sighed, turned it off, then set the tip of the pencil to the page. What the hell had she done to him? Was this part of what she was?

Or was it just that he’d wanted so badly to bury himself inside her that he’d forgotten everything he knew about her?

I can’t deal with this, the pencil scribbled out. Not now, not her.

Another minute passed.

She saved my life. I know it was her. How the hell else did I end up back on solid ground? That wolf, somehow it was Sara. Green eyes, for God’s sake.

And telekinesis.

He hissed and hurled the pencil across the tent. It clattered into an open crate. Coming to Shetland had been the worst idea of his life.

The past should damn well stay buried.

****

Sara woke with a start to the rising morning light. Ian’s kiss had resonated through her dreams, bringing restless flashes of rasping stubble against her heated skin. She shivered in the bitter air and sat up, pressing her fingers to her lips as if she could still feel him.

So. He knew. What would he do about it?

Nothing good, judging from the way he’d flown out of her tent. It had taken her a few moments to realize her eyes must have changed again. Caught up in the kiss, she hadn’t even felt it happen. When she tried to go after him, confront him, Dustin had stopped her with some maddening, trivial thing about soil compositions. She’d been forced to stay at the camp and deal with it, all the while casting furtive looks up the slope of the island.

The night storm had blown over. The roar of wind had faded to a periodic whooshing around the edges of the tent. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot—

—and froze.

The tent door hung partly open, its corner flapping in the breeze. She knew she’d shut that last night. She went to it and peered out. A glance down revealed no tracks on the ground. That proved nothing; they might have been washed away by the rain. She zipped the door shut, then hurried into a warm change of clothes.

The amulet. Ian knew about that, too. She touched a hand to her throat; the stone disk was tucked safely under her shirt. She pulled it out and examined it, a thin, discus-like object less than five centimeters across. Each side bore the same worn carving: a serpent winding in and out of a Celtic knot, then circling back to swallow its own tail. A small oval depression lay in the center of the discus on either side.

She traced a finger along the center depressions, as she’d done maybe a hundred times since finding it among her father’s possessions. “Something’s missing, Dad,” she murmured, noting the sharp edges where the centerpieces had been pried loose. “But what?”

One hour and five reference books later, she had gained no insight into the amulet’s origins. She couldn’t bring herself to draw or catalogue it, as she would any other artifact. With her books exhausted, she turned to the Internet. She opened the browser on her laptop and began the arduous task of sifting through innumerable Web sites on Celtic lore. “Come on. One mention, that’s all I want. Give me something to work with,” she pleaded.

Footsteps sounded outside her tent. “Sara?”

Ian.

A chill rushed through her. She wondered if she could bluff her way out of what had happened between them last night.

Confidence, she reminded herself. One slip, and he’d pounce. Closing her laptop with a snap, she said, “I’m here. Come in.”

He unzipped the tent door and stepped inside, lowering a knapsack from his good shoulder. His gaze roved about the tent with an expression of deadpan calm, then landed at last on her. “I just wanted to tell you—”

She sat up straight and matched his deadpan look.

“—I’m leaving.”

Dismay warred with relief. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” he added. “Changing my post. I’m going to Mainland first thing tomorrow.”

She stood up. “Why?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He shifted and skimmed her tent with a look before bringing his attention back to her, as if he had to make himself do so. “You’ve got things you don’t want to tell me. Things I don’t want to know, and probably shouldn’t.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t. The words hovered on the tip of her tongue. Do you know what I am?

He crossed the tent to stand in front of her, looking caught between reluctance and determination. “I’m sorry for last night. For the kiss.”

Her heart began thumping faster. “Oh.” I don’t think I am, she wanted to say. Even now, she had to work to keep from moving toward him.

He shouldered the knapsack again. “Anyway, I’ve got a favor to ask you. Will you show me where those seals are before I go? I want something from here to take back with me, for the college.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Is now a bad time?”

“No one’s going to be up for another half hour, at least. I can take you.”

By the time they reached the rocky northwestern shore, the sun had just begun its ascent, painting the sky in stained-glass hues. They walked down to the beach. Safe topics, she thought. Stick to the animals. “I’m not sure any will be here,” she said. “I only saw the one yesterday.”

“There’s probably more. They tend to have favorite spots where the fishing’s good.”

That piqued her interest. “Will there be pups?”

“Not likely, this time of year.”

“I minored in zoology in college. Never studied seals,” she said.

Why was she sharing anything about herself with him? He didn’t care. She didn’t want him to know. He was leaving, and she should thank God for it. She pointed to a large cluster of rocks jutting from the surf offshore. “That’s it.”

Ian crouched low and pressed a hand to her shoulder, urging her down beside him. The touch resounded through her body. She knelt, watching him, but his gaze had fixed on the rocks while he listened.

“I hear them,” he murmured. He crept away, beckoning her with a silent wave.

They moved stealthily around the edge of the beach, until at last the seals came into view. Five of them lazed about on the rocks, barking in irritation when one tried to usurp the best spot from another. “I didn’t realize they were so big,” she said. “That one in front is huge.”

He leaned toward her to whisper, “That’s a bull. These are gray seals. The bulls can reach about five hundred pounds.” He set his knapsack down, then pulled out a camera.

She watched him take several photos, one-handed, with a long lens. He set the camera down to pull out a small leather journal. Balancing it on his knee, he made neat, quick notes. He worked with the same efficiency and self-confidence she felt when studying a new artifact. Recognizing a professional in his comfort zone, she couldn’t help smiling.

He caught her looking and frowned. “What?”

She sobered at once. “Nothing.” Being around him was beginning to unravel her. She almost wished last night had never happened.

No. She did wish last night had never happened. Did. Firmly.

Almost, she thought, looking at his mouth.

He put his journal and camera back in the knapsack. “I think I’m all set here. Thanks for showing me where they were. We can stand up now.” He rose to his feet, then shouldered the pack and began to move back the way they had come.

She stood and dusted off her pants. Her heartbeat stumbled. How much did he know? She couldn’t stand it anymore. She took a long, full breath. “Ian?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Don’t. Please? Just don’t.”

The pain in those few syllables pulled at her. What is it? she wanted to ask, but she bit her lip and followed him back to the camp without another word.

When they reached her tent again, she hesitated outside. “So...tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need help getting any of your stuff together?”

“No. I have a guy coming from Unst.”

She stared at his boots for a second. “Well, why don’t we make you dinner tonight? That way, you can pack your mess kit.”

He stiffened, but his gaze remained cool and unaffected, light years from that look last night. “Sure.”

“Okay. See you then.”

He nodded and turned to leave. She watched him go with a knot in her throat, wondering why she wasn’t happier.

When he had left, she ducked into her tent. Her research waited at her camp table. She sighed and sat down, but her body yearned to get back up and rush out of the tent after him.

How could he leave now, after a kiss like that? Kisses like that didn’t exist.

She seized the first book and flung it open, thrusting her thoughts as far from him as possible. Words swam on the page, impossible to shepherd into sense. What did he know? What would he say? Who would he tell?

She managed after a while, and only due to years of practice, to shut off her internal chatter and get to work. After a morning of fruitless searching for information about the amulet, she joined the rest of the crew at the dig. The work engrossed her so fully that she barely noticed the shadows lengthening across the ground. By then, she couldn’t stand herself. “If I don’t get a real bath before dinner, I’m going to go out of my mind,” she grumbled to her sister. “A camp shower just isn’t going to cut it today.”

“I feel like I ought to soak in bleach, or I’ll never get this grime out,” agreed Faith.

Sara glanced around the site. Dustin and Thomas were still working. She moved close to her sister’s ear. “When I went exploring yesterday morning, I ran across an inlet on the western side of the island. I’m going to go for a swim. I’ll show you where it is.”

“I’ll settle for the camp shower tonight, but that might come in handy tomorrow. Be back by dinner. Is Ian still coming?”

She tried to sound casual. “As far as I know.”

“Sara.” Faith gave her an unnerving Don’t-bullshit-me look.

“I’m fine. I told you, he’s leaving anyway. I’ll see you in a bit.” She headed to her tent.

She gathered a towel and change of clothes, then set off toward the inlet. By the time she reached it, there were only a couple of hours left before dusk. Time enough for a quick bath.

Setting her change of clothes on the high rocks near the water’s edge, she stripped naked, leaving only the necklaces hanging around her neck. The breeze was balmy on her skin; thank God it had warmed up over the course of the day.

Looking at gold-washed ripples, she debated shapeshifting into a seal or some other seagoing creature. The water at this time of year would still be chilly, and a human body wasn’t insulated for cold ocean swimming. She didn’t know much about seals, except what she’d learned that morning from Ian. What little she knew wouldn’t be enough to sustain a shapeshift for more than a few seconds. Shark Markham, indeed. She scanned the water again. “It’s either this, or the camp shower.”

That decided matters. She went down to the water. Gravel gave way to fine granite that shifted under her stride, sandpapery and pleasant on the soles of her feet. The cold as she splashed into the inlet drove the air from her lungs. How much insulation did those seals, have, exactly? She hunched down into the water.

After a while, her body seemed to adapt, and the water felt warmer than she’d first thought. She swam a couple of laps, then dove under the waves. Grabbing a handful of granite sand from the bottom of the inlet, she scrubbed it over her skin until it glowed. The cool water glided along her skin as she swam, a welcome change from the heat and sweat of her workday. Not only that, but it had begun to wash away all the other things on her mind. Letting herself relax for the first time since finding the amulet, she stretched out to meet the sensual wash of current flowing over her body.

She came up in the middle of the inlet and swept her hair back. The distant calls of seabirds mingled with the lessening shush of waves against rock. The tide had begun calming for the night. She supposed she’d better rinse out her grubby clothing as well, before the sunset caught her still out in the water.

When she looked back toward shore, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature.

Her clothes and towel had been moved.

She remembered leaving them on the first rock, a rounded boulder sitting where the shoreline dropped away. They now sat on the ground beside the rock in a jumbled heap. Sara ducked lower into the water, scanning the beach. “Faith?”

No one answered. “Stop kidding around,” she called, expecting her sister to jump out from behind one of the high rocks. Again, nothing happened.

As she realized what her unseen stalker had been searching for, her breath came faster. She checked; the amulet still hung safely around her neck beside her locket. She swam to shore, got out, then began walking toward her pile of clothes.

She’d only made it partway up the beach when she caught the crunch of footsteps on gravel behind her. She spun around, only to halt where she stood.

Ian rounded a clutch of boulders at the opposite end of the beach, carrying a towel. He glanced up from the ground and stopped dead, looking poleaxed. His breath came out in a long, loud whoosh.

Her heartbeat charged through her chest like a steam train. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Words bottlenecked in her throat.

He closed his mouth. His stare heated and traveled over her naked body.

Fire coursed through her veins, eclipsing the cool water running in rivulets down her back. The primal instinct to answer that look in his eyes sent a wave of chills rippling across her skin.

He took a step, then halted. She saw his hand clench on the towel, and then he tossed it into the air toward her.

She caught it and flung it around herself. Shaking, she spun away, then bent to scrape up her clothes.

Gravel crunched again. Closer, and closer yet. “Sara,” he said, sounding strangled.

She shot to her feet and gripped the towel tighter, panting around the fierce thudding of her heart. She didn’t turn to face him.

“Get out of here, and do it quick.”

She ran.

****

Sara stopped only when she knew she’d put enough distance between them. Even then, she paused just long enough to jerk her pants on and thrust her head and arms through her sweater. She arrived out of breath at the campsite. Dustin called her to dinner. He and Thomas had started a fire and begun laying out everyone’s dishes. “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she puffed, going straight to her tent.

Inside, she felt a little safer. She only wished her mind would tell her body to calm down, as well.

“Sara?” Faith ducked her head into the tent.

“I’m here.”

Faith entered. “Have you seen my journal? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“No.” Distracted, Sara swept a glance around her tent, then shuffled a couple of books on her table. “Did you leave it with me for some reason?”

Faith shook her head. “It was in my trunk this morning. I checked my whole tent. Sara...it had stuff about the necklace in it.”

Her blood iced over. “You wrote it down?”

“Shhh!” Faith held up her hands.

Fresh waves of trembling flooded Sara’s body. Her worst nightmares rushed back with terrifying clarity. “We should never have taken it from the safe box. Someone went through my clothes while I was swimming. I’ll give you one guess what they might have been looking for.” She lowered herself into a chair, then ran a hand through her damp hair.

Faith mimicked the motion and sat in the table’s other seat. She cast a quick, suspicious glance at the tent doorway. “Did you see anyone?”

“Ian showed up. A little too conveniently timed.” She braced her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands, masking both her agitation and the blush she felt burning in her cheeks.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing the amulet.”

“The hell I shouldn’t. I’m afraid to let it out of my sight. We don’t even know what it is, yet. I’ve looked. I can’t find anything.”

Faith reached out a hand. “Give me it. I’ll just read the damned thing with my gift.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Faith. What if—”

“What if, while we’re trying to figure the stupid thing out, someone comes and murders you in your sleep? Let me worry about what I see or don’t see. If someone is after this thing, I’d just as soon know what we’re protecting. I’ve looked too, and we’re not getting anywhere the easy way.”

Sara pursed her lips and removed the amulet from her neck. “Do you think Ian might be the one—”

“Ian wasn’t even there to break into our house.”

“Well, there are only five of us on this island!” Sara lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “He knows what I am, or at least he knows enough to make me worry.”

Her sister reached for the necklace. “Just give it here,” she said, “and let’s get this over with.”

Sara handed it over with reluctance.

Taking a deep breath, Faith called on her psychic sense. Her eyes melted into silver, and fixed on the amulet. She grew still and silent.

Sara waited. Five minutes passed, and Faith did not rouse from her trance.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Anxious now, Sara leaned forward and touched her sister’s arm. “Faith, wake up.”

Faith shook and blinked awake, looking confused. “A man,” she said. “Not Dad. Not a Celt, either. I’m not sure what he was. Everything was indistinct.”

“What did he do? Did he say anything?”

“He had a sword. I saw him kill another man in white robes and take the amulet. He held it up and said something, I don’t even know what. The necklace started spinning, and these lines of light shot out from it along the ground, and then he screamed...” Faith shuddered and looked down at the amulet in her hand. “This thing has blood on it, Sara. Lots of it, I feel it. I think we should destroy it.”

Sara’s body hummed with agitation. “What happened?”

“It killed him. He fell, and the necklace fell, and I saw his spirit rise from his body and just vanish into the lines of light. We need to smash the thing.” She rose from her seat.

Sara jerked to her feet as well. “Dad gave it to us on purpose, or he would have destroyed it himself!”

Faith hesitated. “Maybe he didn’t have time, once he found out what it was. Before he was—”

“We still don’t know what it is,” interrupted Sara. She paced the length of her tent. “Did you see anything else?”

Muscles worked in her sister’s jaw. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I saw what’s missing. The pieces on either side in the center of the necklace. Oval inlays.” She touched her locket. “One gold.” She gestured at Sara’s throat. “The other silver.”

Open-mouthed, Sara touched her locket. She unfastened it with shaking fingers. “We have to melt these down. They belong in the amulet.”

“Are you nuts?” Faith strode forward until she was toe to toe with Sara. “Dad took them out for a reason. He wanted to disable the amulet. It’s dangerous. You know it is.”

Sara shook her head. “He would have smashed it himself. I’m sure of it, Faith. I think he wanted us to do something with it.”

“Like what, get killed?” Faith slapped the amulet on the table and snatched an empty glass bottle. She raised it to strike.

“No!” Sara shouted, jumping toward her.

Faith brought the bottle down on the amulet with a crash. The bottle shattered, and a deafening chime reverberated off the tent walls. Both of them cringed and covered their ears until the sound faded away.

Faith clutched her now-bleeding hand and looked at the amulet, resting intact on Sara’s table. She bit off a moan and held her hand against her body. “Smashing it is out,” she snarled.

Sara snatched the amulet up, then looped it over her head and tucked it quickly into her sweater. The stone pulsed with heat against her skin.

Thomas ducked into the tent. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Sara answered. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Thomas passed her an unconvinced look, but left again.

When she was certain of their privacy, Sara reached her hand out to her sister. “Give me your locket.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

Sara stepped toward the tent door. “Do you want to figure this out, or not? Give me the locket. We’ll go to Mainland and get them put back in the amulet tomorrow morning.”

Faith grabbed Sara’s first-aid kit and dropped it on the table. She flung it open to rummage for bandages and antiseptic. “Sure. We’re just going to walk in there with this knick-knack, which no one is going to get curious about and ask questions about, and come looking for. Not to mention, I don’t think we should leave the dig site.”

“Fine. You stay with the dig. I’ll go to Mainland myself. Just give me the locket.”

Faith frowned and finished wrapping her hand with disgruntled motions. She grasped her locket and jerked. The chain snapped. She dropped the locket into Sara’s palm. “Take Ian with you.”

“What about Dustin or Thomas?”

“Ian,” Faith repeated flatly.

“You don’t trust them, do you?”

Faith closed up the kit and put it back in its place. She went to the tent door and paused, pursing her lips. “At this point, I don’t trust much of anyone. Ian’s the least of my worries, especially if he’s leaving.” She stepped out of the tent.

Most of the time, Sara trusted her sister’s intuition with her life.

This time, she feared she might regret it.