The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,25
if we could communicate with them?”
“What do you expect me to do, start a road show?”
“Sara, this could change science as we know it.”
“I can’t tell anyone!” she protested. “If people find out I can do these things, what do you think is going to happen to me?”
He watched her a few seconds more. Her shoulders arched as if she expected an attack. Her fingers, clasped on her knees until the knuckles were white, shifted once, twice, three times. He realized then that her fear lay not in his knowledge of her abilities, but that he would expose her to others.
Would I?
For a frightening second, he thought he might. Her very existence made her dangerous. And valuable, to the right people.
She looked away, rubbing her arms. When she met his stare again, her eyes had changed back to hazel, wide and intent. He knew she was wondering what he’d do, now that he’d heard her secret. And he knew he couldn’t betray her, no matter what she was.
But he could learn about her. “I’ll make you a deal.”
She jerked in her seat and pursed her lips as if she were trying to bite back words. For a moment, there was only the sound of water lapping against the boat.
Hardly able to believe his own mouth was forming the statement, he added, “You help me with my birds, and I say nothing about any of this.”
“Are you serious?”
He tossed her the boat keys and cursed his own madness. “Let’s just get off the water.”
****
They arrived back at Ian’s camp by midday. He entered the tent ahead of her. Dropping her coat, he grabbed a flannel shirt lying rumpled at the foot of his bed.
Sara caught sight of several long, faint scars criss-crossing his back. Lean muscle rippled under the damaged skin. She drew in a breath, but couldn’t stop staring.
He pulled the shirt over his shoulders and turned around. He stiffened as their gazes met. She felt the blood drain from her face.
Hostility flickered in his expression, then vanished into resignation. “Don’t ask.”
“How do you expect me to trust you if you get to ask all the questions?”
He shoved his hand into his pocket, then came out with the amulet and demanded, “What is this thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. You’re getting shot for it, and you don’t know what it is.”
“That’s right. Can I have it back now?”
He came forward and handed it to her. She took it and looped it over her head, then tucked it into her shirt.
“If you have no idea what it is, why do you hide it?” he asked.
“You tell me about those scars on your back, and I’ll tell you what I know about this necklace.”
He opened the first-aid kit on his table. “Sit down.”
Stalking to his cot, she flopped on the edge and began pulling at the strips of cloth over her wound.
“I’ll get it,” he said, sitting beside her and putting the open kit at his feet. He slid the point of a pair of scissors under the makeshift bandages and cut them away.
She gave a nervous chuckle. “Next injury’s your turn.” When he didn’t respond, she fell silent and watched him work. At last she added, “Tell me about your back.”
“Tell me about your necklace.”
“I asked you first.”
“Are we doing the grade-school thing now?” He gave her a brief look of amusement that washed away the serious look on his face and set her belly fluttering, at complete odds with her apprehension. When he applied antiseptic to her wound, she cringed at the sting.
He jerked his hand away, but she couldn’t tell whether he was still leery of her, or sorry he’d hurt her. “Fine,” she said irritably. “We think Dad was murdered for this necklace. We don’t—”
“‘We,’ meaning you and Faith.”
“Yes. Can I finish, since you want to know so badly?”
He went back to applying the antiseptic. “Go on.”
She suspected it was easier for him to look at her injury than meet her gaze. That stung more than the wound. “We don’t know what it is, and we don’t know what it does. It’s old. It’s important enough to kill someone over. It’s a stupid piece of rock, and I want my father back.”
Ian picked up the first-aid kit and set it on his knees. He looked at her at last. Something dark and heart-rending flashed in his eyes and was gone before she could interpret it. He shrugged his good shoulder. “Why fix the thing, if you don’t know