The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,31
help.
“Ian. What’s on your mind?”
“I thought you could read minds.”
“I can. I choose not to. It’s invasion of privacy.” She waded closer and sank neck-deep.
Good thing she felt that way, because the direction of his thoughts might have earned him jail time. Below the water’s surface, he saw the glint of gold in her repaired necklace. The stone pendant rested just above the curve of her breasts, onyx-black against her opaline skin. He warred with himself, aching to kiss her, longing to retreat.
She backed away and dipped to her chin. Her hair swirled on the water, dark and slick as sealskin. “What’s so important about this falcon of yours?”
Good, a safe topic. “Aside from being an endangered species? I’m hoping for a breeding pair.”
“Was there another?”
“Just the one. If he has a mate, I haven’t seen her yet.”
Breeding? Mate? Okay, maybe not so safe a topic. His body agreed in the most painful way possible. Should have gone with the ugly shorts, he thought, wishing he could loosen the fit of his jeans without being obvious.
“So the falcon is why you haven’t left for Mainland?”
Yes. No. “Partly.” Frustrated, he dove underwater for some distance. He waded back up the inlet until the water level dropped to his waist, and began stretching out his shoulder.
“Does it hurt much? I can’t see how digging all day has helped it,” she said.
“It’s all right. Better than it’s been. I’m off the painkillers, at least.”
He heard water slosh. He looked around and confirmed that she’d submerged.
She surfaced right in front of him. “Will you tell me something?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
“When that man attacked your family...”
He angled a look at her. She wouldn’t meet it. “Say whatever you’re not saying,” he prompted.
She took a breath. “Did his eyes change color the way mine do?”
He stopped working his shoulder and frowned. “I don’t remember.”
She knew he was lying; he saw it on her face. He remembered like it had just happened. One moment, the man’s eyes had been nondescript brown, and the next...
Then came the knife. Then his father’s grunt of shock, and the thud as he crumpled to the floor.
Days earlier, Ian had seen someone else call an object across thin air. A tiny waif of a girl, and her eyes had changed, too. After his father’s death, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her.
Until now.
Sara’s lips parted. “Did he...? How did he...?”
Her gaze flicked away and back like an indecisive dragonfly. Ian saw how much she yearned to ask the questions he didn’t want to answer. He steeled himself. “You want to know how much like you he was.”
“Never mind,” she said, too fast. She turned and started to wade off.
He caught her by the hand. “Gold.” He let go, and wished he hadn’t. “Just before it happened. They were gold.”
She crouched in the water. Ian, still standing, tried not to think about how close she was to his groin. He flew through a mental recital of the Latin name for every bird he could think of. When that didn’t work, he sat down in the shallows beside her, shifting furtively to ease the tightness in his pants, and the conflicting tension in his neck.
“He did the same thing you did,” Ian said at last. “With your necklace, as a kid. Raised his hand and—” He reached into the air and waved his fingers.
“It’s not the same,” she said at once. “I’m not the same.”
He dunked his head backward, washing off the rest of the sweat. Saltwater trickled stinging into his eyes, and he wiped it away. For a time, they both fell silent.
“My sister has pyrokinesis, among other things,” she said at last. “Fires, she can light fires. She could be dangerous, but she’s not. We’ve never hurt another person in our lives.”
“And your father?”
“I never saw him do anything like what Faith and I can do,” she said. “But he was a good man. A good father.”
“So was mine.”
Bird cries sounded in the air over the surging of ocean on rock. Ian looked up. A flock of gulls passed overhead. Reminded of his work, he got to his feet once more. “We should go.” He offered his hand to help her up.
She took it, but released it again as soon as she’d gained her feet. Wet tendrils of her hair settled in the hollow between her breasts. Ian gritted his teeth. Elanoides forficatus, Buteo jamaicensis, Pandion haliaetus. He spun away, then stalked out of the water after his shirt and jacket.