The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,38
certain times, or when you do certain things.”
Ian seemed to absorb that for a moment. “What about my tent?”
Sara stared at him in surprise. No demand for explanations about ghosts? No protest that the possibility was insane?
“You might want to move it,” said Faith. “Supposedly, being on a ley line can make you see things. You can have nightmares. The ghosts can mess with you. Did you see my sister walk a ley line?”
Ian rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what I saw. It was enough to send me flying down here in the middle of the night, thinking it was real.”
“Well, what happened?” Sara demanded.
His look arrowed through her.
“It killed her, didn’t it?” Faith murmured. “The amulet. Like the vision, Sara.”
Ian remained silent, but his face spoke volumes. Sara swallowed the knot in her throat. As familiar as she was with paranormal gifts, even she found herself doubtful about Faith’s discovery. Why did Ian accept it so readily? She fingered the ridges of the amulet.
Faith labored to her feet. “The ley lines, then. The amulet has something to do with them. Sara, where’s your copy of Beardsley’s Compendium?”
“H-Home, I think.” Sara faltered, trying to sort out her conflicting emotions.
“Never mind. Mine’s in my trunk.” Faith strode to the tent doorway.
Alarmed, Sara moved to stop her. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be all right.” Faith ducked out the tent door. “The line is fading. I can get through it now. What time is it?”
“After one, I think,” replied Sara.
Faith sighed. “Beltane is officially past. My new least favorite pagan holiday. Happy Spring, guys. I’m going to try to get some rest before sunup.” With that, she left.
Sara hovered at the doorway watching her sister go, trembling when Faith approached the dig. She heard Ian come up behind her, but her gaze remained on the tall blond form marching away across the moor. Not until Faith had almost reached her own tent did Sara turn away. She heaved a shuddering breath. Now that the immediate danger was past, she felt as weak as if she’d drained her gifts.
Ian’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”
She strained to compose herself and stared at the amulet in her hand. “She was right. I should have found a way to destroy this thing.” Mechanically, she tied the broken lace back together, then looped the amulet over her head. “Now, I can’t let it out of my sight. Maybe my father was right to have it dismantled. Thank you...for saving my life.”
He cast a doubtful glance out the door, then his features softened. “I’m not sure I did, but you’re welcome. I don’t know how much of this to believe, even when I’ve got proof, Sara. I just didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
She tucked the amulet under her shirt, uncertain what to do with that look in his eyes, less certain where they stood now. “You should probably move your tent.”
“Probably.”
“But you’re not going to.”
Ian shook his head.
“Why not? You heard what Faith said.”
He touched her cheek. “You sure you’re all right?”
The unexpected contact of his skin against hers drove any further questioning out of her head. She closed her eyes, willing the touch to mean more than a simple expression of concern. A lick of flame raced across her skin, so strong she knew he must feel it. “I’m fine.”
He turned to go.
She took a quick step toward him. “Ian?”
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
Sara’s heartbeat slammed against her ribs. The word stay caught in her throat. She opened her mouth and hesitated. “Be careful.”
He smiled and left the tent. Her breath rushed out.
****
The next afternoon, Ian sat near the cliff edge with a pair of binoculars and his journal. The falcon circled in the air overhead. Its presence had scared off some of the other birds. Ian couldn’t bring himself to care that day.
He knew he should have been working, but the salt air and sunshine lulled him away from his assignment. He set his journal down. Lying back in the short, windswept grass, he tucked his arms under his head. Cottony clouds rolled across the sky in stately procession. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift.
They went right to Sara. Since he’d come upon her naked at the inlet, not a day had gone by that he hadn’t conjured that image in his mind. He almost regretted tossing her the towel so she could cover that beautiful body. If he hadn’t...