The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,74
is just crazy. In three weeks Callander, or whoever else, could do anything to us and make it look like an accident. All the while, we’re helping him excavate the dig and get closer to opening the ley lines.”
“That’s if they even know where the amulet is in the first place,” said Sara.
“Either you’re coming to stay with me,” Ian said, “or I’ll stay down here.”
“I’m not leaving my sister,” she said.
“Then I’ll stay.”
Sara knew he meant to guard her, but even weakened, her body responded as though he’d offered her seduction. She couldn’t halt the images of their night together flitting through her mind.
Faith pushed aside the glasses and binoculars on her table. The large sheet of graph paper lying there rolled up of its own accord. “Bad idea. Flintrop’s gunning for you as it is, and he’s not the kind of guy who puts up with people he doesn’t like. I know how he is, I dated him.”
Ian snorted. “Why?”
Faith threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. It didn’t work out. A few months later, he dumped me for no particular reason, and acted like we’d never—” She broke off and cleared her throat. “Is this need-to-know, or can we get back to the big problem?”
“Fine.” Ian looked back down at Sara. “I’ll walk you to your tent.”
She nodded, and they started together toward the door.
Faith snatched up the graph paper and crumpled it into one fist. In a flash of silver eyes and a burst of flame, the map withered to ashes in her hand.
Ian tensed, quick as reflex. Sara pushed him out the door ahead of her.
On the way to her tent, she asked, “What was all that about back there? Why were you two arguing?”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Does she do that a lot?” He made a flicking motion with his hand, imitating Faith’s burst of flame.
“Often enough.” She cast a look around camp, but no one was outside at the moment. They entered her tent. “She’s right about Flintrop.”
He slid his arms around her. “I couldn’t care less about Flintrop. Do you want me to stay?”
Oh, yes. Her body vibrated with it. “You shouldn’t.”
His lips trailed along her cheek. Heat sizzled from his touch into her skin. He molded his body to hers and kissed her, swallowing her moan. The rigidness of his growing arousal pressed against her abdomen.
Her head spun, but it had nothing to do with fever. “Please,” she whispered, not knowing if she meant him to stop, or to keep going.
He kissed his way down the side of her neck. “I worried about you last night,” he said, his breath warming her ear.
She shivered with pleasure. “I’ll be all right,” she said, then gave a soft cry as his teeth closed over her earlobe. She fisted her hands in his jacket and jerked him closer.
He hissed and pressed his hips into her. The sweet pressure of it rebounded through her and left her breathless. She arched against him.
He kissed her again, again, again. “The inlet. Tonight,” he whispered, then pulled away with reluctance in his eyes.
She stood there for several moments after he left, touching her fingers to her tingling lips as if she could preserve the feel of him.
Weariness won out. She went to her cot and lay down, intending only to get another hour’s rest before joining the crew. But when she woke again, she realized by the dimming quality of the light that she’d slept the entire day.
The sounds of clanking dishes reached her, and the faint smell of dinner made her empty stomach rumble. She hefted herself into a sitting position and touched a hand to her forehead. Well, at least it didn’t feel like she’d bake alive anymore.
She heard the zipper of her tent door being drawn back, and turned to look. Flintrop ducked in with a thermos. “Good, you’re awake.”
“Just,” she said.
He stepped inside. “I brought you some soup. Thought it would help shore you up. Doing better?”
The rumble of her stomach intensified at the thought of food. “Probably look like hell, but yes, I feel better.”
He handed the thermos over and sat on the cot. “You couldn’t look like hell if you wanted to.”
She chose to ignore his comment, and unscrewed the cap of the thermos.
“Lamb called,” he added. “There’s some snag at Eurocon that he’s got to stay and sort out. We haven’t located Becky, even though the boat’s still here.”
Pouring a cup of soup, Sara said, “Really? She must have