The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,92
her table in the process. They thumped to the floor by her feet.
“What the hell was that all about back there?” he demanded.
She scowled, then bent and piled the fallen books into her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, you don’t. He’s all over you!”
She met his glare with an expression of outrage. “Are you out of your mind?” She stood and shoved the books back onto the table so hard that they knocked over a bottle of water. She didn’t bother to catch it. It bounced onto the floor to create a spreading puddle in the tent corner.
“Why don’t you tell me how, all of a sudden, he’s able to have his hands on you whenever he feels like it, and you won’t let me near you?”
“You think I’m sleeping with Flintrop? After what we...? How dare you!”
Oh, he dared, all right. His temper blazed again as though she’d poured gasoline on it. He crossed the tent in two steps and reached for her arm.
She shrieked in pain before his fingers even landed. The air flared in a blue arc and snapped with static. Ian hissed and snatched his stinging hand back. He stared in disbelief at his fingers, and then at her. The taste of copper filled his mouth.
Sara clutched her arm, panting. Her eyes, fear-wide and liquid hazel, raked him from head to foot and back again.
Ian flexed his numbed hand. The electric smell in the air prickled in his nose. “What the hell was that?”
She didn’t answer. He hated the distrustful way she watched him. Contrite, he stepped toward her again, reaching out. “Sara...”
She sprang backward like a spooked deer, still gripping her arm close to her body. “Get out,” she whispered, trembling.
She might as well have screamed it. Ian backed away with his mind spinning. Was it me? Christ. It wasn’t her. He turned on his heel and strode out of the tent.
Finding the camp empty, he crossed the dig and barreled into Faith’s tent.
She spun out of her chair at his entrance, looking ready to pummel him flat. “Jesus, Ian. Are you trying to scare me?” She must have noticed the worried look on his face a moment later, because she stood and reached for his arm. “Are you—”
He sidestepped her grasp, flinging his hands in the air. “Don’t touch me!”
“What?”
“I just shocked Sara. I don’t know what happened. I went to touch her arm and zap, like I hugged a frigging transformer. It wasn’t her, I know it wasn’t. Her eyes didn’t change.” He thrust his smarting right hand under her nose, palm up.
She examined the angry red marks already developing across his fingers. So did he. His throbbing fingertips felt like he’d grabbed a hot pan barehanded.
Faith turned and went to her first-aid kit. Rather than letting her hand the burn pack to him, he motioned for her to drop it on her camp table.
She paused, frowning. He watched her eyes change from blue to silver. She swept his figure once over, angling her head like a quizzical cat. Her mouth opened and snapped shut again.
Ian began to feel like an experiment. He was on the point of telling her to hurry up and figure out what was wrong with him when she reached out and grabbed his hand.
Nothing happened.
“The shock wasn’t you.” She handed him the burn pack.
“If it’s not me, then what the hell is it? She looked like I was going to attack her.”
“Is she okay?” asked Faith.
“Yeah, if you count scared as okay!”
Faith went to her trunk and rummaged through a pile of sweaters to get to a case at the bottom. She pulled it out and withdrew the handheld device within. “Come on.”
They returned to Sara’s tent to find her trying to put the mess on her camp table back into order. Ian hung back in the doorway, shoving a hand in his pocket. He dug the fingernails of his other hand into the burn pack.
Faith went forward without hesitation. Sara retreated before the advance. “Relax,” Faith said, and flipped open the thing in her hand.
Sara frowned at it. “What on earth do you need an electrometer for?”
“I’m finding out what’s going on. The electrical readings around here have been bouncing all over the scale, and I think we’ve found out why.”
“Me?” Sara spluttered. “Since when can I shock people?”
“Ian said it wasn’t you.” When Sara shot him a leery glance, Faith added, “It wasn’t him, either. You can stop eyeing him like he’s going