The Serpent in the Stone (The Gifted Series)

by Nicki Greenwood

  “I feel like I ought to soak in bleach, or I’ll never get this grime out,” agreed Faith.

  Sara glanced around the site. Dustin and Thomas were still working. She moved close to her sister’s ear. “When I went exploring yesterday morning, I ran across an inlet on the western side of the island. I’m going to go for a swim. I’ll show you where it is.”

  “I’ll settle for the camp shower tonight, but that might come in handy tomorrow. Be back by dinner. Is Ian still coming?”

  She tried to sound casual. “As far as I know.”

  “Sara.” Faith gave her an unnerving Don’t-bullshit-me look.

  “I’m fine. I told you, he’s leaving anyway. I’ll see you in a bit.” She headed to her tent.

  She gathered a towel and change of clothes, then set off toward the inlet. By the time she reached it, there were only a couple of hours left before dusk. Time enough for a quick bath.

  Setting her change of clothes on the high rocks near the water’s edge, she stripped naked, leaving only the necklaces hanging around her neck. The breeze was balmy on her skin; thank God it had warmed up over the course of the day.

  Looking at gold-washed ripples, she debated shapeshifting into a seal or some other seagoing creature. The water at this time of year would still be chilly, and a human body wasn’t insulated for cold ocean swimming. She didn’t know much about seals, except what she’d learned that morning from Ian. What little she knew wouldn’t be enough to sustain a shapeshift for more than a few seconds. Shark Markham, indeed. She scanned the water again. “It’s either this, or the camp shower.”

  That decided matters. She went down to the water. Gravel gave way to fine granite that shifted under her stride, sandpapery and pleasant on the soles of her feet. The cold as she splashed into the inlet drove the air from her lungs. How much insulation did those seals, have, exactly? She hunched down into the water.

  After a while, her body seemed to adapt, and the water felt warmer than she’d first thought. She swam a couple of laps, then dove under the waves. Grabbing a handful of granite sand from the bottom of the inlet, she scrubbed it over her skin until it glowed. The cool water glided along her skin as she swam, a welcome change from the heat and sweat of her workday. Not only that, but it had begun to wash away all the other things on her mind. Letting herself relax for the first time since finding the amulet, she stretched out to meet the sensual wash of current flowing over her body.

  She came up in the middle of the inlet and swept her hair back. The distant calls of seabirds mingled with the lessening shush of waves against rock. The tide had begun calming for the night. She supposed she’d better rinse out her grubby clothing as well, before the sunset caught her still out in the water.

  When she looked back toward shore, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature.

  Her clothes and towel had been moved.

  She remembered leaving them on the first rock, a rounded boulder sitting where the shoreline dropped away. They now sat on the ground beside the rock in a jumbled heap. Sara ducked lower into the water, scanning the beach. “Faith?”

  No one answered. “Stop kidding around,” she called, expecting her sister to jump out from behind one of the high rocks. Again, nothing happened.

  As she realized what her unseen stalker had been searching for, her breath came faster. She checked; the amulet still hung safely around her neck beside her locket. She swam to shore, got out, then began walking toward her pile of clothes.

  She’d only made it partway up the beach when she caught the crunch of footsteps on gravel behind her. She spun around, only to halt where she stood.

  Ian rounded a clutch of boulders at the opposite end of the beach, carrying a towel. He glanced up from the ground and stopped dead, looking poleaxed. His breath came out in a long, loud whoosh.

  Her heartbeat charged through her chest like a steam train. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Words bottlenecked in her throat.

  He closed his mouth. His stare heated and traveled over her naked body.

  Fire coursed through her veins, eclipsing the cool water running in rivulets down her back. The primal instinct to answer that look in his eyes sent a wave of chills rippling across her skin.

  He took a step, then halted. She saw his hand clench on the towel, and then he tossed it into the air toward her.

  She caught it and flung it around herself. Shaking, she spun away, then bent to scrape up her clothes.

  Gravel crunched again. Closer, and closer yet. “Sara,” he said, sounding strangled.

  She shot to her feet and gripped the towel tighter, panting around the fierce thudding of her heart. She didn’t turn to face him.

  “Get out of here, and do it quick.”

  She ran.

  ****

  Sara stopped only when she knew she’d put enough distance between them. Even then, she paused just long enough to jerk her pants on and thrust her head and arms through her sweater. She arrived out of breath at the campsite. Dustin called her to dinner. He and Thomas had started a fire and begun laying out everyone’s dishes. “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she puffed, going straight to her tent.

  Inside, she felt a little safer. She only wished her mind would tell her body to calm down, as well.

  “Sara?” Faith ducked her head into the tent.

  “I’m here.”

  Faith entered. “Have you seen my journal? I can’t find it anywhere.”

  “No.” Distracted, Sara swept a glance around her tent, then shuffled a couple of books on her table. “Did you leave it with me for some reason?”

  Faith shook her head. “It was in my trunk this morning. I checked my whole tent. Sara...it had stuff about the necklace in it.”

  Her blood iced over. “You wrote it down?”

  “Shhh!” Faith held up her hands.

  Fresh waves of trembling flooded Sara’s body. Her worst nightmares rushed back with terrifying clarity. “We should never have taken it from the safe box. Someone went through my clothes while I was swimming. I’ll give you one guess what they might have been looking for.” She lowered herself into a chair, then ran a hand through her damp hair.

  Faith mimicked the motion and sat in the table’s other seat. She cast a quick, suspicious glance at the tent doorway. “Did you see anyone?”

  “Ian showed up. A little too conveniently timed.” She braced her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands, masking both her agitation and the blush she felt burning in her cheeks.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing the amulet.”

  “The hell I shouldn’t. I’m afraid to let it out of my sight. We don’t even know what it is, yet. I’ve looked. I can’t find anything.”

  Faith reached out a hand. “Give me it. I’ll just read the damned thing with my gift.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Faith. What if—”

  “What if, while we’re trying to figure the stupid thing out, someone comes and murders you in your sleep? Let me worry about what I see or don’t see. If someone is after this thing, I’d just as soon know what we’re protecting. I’ve looked too, and we’re not getting anywhere the easy way.”

  Sara pursed her lips and removed the amulet from her neck. “Do you think Ian might be the one—”

  “Ian wasn’t even there to break into our house.”

  “Well, there are only five of us on this island!” Sara lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “He knows what I am, or at least he knows enough to make me worry.”

  Her sister reached for the necklace. “Just give it here,” she said, “and let’s get this over with.”

  Sara handed it over with reluctance.

  Taking a deep breath, Faith called on her psychic sense. Her eyes melted into silver, and fixed on the amulet. She grew still and silent.

  Sara waited. Five minutes passed, and Faith did not rouse from her trance.

  Ten.

  Fifteen.

&nb
sp; Anxious now, Sara leaned forward and touched her sister’s arm. “Faith, wake up.”

  Faith shook and blinked awake, looking confused. “A man,” she said. “Not Dad. Not a Celt, either. I’m not sure what he was. Everything was indistinct.”

  “What did he do? Did he say anything?”

  “He had a sword. I saw him kill another man in white robes and take the amulet. He held it up and said something, I don’t even know what. The necklace started spinning, and these lines of light shot out from it along the ground, and then he screamed...” Faith shuddered and looked down at the amulet in her hand. “This thing has blood on it, Sara. Lots of it, I feel it. I think we should destroy it.”

  Sara’s body hummed with agitation. “What happened?”

  “It killed him. He fell, and the necklace fell, and I saw his spirit rise from his body and just vanish into the lines of light. We need to smash the thing.” She rose from her seat.

  Sara jerked to her feet as well. “Dad gave it to us on purpose, or he would have destroyed it himself!”

  Faith hesitated. “Maybe he didn’t have time, once he found out what it was. Before he was—”

  “We still don’t know what it is,” interrupted Sara. She paced the length of her tent. “Did you see anything else?”

  Muscles worked in her sister’s jaw. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I saw what’s missing. The pieces on either side in the center of the necklace. Oval inlays.” She touched her locket. “One gold.” She gestured at Sara’s throat. “The other silver.”

  Open-mouthed, Sara touched her locket. She unfastened it with shaking fingers. “We have to melt these down. They belong in the amulet.”

  “Are you nuts?” Faith strode forward until she was toe to toe with Sara. “Dad took them out for a reason. He wanted to disable the amulet. It’s dangerous. You know it is.”

  Sara shook her head. “He would have smashed it himself. I’m sure of it, Faith. I think he wanted us to do something with it.”

  “Like what, get killed?” Faith slapped the amulet on the table and snatched an empty glass bottle. She raised it to strike.

  “No!” Sara shouted, jumping toward her.

  Faith brought the bottle down on the amulet with a crash. The bottle shattered, and a deafening chime reverberated off the tent walls. Both of them cringed and covered their ears until the sound faded away.

  Faith clutched her now-bleeding hand and looked at the amulet, resting intact on Sara’s table. She bit off a moan and held her hand against her body. “Smashing it is out,” she snarled.

  Sara snatched the amulet up, then looped it over her head and tucked it quickly into her sweater. The stone pulsed with heat against her skin.

  Thomas ducked into the tent. “Everything okay in here?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” Sara answered. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Thomas passed her an unconvinced look, but left again.

  When she was certain of their privacy, Sara reached her hand out to her sister. “Give me your locket.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  Sara stepped toward the tent door. “Do you want to figure this out, or not? Give me the locket. We’ll go to Mainland and get them put back in the amulet tomorrow morning.”

  Faith grabbed Sara’s first-aid kit and dropped it on the table. She flung it open to rummage for bandages and antiseptic. “Sure. We’re just going to walk in there with this knick-knack, which no one is going to get curious about and ask questions about, and come looking for. Not to mention, I don’t think we should leave the dig site.”

  “Fine. You stay with the dig. I’ll go to Mainland myself. Just give me the locket.”

  Faith frowned and finished wrapping her hand with disgruntled motions. She grasped her locket and jerked. The chain snapped. She dropped the locket into Sara’s palm. “Take Ian with you.”

  “What about Dustin or Thomas?”

  “Ian,” Faith repeated flatly.

  “You don’t trust them, do you?”

  Faith closed up the kit and put it back in its place. She went to the tent door and paused, pursing her lips. “At this point, I don’t trust much of anyone. Ian’s the least of my worries, especially if he’s leaving.” She stepped out of the tent.

  Most of the time, Sara trusted her sister’s intuition with her life.

  This time, she feared she might regret it.

  Chapter Four

  The nightmare again.

  Ian waded through the mess on the office floor. He groped for the desk lamp, then flipped it on with a sense of dread.

  He knew the precise moment when the wraith appeared behind him. A flush of frigid air chilled his back. Ian steeled himself and turned around. His blood ran like ice water at the sight of the man.

  Saying nothing, the gory man staggered forward and reached for Ian’s left arm. Ian jumped backward, but the man seized his shoulder in a crushing grip. Fire shot from Ian’s shoulder throughout his body. He screamed in agony and struggled, but the man stepped forward and pinned him to the desk.

  Ian’s entire being shrank into that stone-faced stare and the torture of the man’s hold. He fought against the man’s bearlike grip. Tendons in his shoulder shifted and popped. Muscles contracted. His shoulder burned as if shards of glass were being driven into the joint. The shapes in the room blurred. Everything went scorching white.

  He woke in the next instant blowing like a winded horse, and reached for his left shoulder. Pain throbbed along the length of his arm. Ian half expected it to be dislocated again, but the joint felt sound. He groaned and closed his eyes. The ache faded into numbness.

  This dream was getting old real fast.

  He lay silent a while, drifting in and out of a restless doze, until he heard footsteps outside his tent. He snapped awake at once. After the incident with his climbing rope, every sound that wasn’t wind or birds put him on alert. He rolled smoothly out of bed and onto his feet.

  The sun had risen. A shadow fell across his tent. “Ian?”

  Sara.

  A mental picture of her naked body, washed in gold by the reflection of the sunset, charged into his thoughts and obliterated everything else. Wrestling to push the image out of his head—and the reaction out of his body—he reached for a clean T-shirt. “Give me a minute.” Or maybe a few minutes, because all he wanted was to keep playing that image and see where it led.

  He shrugged his bad shoulder purposely, letting the discomfort force his attention elsewhere. The joint tingled with the same pins-and-needles sensation he’d experienced when he woke from his nightmare. He put the shirt on, careless about his injury, then grabbed his sling and went barefoot to the tent door.

  When he opened it, Sara stood there with her hands jammed into her coat pockets, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else. Her cheeks were pink, too pink to be from the exertion of her walk alone, and he wondered if she were thinking of that encounter at the inlet. Shut up about it, he ordered his body.

  A backpack hung from her shoulder. She canted her head, seeming to weigh her words. “You didn’t come down last night.”

  “I had to finish packing,” he lied.

  She frowned. “I need your help.”

  The image of the gory man flashed in his memory. Hhhhelp her. Ian jerked in surprise. He’d never ignored his gut responses before.

  Something told him not to start now. He wanted to tell her to forget it, but the throbbing of his shoulder reminded him he owed her his life, whether he liked it or not. He hated being indebted to her, being forced to have anything to do with her.

  But parts of him really, really liked it.

  He sighed. Help her, it is. This once...then I’m out.

  Her cheeks went pinker, and he saw her try to push herself past the awkwardness of their last meeting. The look on her face tugged at his sense of humor. If it weren’t for...everything...he might have laughed. “Let me get my stuff together.”

  “What about your post?” she asked.


  “It can wait a while.”

  They walked to the eastern shoreline, where he knew it dipped close enough to sea level to admit a small dock. Sara remained silent. She didn’t seem to know any better than he what to say in the wake of yesterday.

  God. Please stop thinking about that. His pulse quickened. He took a deep breath at the thought of her naked, dripping body, burned indelible in his memory by instant and painful need. He’d almost given in. A couple more steps, and he’d have torn that towel away, and damn all the reasons he didn’t want to want her.

  He dropped behind her as they walked, trying to put some space between them, but it served only to give him a too-compelling view of her swinging hips.

  A motorboat rested at the dock. “This is our ride,” she said.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Mainland. I have to find a jeweler, and quickly. I don’t want to leave the dig site too long.” She unsnapped the boat cover, then pulled it back as fast as possible.

  “A jeweler?” What the hell was so important about a jeweler that it couldn’t wait? He moved to help her with the boat cover. “Why take me?”

  “Faith doesn’t want to leave the dig.”

  “There’s always your crew.”

  She didn’t answer right away. She folded the boat cover, stowed it in the stern of the boat, then unwound the first of the mooring lines. “We need them working. My sister seems to think enough of you to suggest you come with me.”

  He didn’t miss that she left her own opinion unspoken. What had he done to garner Faith’s confidence when he’d hardly talked to her, while Sara remained evasive? He started on the other mooring line. “What do you want a jeweler for, anyway?”

  “My necklace, the stone one. I’m fixing it.”

  “Was it broken?”

  “There are two pieces missing. I’m having them put back in it.”

  An unaccountable chill passed through his body. She could have seen a jeweler by herself, at any time. One-handed, he worked the mooring line free, then coiled it onto a cleat. “Why can’t it wait?”

  She gestured to the dock and moved to the steering wheel. “Give us a push, will you?”