The Serpent in the Stone (The Gifted Series) (43 page)

That about covered anything he could do to occupy himself with something other than ritual sacrifices.
Hour by hour, he found himself more convinced that he, Faith, and Sara should be as far away from Hvitmar as possible.
Even his work couldn
’
t distract him anymore.

When he turned around, his gaze landed on a wolf standing at the edge of his camp.
He flinched reflexively, even though he knew it was Sara.
“
Hey, gorgeous.
”

She twitched an ear, and her tongue lolled in a brief lupine grin.
She loped forward with her muzzle to the ground.
Ian watched, fascinated, as she wound between the camp chairs and nosed at the beer bottles.
In spite of her disparate lack of fear around a human establishment, he almost forgot she wasn
’
t a real wolf.
She moved like one, sounded like one, and sure as hell looked like one.
He resisted the urge to grab his camera.

Finished with her explorations, she padded over to him.
He took an instinctive step backward.
She laughed that toothy wolf laugh again and slowed to a stealthy walk.

What the heck was she doing?

In the next instant, she dodged closer and snatched his pant leg in her teeth.
She jerked on it, then bounded away with her tail high in the air.

Ian stumbled, but stayed upright.
“
Hey!
”

She bolted around the camp chairs and came to a skidding halt beside one of the large crates.
To Ian
’
s amusement, she lowered her forequarters to the ground in the quintessential canine play-bow.

Laughing, he stalked toward the crate.
“
This isn
’
t fair.
You
’
ve got four legs.
”
He feinted a jump around one side of the crate.
When she raced around to avoid him, he flung a hand out to grab at her from the other side.
She sprang into the air and disappeared around the corner of the large shipping box again.

Ian crouched behind it and peered around the corner.

Nothing.
“
Where
’
d you go?
”

He felt a tug on the back of his T-shirt and spun around.

The wolf bounced backward.
He lunged, and caught her by the forepaw with a laugh.

It occurred to him then that he was holding onto a living, breathing, untranquilized wolf by its leg.
Startled, he let go of her.

She must have seen the surprise in his face, because she cocked her ears forward, and her tongue lolled again.
Lowering her shaggy head, she thrust her nose under his hand.

Ian almost yanked his hand back without thinking.
He let his fingers skim along her muzzle, over the broad forehead, and behind her large, triangular ears.
He took a deep breath.
She even
smelled
like a wolf—that dense, dusty scent of heavy pelt and wilderness.
He laced his fingers through the coarse guard hairs of her ruff, and into the soft, wooly undercoat.

Never, never stare down a wolf,
he remembered someone telling him when he
’
d volunteered with the Yellowstone packs.
But she looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw only Sara.
He smiled.
“
This is unbelievable.
Sara, you
’
re beautiful.
”

She slipped out from under his hands and backed away.
Ian watched the lupine shape blur around the edges, then resolve into that of a crouching woman in a faded navy sweatshirt and jeans.
No matter how many times he saw her do that, it amazed him.

Sara beamed at him and sat back on her heels.
“
You
’
re not so bad, yourself.
When was Luis here?
”

“
Luis?
”

“
He
’
s all over the camp.
In the chair, on the beer bottles—
”

“
You smelled him?
”

“
Yeah.
People smell, much as they
’
d like to think otherwise.
”

Ian gaped at her.
“
Do you have any idea how cool that is?
”
Then, because the curiosity was killing him, he asked,
“
What do I smell like?
”

She dimpled.
“
Like chalk, sweat, and beer, right now.
Been climbing?
”

“
That
’
s flattering.
”

“
If it
’
s any consolation, you smell good to me.
”
She got to her feet.
“
How about one of those beers?
”

“
Sure.
”
He got up and dusted off his jeans.

They moved to the camp chairs.
She took a beer from the carton, then popped it open.
Ian propped his foot on the makeshift stool, then removed his climbing shoes.
“
Tag, huh?
”

“
I used to play tag with Faith all the time.
She got so she
’
d tag me just before climbing a tree, so I couldn
’
t reach her.
”

He laughed.
“
Well, good.
Now I know how to beat you.
”

“
I don
’
t see any trees around here,
”
she pointed out, looking smug.

“I’ll figure something out,” he shot back, just as smug. He settled back into his camp chair. Recalling what Luis had told him earlier, he studied her face. She looked paler than usual, with dark smudges under her eyes. He frowned. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“
I
’
m all right,
”
she said, fast enough for him to realize she wasn
’
t.

He wondered if he might not be contributing to the problem.
He
had
been keeping her up nights, but no power on earth could make him part with that.
The more she was with him, the less he worried what was happening to her when she wasn
’
t.
“
Sara.
”

“
I
’
m fine.
Just unsettled about finishing on time.
”

A pair of specks wheeling in the sky distracted him.
“
I meant to tell you,
”
he said.
“
We
’
ve got a Hathor.
”

She looked up at once.
“
Where?
”

He stood and motioned for her to come closer.
He drew her in front of him and stood at her back.
Instantly mindful of her nearness, he hesitated.
His thoughts fuzzed into a tempting vision of her ensconced in his camp bed, not birdwatching.

Later,
he ordered himself.
Scanning the approaching falcon pair, he reached over her shoulder and traced a finger in the sky.
“
That
’
s her.
The bigger one.
”

Sara did a little dance on her toes. “Ian, this is wonderful!”

“
Yeah.
I think I just got myself a permanent job, thanks to her.
”
The wind changed.
He caught a hint of cinnamon, and inhaled deeply.
She
’
d been eating those candies again.
He revisited the image of the two of them in his tent, and pulled her back against his body.
“
You
’
re here early today.
”

“
I got a reprieve, on account of Flintrop being too busy to annoy me.
No one
’
s been out of their tents all afternoon.
”

Ian slid a hand beneath her sweatshirt and up her belly to her breasts, stroking the soft skin under the edges of her bra.
“
What do you say we forget about him and the birds, and think about something else for a while?
”

She turned in his embrace to curl her arms around his neck.
He loved the way she melted against him.
“
What did you have in mind?
”

He grasped her hand and lowered it from his neck, then towed her toward his tent with an inviting chuckle.
“
Come with me, and I
’
ll show you.
”

****

Another seven days passed in a flurry of activity.
By now, only the hearth of the Viking ruin remained to be cleared.
Numb with exhaustion and increasing worry, Sara couldn
’
t feel any pride in the speed of their progress.
She hadn
’
t slept more than a handful of hours in the past few days.
Work continued without incident, as if Cameron
’
s death had never happened.
The thought made her sick.

She put her tools in a bucket and lifted it to move to the next plot.
Several feet away, Faith stopped her work and stood upright.
Sara felt her sister
’
s stare even before she turned to look.
“
What?
”

“
You need sleep,
”
Faith said.

“
I
’
ll sleep after this whole thing is over.
”

Faith stepped over a marker, and came toward her with a frown.
“
Look, I know we need to get this done, but you
’
re teetering on your feet.
”

Sara spoke in a harsh whisper.
“
We have exactly three days until the full moon, or didn
’
t you notice that?
”

“
And you
’
re no use to me half-dead like this.
Go lie down.
”

Sara let her shoulders slump.
“
I can
’
t.
I
’
ve tried.
”

Faith cast a look around the dig, but the others were working steadily.
She laid a cool hand on Sara
’
s forehead.
“
Are you sick again?
”

Sara backed away.
“
No.
It
’
s not like that.
I just...
Whenever I try to get any rest, I jump right up again and have to do something.
Nervous energy, or whatever it is.
I just can
’
t lie around.
”

“
Well, take a break long enough to go ask Flintrop where he put the electromagnetic charts.
He
’
s in his tent.
”

Sara nodded and climbed up the scaffold, over the dig wall, then headed down the slope toward Flintrop
’
s tent.
Finding it empty, she entered, then flipped through a sheaf of charts on his camp table.
Nothing there.
She turned to the smaller table beside his bed, pushed aside a bottle of saline solution, then picked up a stack of pages.

“
Sara.
Nice of you to drop by.
”

She jerked and looked to the doorway.
Flintrop stood silhouetted in the late afternoon sun, wearing a smug expression that made her want to throw the papers at him.
“
I was looking for Faith
’
s E-M charts.
”

Flintrop stepped into the tent, moved around the bed, then retrieved a folder from an open box.
He brought the folder to her with an aggravating smile.
Sara noticed his gaze lingered on his bed before meeting hers.
She tried not to shrink away from him as she held out her free hand for the folder.