The Serpent in the Stone (The Gifted Series) by Nicki Greenwood Page A

s your turn. ” When he didn ’ t respond, she fell silent and watched him work. At last she added, “ Tell me about your back. ”
    “ Tell me about your necklace. ”
    “ I asked you first. ”
    “ Are we doing the grade-school thing now? ” He gave her a brief look of amusement that washed away the serious look on his face and set her belly fluttering, at complete odds with her apprehension. When he applied antiseptic to her wound, she cringed at the sting.
    He jerked his hand away, but she couldn ’ t tell whether he was still leery of her, or sorry he ’ d hurt her. “ Fine, ” she said irritably. “ We think Dad was murdered for this necklace. We don ’ t— ”
    “‘ We, ’ meaning you and Faith. ”
    “ Yes. Can I finish, since you want to know so badly? ”
    He went back to applying the antiseptic. “ Go on. ”
    She suspected it was easier for him to look at her injury than meet her gaze. That stung more than the wound. “ We don ’ t know what it is, and we don ’ t know what it does. It ’ s old. It ’ s important enough to kill someone over. It ’ s a stupid piece of rock, and I want my father back. ”
    Ian picked up the first-aid kit and set it on his knees. He looked at her at last. Something dark and heart-rending flashed in his eyes and was gone before she could interpret it. He shrugged his good shoulder. “ Why fix the thing, if you don ’ t know what to do with it? ”
    “ My sister... ” She trailed off, wary of speaking about Faith. Talking with Ian was a swampy, trackless journey with no indication of where to step next. She swallowed. “ Our father would have destroyed it if he hadn ’ t intended to do something with it. What about your back? ”
    He looked down at the kit and concentrated on tearing open a package of tape stitches. His jaw muscles twitched. This close, she smelled a chalky scent on his clothes, and under that, a warm, undeniably male scent that unsettled her to her very bones.
    But then he spoke. “ Knife scars. I was ten. It ’ s what you get when you try to protect your parents from a telekinetic. ”
    He said it so fast, it took her a few seconds to absorb the meaning of his words. The world shifted sideways. “ Th-There ’ s another one? ”
    “ There was . The cops shot him. ” Ian pressed the tape stitches over her wound and closed up the kit. He sprang up from the cot and dropped the kit on his camp table. “ I don ’ t think I need to explain any more of what happened. We ’ re done here. ”
    In shock, she bent to scoop up her coat from the tent floor. Her hand trembled so hard it took a second try. Her gaze found his broad back as if she could see the scars under his flannel shirt. “ I d-don ’ t know what to say— ”
    “ You can ’ t undo what happened. ”
    She ached and shook and stared at him, frantic for answers, afraid to ask the questions. Who was the man? What had he wanted? Why had he hurt Ian ’ s family? She couldn ’ t imagine using her power to hurt another human being.
    Ian turned on his heel. By the look of censure on his face, he could imagine such a thing well enough.
    Sara ’ s hurt gave way to a stab of righteous indignation. She stood up. “ Thank you for going with me to Mainland. I won ’ t ask you for any more favors. ”
    “ You still owe me. ”
    She jerked to a stop. “ Owe you? You just forced me to blow any protection I have against people who might want to exploit— ”
    “ The birds. That ’ s all I ’ m asking. ”
    She shuddered. “ You ’ re willing to hate what I am, but not so much that you won ’ t use it to your own advantage? ”
    He had the grace to look ashamed—for a moment, at least. That dogged expression returned to his features, as though he were compelling himself to face her.
    As though she might shapeshift into a monster and bite him.
    She rushed out of the tent without waiting for him to speak further.
    All the way back to the dig, she tried not to think of him. The