"Hey. " He'd forgotten how fast she could move. A mistake.
The claw marks on his shoulder were raw and angry. With a little sound of distress, Nell started forward before Ripley stopped her.
"She'll handle it. "
"You moved out of the circle. " Fear shuddered back to twist painfully with temper. "You deliberately opened yourself to attack. "
"It was a test. " With sorely bruised dignity, Sam yanked what was left of his shirt back in place. "It worked. "
She spun away from him, and since Zack was the closest, he took her first swipe. "Do you forget that it was Nell who brought madness to its knees, even when it held a knife to her throat?"
"No. " He spoke quietly. "It's not something I'll ever forget. "
"And you. " She rounded on Mac. "You watched Ripley wage her war against the dark, and beat it back. "
"I know. " Mac shoved the sensor her angry energy had fried into his pocket. "No one here underestimates what any of you are capable of. "
"Don't you?" Her eyes scorched each one of them in turn before she stepped back to stand with Nell and Ripley. "We are the Three. " She threw up her hands, and light, bright as fire, shot from her fingertips.
"And the power here is beyond you. "
She turned on her heel and strode away.
"Well. " Mac blew out a breath. "Wow. "
"Real scientific, ace. " Ripley tucked her hands into her pockets and nodded at Sam. "You got her stirred up, so you'd better find a way to smooth it out. If you're stupid enough to do what you did last night, then you're stupid enough to go after her when she's shooting live ammo. "
"I guess you're right. "
She'd nearly reached the edge of the woods when he caught up to her. "Just wait a damn minute. " Sam reached for her arm, then hissed as the electric shock stung his fingers. "Cut it out!"
"Don't touch me. "
"I'm going to do a hell of a lot more than touch you in a minute. " But he kept his hands to himself until she'd reached her car.
She yanked the door open. He slammed it shut.
"Taking off isn't going to solve anything. "
"You're right. " She tossed back her hair. "That's your usual solution. "
Pain kicked in his gut, but he nodded. "And you've just recently demonstrated that you're so much smarter and more mature. Let's finish this out away from innocent bystanders. Let's take a drive. "
"You want to take a drive. Fine. Get in. "
She pulled the door open again, slid behind the wheel. When he was beside her, she eased onto the road.
She kept her speed down as she cut through the village. And the minute she hit the coast road, she let it rip.
She wanted speed, and wind, and the keen edge of danger. All of those things would help carve away some of the anger and help her find her center again.
Her tires squealed as she shot into turns. And because she felt Sam tense beside her, she poured on more speed. She whipped the wheel, and the car shuddered as it clung to the road inches from the edge of the island.
He made some sound in his throat. Deliberately she sent him an icy look. "Problem?"
"No. " Not, he thought, if you considered driving at ninety on a road that curved off into nothing, with a very pissed-off witch behind the wheel, your idea of fun.
As the road climbed, he kept his eyes trained on the stone house on the cliff. It was, at the moment, his nirvana. All he had to do was live to get there.
When she pulled into the drive, he had to take a few deep breaths to get his lungs working again.
"Point taken," he said, and resisted wiping his damp hands on his jeans. "You're capable of handling yourself, even when your control meter's shaky. "
"Thank you so much. " Sarcasm dripped like acid as she stepped out of the car. "Come inside. " She snapped it out. "That wound needs tending. "
Though he wasn't sure it was wise to put his flesh and blood in her hands at the moment, he followed her up the walk. "The place looks great. "
"I'm not interested in small talk. "
"Then don't say anything back," he suggested. He went inside with her. The colors were rich, the wood polished. And the air alive with warm, fragrant welcome.
She'd made changes, he noted. Subtle ones. Mia ones. Mixing elegance with charm. Exquisite taste with simplicity. Though she strode straight back toward the kitchen, he took his time. It might give both of them a chance to cool off.
She'd kept the heavy carved furniture that had been passed down for generations. But she'd added plush, sink-in textures. There were rugs he didn't recognize, but their age told him they'd been rolled up in some attic and had been unearthed when the house had come under Mia's control. She used candles and flowers generously. Bowls of colored rocks, chunks of glittering crystals, and the canny little mystical figures she'd always collected. And books. There were books in every room he passed.
When he stepped into the kitchen, she was already taking jars out of a cupboard. There were gleaming copper pots, hanks of drying herbs in their delicate faded tones and scents. The broom by her back door was very old, the restaurant-grade range very new.
"You had some work done in here. " He tapped his fingers against the surface of the dove-gray counter.
"Yes. Sit down, take off your shirt. "
Instead, he walked to the windows, looked out over her gardens. "It's like an illustration out of a book of fairy tales. "
"I enjoy flowers. Sit down, please. We both have work to get back to, and I'd like to see to this. "
"I did what I could with it last night. It just has to heal. "
She merely stood, staring at him, a jar the color of poppies in her hand.
"All right, all right. Maybe you'll rip a bandage off your petticoat. "
With little grace, he shrugged out of his torn shirt and sat at her kitchen table. The sight of those raw wounds knotted her stomach. She hated seeing anything, anyone, in pain. "What did you use on it?" She bent down, sniffed. Wrinkled her nose. "Garlic. Obvious. "
"It did the trick. " He'd have sawed his tongue in half before admitting the wound was throbbing like a bad tooth.
"Hardly. Be still. Open up," she ordered. "I've no intention of hurting you until after I've healed you. Open. "