Page 51

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The rented jeep bounced across the uneven terrain, each jolt making the vehicle’s frame shudder and leaving clouds of orange dust in their wake. Rose braced her hand against the dash, stealing glances at Finn as he navigated around patches of scrub brush.

Dawn splashed the sky in watercolor strokes of rose gold, transforming the harsh landscape into something almost magical. Her skin still hummed where Finn had touched her just hours ago, and even now, racing toward uncertainty, the lingering warmth kindled something deep in her chest.

She’d achieved so much with MARV, earned respect for her research, but those victories had been like pressing her face against a window and watching life happen on the other side. Now, with desert light warming her face and Finn beside her, she felt truly awake for the first time in years. Like she’d been moving through the world in gray-scale, and he’d suddenly switched on the color.

Her seatbelt snapped taut as another bump jarred them, the jolt bringing her thoughts back to their destination. The archaeological dig waited somewhere ahead, and with it, Thea. The situation twisted in her mind like a Rubik’s cube that wouldn’t align. Thea had always moved like a chess master, each step calculated three moves ahead. But the empty stretch of wilderness before them made no sense in any game Rose could imagine.

“Hey.” Finn’s hand bridged the space between them, his strong fingers threading through hers. Her throat tightened at the gesture. She lifted his hand to her lips, pressed them against his scarred knuckles. His scent of gun oil and leather wrapped around her.

He rubbed his thumb over her fingers. “We’re almost there.” A cluster of faded tents shimmered on the horizon like a mirage.

She squeezed his fingers and nodded, locking down the maelstrom of emotion he’d brought to life within her as her pulse kicked up.

“You ready for this?”

A laugh stuck in her throat. Had she ever been ready for the hurricane that was her sister? Never.

She forced her lips into a smile. “Of course.”

Finn parked at the edge of the encampment. Beige tents sprouted from the desert floor in a rough circle, canvas walls flapping in the gritty breeze. A beaten path through the outer tents opened onto a central gathering space. Wooden tables, weathered gray by sun and sand, ringed a fire pit where embers still glowed beneath a blackened pot. The rich aroma of spiced meat made her empty stomach grumble. Breakfast had been lukewarm coffee and a pastry grabbed at the hotel.

Young archaeologists bent over ancient vases, wielding small brushes with surgical precision among the careful rows of artifacts in clear bags. Several tables stood empty, waiting for new discoveries. One student looked up as they entered. A woman. Her gaze skimmed past Rose before freezing on Finn. Her brush stilled mid-stroke, mouth parting as she took in the gun holster riding low on his lean hips, the dark lines of ink visible beneath his short sleeves, the lethal grace of his stance.

Heat flared under Rose’s skin, not entirely from the desert sun.

Hardly surprising . She steeled herself, taking a deep breath. “We need to speak to Dr. Nion. He’s expecting us.” Several more students looked up at her words, but Rose kept her gaze locked on the first woman, not needing to see more jaws drop at the black-clad warrior at her side.

“Of course.” The first student skirted her workstation, self-consciously patting her hair as she approached. “This way.” She gestured to a tent with a crooked red cross pinned to the tent flap.

The student walked ahead but kept checking over her shoulder, shooting glances at Finn as he followed.

Rose hesitated. A knot formed in her stomach. She forced back her shoulders. It’s not like we’re a couple or anything . She took a deep breath.

Finn checked over his shoulder, tracking the line of her gaze.

Crap.

Rose looked away.

He halted.

“Finn—”

He slid his hand along the line of her jaw and kissed her. Not a gentle brush of lips, but a claiming. His fingers pulled her hair as he drew her closer, and the desert heat had nothing on the fire that blazed through her veins. The world narrowed to the press of his mouth against hers, the solid warmth of his chest, the way his other hand gripped possessively at her waist. When they finally broke apart, she had to remember how to breathe.

His eyes met hers, dark and intense, as he dragged his thumb along her lower lip. “There’s only you.”

She swayed slightly as reality filtered back in. The chatter of voices at the tables. The clink of glass. Sweat dampened her back. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the imprint of his kiss.

“Ah, there you are.” An English accent cut through her daze. A harried looking tall man with black-rimmed glasses stepped out from inside the tent. He brushed his overlong top hair out of his eyes and stuck out his hand. “Dr. Nion.” He directed his gaze toward Rose. “You must be the sister. I can see the family resemblance.” He shook Rose’s hand and then Finn’s. “We found her close to the dig site earlier. Seemed to have been walking in the desert for some time. She was quite delirious. Dehydrated, I suspect. Brought her straight back to camp for IV fluids.”

He frowned and stuck his hands in his cargo pockets. “She’s still not making much sense, I have to say.” He stroked his chin. “Perhaps a touch of heat stroke, too. Ranting about swarms and such like. No swarms out here unless you count the sand bugs.” He grimaced.

Swarms . Rose kept her expression neutral, not wanting to catch Finn’s eye.

Nion continued. “We contacted the hospital, and an ambulance is on the way, but there’s often a lack of urgency here.”

“Can we see her?”

“What?” Nion started at Finn’s question. “Of course. How silly of me.” He turned and lifted the tent flap. “Follow me. ”

Finn glanced back at Rose, eyebrows lifting in silent question.

She made a shooing gesture. Let’s go in. Even though all she wanted to do was turn and drive as far away from here as possible.

The inside of the tent was stuffy, a makeshift infirmary where the desert heat pressed against the thick canvas walls and medical supplies cast long shadows in the filtered light. Rose breathed in the dusty canvas scent. In an instant, she was back on the cliffs of North Devon, squashed in their family’s alleged four-man tent with Thea and their parents. Evenings playing cards by flashlight. Lying in her sleeping bag, holding hands with Thea as their father’s deep voice conjured stories out of nowhere.

Back when Thea still trusted her enough to hold her hand in the dark.

When family had bound them together.

It hadn’t all been her imagination, she was sure of it. Once they had been sisters with all that meant in both their hearts.

How had things gone so wrong?

She swallowed against the emotion in her throat. Life didn’t always work out as you wanted it to, but it was still up to you to choose how you responded to what it threw at you.

Thea had made her own choices.

Nion stopped at a narrow camp bed, one of four lined up against the tent wall. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight that stretched across her sister’s legs from a gap in the canvas. Thea’s lips were cracked and peeling, her skin sallow beneath a film of Kalahari red. Dark circles hollowed her eyes, which moved restlessly beneath closed lids. Her clothes were stained with the same orange-red sand that covered everything in the dig site .

“Thea.” Rose sat down on the edge of the bed and took her sister’s hand in hers. Thea’s skin was clammy, too cool despite the oppressive heat. She pressed Thea’s hand between her palms, holding her sister close as she had once done when they were children.

She wanted there to be a way back. To be sisters once more. Even though part of her suspected the point of return was long gone.

“I’ll give you some privacy.” Dr. Nion gestured toward a card table at the far side of the tent. A chunky laptop was open on the table. “I have work to be getting on with. But I’m just there if you need me.” He excused himself with a flap of his short white jacket.

Finn grabbed a folded camp chair and opened it at Thea’s bedside.

Rose shot him a grateful smile. The chair creaked as she sat.

Thea’s eyes snapped open.