Offensive #2
He slapped his armored thighs. The sound made her shudder.
“Then I still need to investigate. Whatever it is you do, there has to be a scientific explanation for it. The American Journal of Botany isn’t going to take the woman with the pretty green eyes told me so as an abstract.
And I don’t have time to find another research subject.
It took me forever to get this trip approved. ”
He was as stubborn as her flowers had become. Mara drew herself up again, folding her arms. “No. You cannot.”
“And I say I can.” He rolled to his feet, shifting as he did to stand several feet away. “Look, I can see you’re upset. But there’s a lot riding on this for me. So I’d appreciate it if you’d—”
“No!” Mara’s rage welled forth like a sandstorm, and she channeled it into the sand, calling forth a ripple of earth that made him stumble back toward his bridge. “You may not touch my flowers!”
He gaped with confusion as the earth pushed him farther, forcing his feet back along his bridge.
“What the hell?” He glanced behind him, clutching at the handles of his stepladder to keep from falling into the prickly pears.
They were quivering along with Mara, their paddles hissing against each other.
“This hill is mine!” Mara gestured at the earth under the end of his bridge, encouraging it to swell higher and higher, tilting the plank up into the air. “You are not welcome. Go away!”
Ethan might be dressed as a fool, but he clearly could recognize danger when he saw it.
He scrambled down his stepladder, watching with wide-open eyes and mouth as Mara gave a final heave of earth, sending the plank of wood flying backwards.
It flipped upward, still secured to the stepladder, teetered for a moment at the top of its arc, then flopped down on Ethan’s side of her barrier.
He barely avoided it, leaping out of the way to crash down on the sand, his bags flying.
The stepladder wobbled, then fell over on its side.
Ethan stumbled to his feet, staring up at her.
She lifted her chin and strode slowly forward, reveling in the drama, until her skirts were close enough to tangle in the thorns of her barrier.
“Now go,” she said in her most forbidding voice.
Or tried to. Her voice was breaking again, cracking with the grief his demands for explanation had dragged up, the pain of his stubborn refusal to leave.
But it was almost forbidding. Almost strong.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, staring at her. “Holy shit. You just…” He lowered his chin, glared back at her. “I’m not leaving. I don’t care what wackadoo booby traps you’ve got set up here. I have a permit to do research, and I am going to do my fucking research. You can’t stop me.”
Mara was shaking with rage, with the effort expelling him had taken, but she was surrounded by her elements, by the earth and the plants, and she called on them now, drawing power, channeling her wishes back down into the earth.
“But I can,” she said sweetly, and commanded the hillside to swallow his so-clever bridge.
Ethan stumbled back as the sand rumbled, watching the shifting ridge of his submerged equipment as it traveled the rest of the way down the hill like a caricature of a mole’s tunnel.
She reached out far enough to determine where he’d parked his Jeep this time, sent the stepladder and plank down the soft silt of the wash until she could expel it right beside his new campsite.
From where she stood, she could not see the result other than a puff of dust rising in the air, but she could feel it, and her chest warmed with satisfaction at the oath Ethan muttered at the sight.
At the last minute, she’d called back her rage enough to keep the siege engine from smashing into the Jeep.
Damaging his vehicle would be counterproductive; he would need it functional to drive away.
Which of course he would, now that she’d given him a glimpse of what she could do. How thoroughly outmatched he was.
He turned back to her, and what was that expression on his face? It was the same as he’d worn when he’d said hello, somewhere between wonder and confusion and adoration, and it made her stomach clench. He had no right to look at her like that. None at all.
And then he was smiling again, brilliant and wide, as if she hadn’t just displayed powers he could never have imagined. He started to clap his gloved hands, slowly enough to be ironic, but not with that look on his face. It was pure admiration now, she realized. She’d impressed him.
“Well played,” he said in his sandpaper voice. “I don’t know how you did that, but it was amazing. You really put me in my place.”
She tossed her hair, accepting the praise as her due. “And now you will leave.”
“Oh, I think not.” He stopped clapping, planted his fists on his hips.
“I’m not leaving. I don’t care if you have land mines and…
whatever just did that. Armies of prairie dogs doing your bidding?
Maybe with little radio-controller hats?
” His eyes seemed to glow with determination. “I love a challenge.”
She felt her face crumple, smoothed it back to regal coldness. “You will lose this challenge.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged—or seemed to; the thick armor dulled his movements. “And maybe not. You may have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.” He started to gather his scattered bags.
“Blunders?” Mara folded her arms again in defiance. “I have defeated you. I will not let you pass this way again.”