Free The Memory Thief by Emily Colin Page A

it again as he came to a halt about ten feet from where we’d started. “Whew,” he said, tugging me again so I stood next to him.
    I’d had it with being led around like a farm animal. “What the hell was that about?”
    Wordlessly, he pointed down the trail. I looked but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “What?” I asked. Maybe he really was crazy, on top of everything else. That would be just my luck.
    He still had hold of my wrist, and this time he pulled me so I stood in front of him. He put one hand on my shoulder to keep me steady and, lifting the hand that had hold of my wrist, he pointed again.
“Agkistrodon contortrix mokasen,”
he said. “Northern copperhead, to the uninitiated.”
    I gulped. “Oh,” I said. Peering closer, I saw the brown and gray body slithering across the path, almost indistinguishable from the twigs and leaves in its path. Its wide head lifted to look at us, and even from this distance I could see its forked tongue dart out, tasting the air.
    Our bodies were only a few inches apart, and he had a good grip on me. His quiet laughter shook both of us. “Maybe you were right about the whole uncontrolled nature thing.”
    â€œI told you so,” I said.
    â€œThey’re usually nocturnal. Maybe this guy’s lost,” he mused as we watched the copperhead reach the other side of the path and disappear into the trees. He sounded concerned for the snake’s safety, which made me smile.
    â€œThanks for rescuing me,” I said, imbuing my tone with enough sarcasm so that he knew I wasn’t the helpless-maiden type.
    â€œYou do need a guide. You would have stepped right on the freaking thing if I hadn’t stopped you.” I couldn’t see his face, but I would have been willing to bet he was smirking again.
    I dug deep and came up with something I’d seen on the Discovery Channel during a snowed-in weekend in the Adirondacks with my parents. “They’re venomous, but their bite isn’t fatal, right? So I would’ve suffered for a while, but everything would’ve turned out okay.”
    He spun me to face him like we were dancing. “You know more than you let on. Are you a closet herpetologist?”
    I could give as good as I got. Tilting my head, I ran my free hand through my hair, letting it cascade over my back. “If you’re asking me if I have a nasty venereal disease, the answer is no. Not that that’s any of your business, on a first date. And speaking of which, would you mind letting go of my wrist? You’re hurting me, and it’s a little too early in our relationship for S&M.”
    He dropped my wrist like it was on fire and let his hand fall from my shoulder. “That’s too bad,” he said, his voice a few notes lower and his blue eyes locked on mine. “The second part, not the first. The first part is purely good news.”
    Jesus, how did he
do
that? The few inches between us suddenly seemed like way too much—or not nearly enough, if I wanted to hang on to any semblance of dignity. I stepped a full foot back. “Whoa, captain,” I said.
    â€œSorry,” he replied, not looking the least bit apologetic.
    I don’t know what I would have said in return if a full complement of my students hadn’t appeared, making their way down the trail to dinner. “Hey, Ms. Maddie,” they singsonged as they passed me, ogling at Aidan as they went. One of them even went so far as to walk backward down the trail and give me a thumbs-up.
    â€œOh, that’s just great,” I said to myself. Aidan was laughing.
    â€œCome on,” I told him, sounding every inch the bossy schoolteacher.
    â€œYes, ma’am.” He gave me a little salute and started walking again. This time he kept his hands to himself.
    We made it to the dining hall without further incident, although we were somewhat late—most of the folks already had