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"You don't have to pretend with me," Jasmine said. "I can see that it has affected you."

"No offense, Jasmine, but it's a bunch of hogwash." Even to her own ears, the protest sounded hollow. "Pretty pictures and vague interpretations that could apply to anyone, and in my case, you knew too much about me to do an impartial reading. You might have even guided the results with your preconceptions."

Jasmine didn't look offended as she began gathering the cards. "It's possible that I influenced the results with what I knew, but it's also possible that I didn't."

Fenella paced across the living room, trying to shake off the unease that had settled over her. Why was she allowing herself to get worked up over a deck of cards she didn't believe in?

It was ridiculous.

And yet, her intuition prompted her to believe what the damn cards had shown her, and she knew better than to doubt her gut feelings. Every warning sign she'd gotten so far in regard to Din had proven accurate, and she wasn't sure that the emergency landing was what they'd been warning her about. It all might be pointing to something wrong about this reunion with him.

And now The Tower. Upheaval. Destruction.

Her phone buzzed with another text. She picked it up, half-expecting another message from Din, but it was from Max.

Got Din. Showing him to his temporary quarters. All good.

Fenella stared at the message, confusion and irritation rising in equal measure. Why had Max picked up Din? Had he wanted to warn him about her? They'd probably spent the entire drive gossiping about her.

"What's the matter?" Jasmine asked.

"Max picked up Din at the airport," Fenella said.

"That's good, isn't it?" Jasmine asked. "Those two should rebuild their friendship, and the sooner the better. They have fifty years of catching up to do."

"I suppose," Fenella conceded. "I just hate the thought of them talking about me, which I'm sure they are doing right now. Maybe that's why I was so antsy."

Jasmine grimaced. "Well, I won't tell you that's not what they are doing. Men gossip as much as women do, but I don't think they would say anything unkind about you, so you shouldn't get upset."

Fenella loosened a breath. "You are probably right."

Her eyes drifted back to where the tarot cards had been. The Tower's image lingered in her mind—the lightning strike, the crumbling structure, the falling figures.

Din had overcome many obstacles to reach her, and according to Jasmine's cards, they were headed for some kind of cataclysm.

She ran a hand through her hair, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. She'd survived half a century by trusting her instincts and recognizing when something was off, and everything about this situation felt like a giant warning sign.

Din might not be the source of the trouble, as Jasmine had said. But trouble was coming all the same.

12

DIN

As Din and Max rode the elevator up to the pavilion, Din couldn't help but notice how settled his old friend seemed. That was new. Love, apparently, did that to a man provided that it was reciprocated.

Max felt safe with Kyra.

"Thomas is a nice guy. Do you remember him?" Max asked.

"Vaguely." Din followed him out of the elevator. "What did he do before returning to the force?"

"He was a bricklayer."

"Good paying job," Din said. "I did that for a while, then I thought about studying architecture, but somehow found myself drawn to archeology." He stopped by the new display of artifacts that had been placed around the glass pavilion. "I should have a talk with Kalugal about his digs." He turned to Max. "Are you close to the guy?"

Max shook his head. "I'm just a lowly Guardian. Kalugal now sits on the council and is chummy with Kian and Toven and the rest of the elite."

Din cast him a sidelong glance. "Do I detect resentment?"