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"I doubt it. Ideally, I need something that belonged to him, or at least an object he touched, but I've already tried it with a piece of jewelry he'd gifted the Clan Mother and gotten nothing from it."

Kyra frowned, considering. "So, we're at a dead end?"

"We still have Syssi and her visions. She might give us another clue. Something clearer than what she's seen so far."

Jasmine handed the scrying stick to Kyra. "Here, hold this and see if you feel anything."

The moment Kyra's fingers wrapped around the wooden implement, she felt a strange resonance between it and her pendant. The amber stone grew warmer, and the stick seemed to vibrate ever so slightly in her grasp.

"They seem to be responding to each other," she said. "It's like they are saying hello through me because I'm touching them both at the same time."

Jasmine's eyes widened. "That's unusual. But since the stick is just a conduit for my powers, it might have absorbed some of them or is just responding to yours."

Before they could explore the phenomenon further, both of their phones chimed simultaneously with incoming messages.

Kyra put the stick on the counter to check her message.

"It's from Bridget," she said, reading the text. "She wants us to come to the clinic at ten-thirty."

Jasmine checked her own phone and nodded. "I got the same message. Any idea what it's about?"

Shaking her head, Kyra glanced at the time on her phone. "That's in less than half an hour." She looked up at her daughter. "It's a five-minute walk to the clinic, so it's not like we need to rush. I'm just worried what it might be about."

"Either way, we should get ready." Jasmine dried her hands on a kitchen towel. "We'll continue this later. And I promised to tell you all about my adventures in Tibet and how it all started." She smiled. "Perhaps the preamble is even more exciting than the search itself. I was kidnapped and trafficked to a cartel boss along with Margo, who later became one of my best friends."

Kyra gaped at her daughter. "You can't just drop something like that on me and not tell me the rest."

Jasmine laughed. "Fine. I'll tell you on the way."

19

FENELLA

Fenella padded into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The aroma of fresh coffee and something sweet filled the air, making her stomach growl.

Shira stood at the stove, her flaming red curls piled atop her head in a messy bun that somehow looked artful rather than chaotic. Several loose tendrils framed her heart-shaped face, emphasizing her porcelain skin that was dotted with freckles.

So pretty, so perfect, but her flawless beauty no longer annoyed Fenella.

"Morning." Fenella made her way to the coffee pot. "That smells divine."

Shira turned, her face brightening with a smile that revealed perfect teeth. "I'm making French toast, and I was about to knock on your door to see if you wanted some."

"God, yes." Fenella poured herself a generous mug of coffee. "I'm absolutely famished, and that's strange given how much I ate last night at Callie's."

"How was it?" Shira asked.

Fenella took a long sip of coffee before answering, savoring the rich, dark flavor. "Fabulous. Callie's is great. I wish I could eat there every night and sample the different dishes she makes. Have you eaten there?"

Shira shook her head. "The waiting list is months long, and I'm terrible at planning ahead. I like doing things spontaneously." She chuckled. "Not a trait most would associate with a librarian, but I'm very different at work from who I am outside of it. How did you manage to get a reservation?"

"I didn't. Max did. He traded some highly coveted concert tickets for the reservations."

"That was nice of him." Shira cast Fenella a curious look. "Was it as a favor for you or for Din?"

"Both, I guess." Fenella sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. "He still feels guilty about what happened fifty years ago in Scotland."

"Oh, yeah?" Shira flipped the French toast, the golden-brown slices sizzling in the pan. "What happened?"