Page 19
19
FENELLA
F enella collapsed onto the plush bed, groaning as she kicked off her shoes and watched them tumble across the expensive carpet. Her feet throbbed in protest at having walked miles around that bloody theme park all day.
It had been years since she'd subjected herself to this kind of voluntary torture.
"Stupid American tourist trap," she muttered, though there was no real heat behind the complaint.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, surprised to find her lips curving into a smile as she recalled the girls' faces when they'd first caught sight of that ridiculous fantasy castle. The way Laleh had gripped her hand on the Transformers ride, screaming with joy. Even Arezoo had dropped her sophisticated act by the afternoon, joining her sisters and cousin in their fun and acting her age for a change .
"Christ, I'm going soft," Fenella murmured to the empty room, draping her arm over her eyes. "It's those bloody maternal hormones that should be long dead by now."
She placed a hand over her stomach, wondering if it felt queasy because of all the junk she'd consumed or because her hormones were staging a coup, demanding she did something about getting a baby in there.
"Dream on," she told them. "Not happening."
It was probably the fault of the sugary butterbeer. It had been sickeningly sweet, but she still couldn't stop drinking it, which was a metaphor for the entire experience. It had been over the top, fake and saccharine, but during the time she'd spent at the park, she'd actually managed to forget about the nightmares of the past few weeks. Or had it been months?
How long had she been in the clutches of that monster?
"Don't think about it," she commanded. "Time for some telly." She reached for the remote on the nightstand and flicked the television on.
"Ugh, news." She switched to another channel, but nothing caught her fancy.
She was just too tired. The sugar high was fading and exhaustion was creeping in, along with the nagging worry about Din's delayed arrival.
Fenella didn't believe in coincidences, and when the universe was shouting a warning, she listened .
A soft knock interrupted her brooding, and then the door opened a crack.
"Fenella? Are you awake?" Jasmine asked.
Fenella sighed, debating whether to pretend to be asleep, but there was nothing to watch, and she wasn't in the mood for a book, and chatting with Jasmine might help her relax. The woman had a positive, calming effect, maybe because she placed no demands on anyone and didn't argue about nonsense like so many people liked to do.
"Unfortunately, yes," she called back.
Jasmine poked her head in, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. "Would you like to join me and Ell-rom for some wine and snacks?"
That actually sounded lovely. Fenella could use something salty to wash down all the sugary sweetness.
"I'm coming." She rose to her feet but didn't bother with shoes.
She padded to the living room where Ell-rom sat on the couch with a tray of cheese, crackers, and fruit in front of him and a bottle of wine with three glasses.
It seemed like Jasmine hadn't expected her to refuse.
"Where are the girls?" Fenella asked as she sat on the floor next to the enormous coffee table so she could be close to the tray.
"They are all cuddled up in one room watching the first Harry Potter movie," Jasmine passed Fenella a generously filled glass. "I think today was a big success, and it was exactly what they needed."
Fenella took a sip, appreciating the rich cabernet. "I have to admit that it was fun. Even Arezoo enjoyed herself."
"She reminds me of my mother," Jasmine said, a fond smile touching her lips. "A born leader who thinks she needs to take responsibility for everyone around her."
The exact opposite of Fenella. She was a one-woman show, and she neither followed nor led anyone. She was a wanderer, a nomad, and staying in one place was not her thing.
"The girls are resilient," Ell-rom observed, holding a wine glass with his princely grace. "And they have each other's backs."
Something about his statement touched a nerve. Fenella had never had anyone she could rely on. Even when she'd still been a human, her baby brother relied on her and not the other way around, and then she'd had to abandon him to protect him.
Jasmine's phone rang, and as she glanced at the screen, her eyes narrowed. "Unknown Scottish number again. It must be Din."
Instead of the flutter Fenella had experienced before when Din had called, this time her gut clenched with dread.
"Here you go." She handed Fenella the phone. "It's him. "
"Hello, Din," she said, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile.
"Fenella." His voice sounded tired but warm, that familiar Scottish burr wrapping around her name like a cashmere blanket. "I hope I'm not calling too late."
"It's nine in the evening. Barely past teatime," she said. "What's wrong now? Train derailment? Alien invasion? Biblical plague?"
There was a pause, and she could just envision his grimace.
"I just got notified that the flight was canceled. The next one available leaves tomorrow evening. It's not a huge delay, but I wanted you to know so you wouldn't worry."
The flutter in Fenella's chest transformed into a cold, heavy weight.
"Just don't," she said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't come. Cancel the whole thing and stay home." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "I don't believe in coincidences, Din. These are warnings. It would seem that we are not meant to meet again."
Jasmine shot her a concerned look, which Fenella pointedly ignored.
Din's sigh crackled through the connection. "Fenella, love. It's just a bit of bad luck with the flights. It happens all the time, and there is nothing mystical about it. "
"Two incidents in a row aren't luck, it's a bloody omen," she insisted, pacing now. "I haven't survived this long by ignoring my instincts, and right now, they are shouting that you should stay in Scotland, preferably in your room. Don't go anywhere until you get a sign that it's okay to leave it."
"Oh, sweetheart." His voice was like a warm blanket around her. "Your reappearance in my life is the sign I've been waiting for. Besides, I've survived much longer than you by not letting a wee bit of trouble dictate my life."
He had a point there, but she still felt uneasy about the whole thing. "At least tie a red ribbon around your luggage and in your socks to counteract the bad luck."
Jasmine and Ell-rom were looking at her like she was a lunatic, but she didn't care.
"Whatever you say, love. If you want me to tie red ribbons, I will do so. Anything else? Should I break a match because trouble comes in threes? That is supposed to end the cycle of bad luck."
Despite herself, Fenella felt a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "That's a good idea, but a match is not enough. A pencil should do, though."
"Not a problem." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Listen, Fenella. If you truly don't want me to come, I won't push. But I don't think the universe is conspiring against us. The opposite is true. It's giving us a second chance."
Fenella hesitated, torn between the comfort of his reasonable tone and the persistent warning bells in her mind.
"I don't know," she said finally, hating the uncertainty in her voice. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Damn. She hated caring about what happened to other people. Caring for herself was tough enough.
"I'll be fine. I'll call you tomorrow before boarding, aye?"
"Okay."
When she ended the call, Jasmine looked at her with concern. "You okay?"
"Peachy." Fenella handed her the phone. "Nothing like a couple of transportation mishaps to really boost one's confidence about a reunion fifty years in the making."
Jasmine sighed. "I wish I had my tarot cards to do a reading for you, but I gave them to my mother as a talisman for the mission."
"Tarot cards?" Fenella raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have pegged you for the superstitious type."
"I'm not, but I believe in the Goddess, the Mother of All Life, and I also believe that she guides those who seek her guidance. The cards were actually Kyra's. She left them with me before she was taken. I've kept them all these years."
Ell-rom placed a gentle hand on Jasmine's shoulder, the gesture sweet, reassuring, and making Fenella's heart squeeze with envy.
"Things happen, Fenella," Jasmine continued. "It doesn't always mean something cosmic is trying to send a message."
"Perhaps," Fenella conceded, though she wasn't convinced. "Or perhaps I'm just looking for an excuse to avoid the whole situation."
"Are you?" Jasmine asked.
Fenella drained her wine rather than answer, and Jasmine had the good sense not to press further. Instead, she shifted the conversation to lighter topics, and they spent the next hour or so drinking wine, snacking on cheese and crackers, and talking about nothing of real importance.
By the time Jasmine and Ell-rom bid her goodnight and retired to their room, Fenella's mood had improved marginally, though the undercurrent of unease remained.
Not ready to hit the sack yet, she walked out to the terrace, drawn to the panoramic view of the city.
Leaning against the railing, Fenella's mind drifted to the last time she'd ignored her instincts.
Bucharest, 1989.
She'd felt the same crawling unease then, the same sense of wrongness that had preceded every disaster in her life. But she'd had a job to do, money to make, and she'd silenced the warning voice within.
The game had gone sideways almost immediately, and she found herself with three angry men with knives who had every intention of making her suffer.
Her strength and quick-healing body had saved her from carrying a big scar across her ribs, where one of the men had slashed her before she'd managed to break free.
If she hadn't been immortal, she would have bled out in that filthy shitehole.
Following that logic, though, Din was just as resilient as she was, probably more so, and he was perfectly capable of handling himself.
He would be fine.
Table of Contents
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- Page 2
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- Page 5
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- Page 9
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- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19 (Reading here)
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
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- Page 36
- Page 37
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- Page 39
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- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50