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FENELLA

" H ave fun." Din pulled Fenella into his arms. "And be careful out there."

She rolled her eyes. "What possible dangers can await me in wholesale vegetable markets?"

"Oh, I don't know. You seem to be a magnet for trouble."

There was something to what he was saying, but since she was traveling with Kyra, her sisters, and Max, Fenella doubted that anything worse than sore feet awaited her.

"I'll be fine." She stretched on her toes and kissed his dimple. "Max is coming with us. I'm sure he will be armed to the teeth."

"I hope so." For a change, there was no note of jealousy in his tone at the mention of Max.

"You know, you can still change your mind and come along." She pulled out of his arms. "It would be fun to explore the city together."

He sighed. "I wish I could, but I have a virtual stack of final papers to grade, and each is about a hundred pages. It will take me weeks to go through them all."

"Poor baby." She cupped his cheek. "Well, good luck with that. I'm planning on having lots of fun with Kyra and her sisters."

"Are any of the girls joining you?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask Kyra when she called to invite me. I was too surprised by the gesture, but I assume that the girls are staying behind to watch their younger cousins."

Kyra had said that it was an opportunity for Fenella to get out of the village, and she knew how stifled Fenella felt about being cooped up in the small community.

The truth was that the urge to escape and disappear into anonymous crowds had subsided since she'd started her job at the Hobbit, but some of it was back after a whole day of inaction on Monday.

Well, there was the action in bed with Din, but that had only filled up a couple of hours.

She'd visited the gym, had taken a swim in the pool, and even checked out Ingrid's design center to see which houses were available, but none of that had been enough to stifle the simmering disquiet under her skin.

"Do you want me to walk with you to the parking structure?" Din offered.

"I know the way. Start on those papers, Professor."

When she got out of the elevator on the parking structure level that Kyra had indicated, Fenella immediately spotted the group of ladies clustered together right outside the entrance. Next to them, Max stood with another guy she didn't recognize, who was leaning against a pillar.

"Am I late?" Fenella said as she joined the group.

"You are right on time." Kyra patted her shoulder. "We are early because we are all excited. Jackson is picking us up with his van."

"Awesome." Fenella nodded at the sisters, still learning to match names to faces.

Soraya was the eldest, and the one she remembered most easily.

She nicknamed her the dragon mom. Yasmin was easy to identify by the grief that was etched in the lines around her eyes.

But she wasn't sure who Rana was and who Parisa was.

"Morning, Fenella," Max said. "Let me introduce you to Theo. He's going to accompany us today."

The guy dipped his head in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Fenella. I've heard so much about your readings at the Hobbit Bar."

She smiled. "You should come this weekend and bring an object. I'll do a reading for you."

Max cleared his throat. "We might leave for Egypt beforehand. I don't think that arrangement will take an entire week."

"Right." Her smile wilted.

Normally, she would have been super excited about a trip to a place she hadn't visited yet, but working at the Hobbit was satisfying in a way she hadn't experienced in any other job before.

She'd always loved bartending and everything that came with it, but her nightly performances and the attention and laughter they garnered kind of rounded the experience, turning the bartending from a job to a calling.

It was so silly to think of it that way. It wasn't like she was saving lives or making life-changing discoveries. But this was what made her happy, her little corner of the universe that she was the star of, where she shone.

"The Hobbit is not going anywhere," Theo said. "It will still be there when you return from Egypt."

"That's right." She gave him a smile. "And you should come then. By the way, why do we need two Guardians for a shopping trip? Are the wholesale markets really that dangerous?"

Max's lips quirked in a half-smile. "They're not, but Kian thought that the sisters would feel safer with an escort. They are a little skittish after what they've been through."

"Kian is just being overprotective," Rana said. "We are tougher than we look."

"We appreciate the gesture nonetheless," Soraya said with a glare at her sister.

As a large van pulled up in front of them, the driver's door opened to reveal a man who made Fenella's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

Even by immortal standards, he was devastatingly handsome—chiseled features, perfectly styled blond hair, and a smile that could cause traffic accidents.

Surprisingly, though, she felt no stirring of attraction even though his looks were precisely what she'd used to go gaga over.

Now, she appreciated his beauty in a detached way, like admiring a particularly well-executed piece of art.

Pretty to look at, certainly, but it stirred nothing in her belly.

That particular sensation seemed reserved exclusively for her professor.

"That's Jackson," Max said. "He's a prodigy, a self-made millionaire at twenty-three."

So young?

Wow, the guy was really something, but there was still nothing.

Jackson smiled. "Thank you for the glorious introduction." He opened the side sliding door. "Ladies, please take your seats."

"Fenella," she introduced herself, shaking Jackson's offered hand. "I'm tagging along to help carry bags and provide moral support."

"The more the merrier," Jackson said. "Help yourselves to the water bottles in the cooler."

They climbed into the van, the sisters taking the middle rows while Max and Theo claimed the back. Fenella slid in beside Kyra, who grabbed her hand and squeezed.

"Thank you for coming," Kyra said.

"Thank you for inviting me. I get antsy when I have nothing to do."

As Jackson pulled out of the parking structure, Rana leaned forward. "Do you know any Persian markets?"

Jackson glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"I have to admit that I'm not familiar with any.

My suppliers are wholesale operations. But let me find out.

" He pulled out his phone and activated the voice assistant.

"Please provide a list of Persian markets in the Los Angeles area, including locations and distance. "

The surprisingly pleasant female voice began listing options, and Jackson's eyebrows rose with each addition to the list. "Wow. There are quite a few." He glanced back at them. "I had no idea there were so many Persian supermarkets throughout the city."

"Arezoo says that Los Angeles has one of the largest Persian populations outside of Iran," Soraya said. "Apparently, many settled here after the revolution."

Fenella hadn't known that, but then the Persian diaspora hadn't been a subject of interest to her, even though her travels had somehow led her to Iran. She should have known better, but it was water under the bridge now.

"We want to see what's offered in those markets," Parisa said. "So we can emulate it in our store."

"We need spices that we can't find in the regular supermarket," Yasmin said. "Even for our own cooking at home."

"And the bread," Rana added with a dramatic sigh. "The bread here is nothing like home."

"Don't get her started on bread." Parisa chuckled. "She'll lecture you for an hour about the proper way to make sangak ."

"It's an art form!" Rana protested, which set off an argument among the sisters about various Persian breads that was accompanied by a lot of hand gesturing and bouts of laughter as they teased one another mercilessly.

It was enviable, and Fenella wished she had sisters to banter with like Kyra had. She could barely remember her brother, and even when she'd still lived at home, they hadn't been close.

"Wholesome Choice is one of the larger ones according to the reviews," Jackson said. "And it's not too far."

Agreement rippled through the van, and soon they were on the freeway, but Fenella couldn't tell in which direction they were heading. Not that it mattered. She watched the city roll by, marveling at how different it was from the isolated beauty and safety of the village.

There weren't many people on the sidewalks, actually almost none, but the vehicle traffic was heavy, and everything seemed to be moving at a fast pace.

"This is real life," Kyra commented quietly beside her. "The village seems like a utopian dream." She turned to Fenella. "Do you miss it?"

She chuckled. "We've only been gone for less than an hour, so no, I don't miss it yet."

Kyra punched her shoulder playfully. "I mean life on the outside, among humans."

Fenella considered the question. "Yeah, but seeing it now up close, I'm less nostalgic. Not that it's bad. The streets are clean and there are no beggars on every corner, but still. It's not the village."

Jackson snorted. "We are in the better parts of the city.

Some areas are drowning in trash, and drug addicts loiter on the streets.

Naturally, I wouldn't take you there, but you should know that they exist even here, in one of the richest cities in the world.

It's shameful, really, but it is what it is. "

When Jackson finally pulled into a sprawling parking lot, Fenella glanced at the facade of the market, which featured both English and Persian script. Colorful displays of fresh produce were visible through the large windows. It looked clean and well-organized.

"Here we are," Jackson announced. "Wholesome Choice Market."

Max and Theo exited first, doing a subtle but thorough scan of the parking lot before nodding to the ladies and offering them a hand to help them out of the van.

As they approached the entrance, the automatic doors slid open to reveal a produce section that made Rana gasp with delight.

Mountains of fresh herbs filled the air with fragrance—mint, basil, cilantro, and others Fenella couldn't identify.

Pomegranates were piled high in pyramids, along with citruses of all kinds.

"Oh, look!" Parisa rushed to a display of fresh figs. "When was the last time we had proper figs?"

"And dates," Soraya added, examining the variety with a critical eye. "These are Mazafati dates from Bam. The best kind."

The sisters dispersed through the produce section like children in a candy store, calling out discoveries to each other, while Max and Theo looked distressed because they couldn't keep up with all of them.

Fenella was happy with following Kyra as she trailed after her sisters with an indulgent smile.

" Torshi !" Yasmin exclaimed from an aisle filled with glass jars. "They have proper torshi !"

"What's torshi ?" Fenella asked.

"Pickled vegetables," Kyra said. "Every family has their own recipes. According to Soraya, our mother used to make the best torshi-e bademjan —pickled eggplant. She learned from her mother, who learned from hers and so on."

Jackson lingered behind, making notes on his phone as the sisters rattled off products they wanted to stock.

"This is unbelievable," he said to Soraya as she explained the different types of rice and their uses. "I had no idea there was such variety. My knowledge of Middle Eastern cuisine is limited."

"Persian cuisine," Rana corrected with a touch of heat. "It's distinct from Arab food, though people often confuse them."

"My apologies," Jackson said sincerely. "Please, educate me. I want to understand."

That seemed to be the right response. Rana launched into an explanation of Persian culinary traditions as they led him toward the spice section. In contrast, the others followed, which seemed to make Max and Theo happy because the sisters were all clustered together.

"Saffron," Parisa breathed, handling a small container with reverence. "Real saffron, not the fake stuff they try to pass off in regular stores. It's so expensive, though."

"What's the difference?" Theo asked.

"Oh, you poor, poor man," Soraya said with something approaching pity. "Let me show you."

What followed was an impromptu lesson in spices that was too much information for Fenella, and definitely for the Guardians, who had probably never cooked anything more elaborate than steak.

Max caught her eye and smiled. "They are so happy," he said quietly. "This is the first time I've seen them so animated."

"Food is home in a way that's deeper than geography."

"You're philosophical for a Tuesday morning," Max teased. "Is the professor rubbing off on you?"

"He is," she admitted with a grin. "All those deep conversations over coffee."

After the spice aisle, in which the sisters had lingered way too long, they moved on to a section dedicated to fresh bread, and the sisters nearly wept over the sangak . Then it was dried fruits and nuts, tea supplies, and elaborate containers of rose water and orange blossom water.

"We need to stock all of this," Yasmin said. "Not just for us, but for the others in the village who might want to try new things."

"You can post recipes on the clan's bulletin board," Jackson suggested.

Soraya beamed like Fenella had never seen before. "I'm inviting you and your wife to dinner. You have to taste my tahdig ."

"What's that?" Fenella asked.

"The crispy rice from the bottom of the pot," Parisa explained. "It's impossible to explain. You have to taste it to understand."

Jackson nodded. "I'm sure Tessa will be delighted to try your special dishes. I don't think she's familiar with them."