Page 41 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

"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 hisreasonable 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. "Itdoesn'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.

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