Page 7 of Shamrocks & Second Chances

I narrow my eyes at her. “Is it really a surprise, Crystal? Because I think you’ve been expecting me.”

Her perfect eyebrows rise slightly. “Oh? And why would that be?”

I pull the folded note from my pocket and hold it up. “Because someone left this at my café, and it has your perfume all over it.”

Crystal’s expression doesn’t change, but her fingers twitch slightly at her side—a tell I’ve learned to recognize over the years. She’s nervous. “Perhaps you should come inside,” she says, stepping back to allow me entry. “It’s rather chilly out tonight.”

The inn’s lobby is exactly as I remember it, with plush velvet furniture in deep jewel tones, antique wooden tables polished to a high shine, and crystal chandeliers that cast dancing shadows across the walls. A fire crackles in the massive stone fireplace, though I know the St. Johns don’t need the warmth.

Hecate immediately makes herself at home, hopping onto a crimson ottoman and curling into a ball. Traitor.

“Where’s Etienne?” I ask, scanning the room.

“Right here,” comes a smooth voice from behind me.

I spin around to find Etienne St. John standing at the base of the grand staircase. His pale skin seems to glow against his black suit, and his blue eyes watch me with amusement. Three hundred years old, and he still moves like a cat.

“You two are up to something,” I say, crossing my arms. “And I want to know what it is.”

Crystal glides across the room to stand beside her husband. They exchange a look that contains an entire conversation—the kind of silent communication that comes from centuries together.

“Would you care for some tea?” asks Crystal, deflecting.

“No, I would not care for tea. I want answers.” I hold up the note again. “Did you leave this at my café?”

Crystal sighs, a completely unnecessary gesture since vampires don’t breathe. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I was asked to.”

I tap my foot impatiently. “By whom?”

Crystal’s gaze meet mine steadily. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

My temper flares, and I feel my magic responding, crackling at my fingertips. The lights in the room flicker.

“Crystal, I don’t have time for games. Someone stole Seamus’s gold, and now there’s a trail of mysterious notes leading me around town. If you know something—”

“We’re not playing games, Bella,” Etienne interrupts, his voice calm and reasonable. “We’re simply...facilitating.”

“Facilitating what?”

“A journey,” says Crystal cryptically.

I groan in frustration. “You two are impossible. Fine. If you won’t tell me who asked you to leave the note, at least tell me what I’m supposed to do next.”

Etienne smiles, revealing just a hint of fang. “The next clue is in our library.”

I blink in surprise. “Your library? Why would it be there?”

“Because that’s where knowledge is kept,” she says, as if explaining something to a child. “And knowledge is what you seek.”

I roll my eyes. “Spare me the fortune cookie wisdom.”

He grins. “As you wish. Do you remember the way to the inn’s library?”

“I do.” I haven’t had time to visit in a couple of years, but I enjoyed discovering its charms...two years ago, when Seamus had booked a room there for a while during our time together. I gesture for Hecate, and we turn to walk down the hallway toward the small but elegantly appointed library technically for guests’ use but really open to everyone in town if they can’t find what they’re looking for at our municipal library.

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