Palm of Destiny by Rebecca Segal

to die, isn’t that proof enough of what he has planned for us? I told you, he’s the one who sent those assassins after us. He’s the one who killed Ang and my father. And he’s going to take us out, too, if we don’t stop him.”
He let her go and threw his hands into the air. “Listen to yourself. He didn’t even know your father. He barely knows you and has no idea where you even live. The way you’re talking, Rosalie, it’s…it’s crazy!”
“You can’t know that. Ang knew where I lived, and she knew my father. Plus Morgan runs a magic shop.”
“What does that have to do with anything??”
“What if he’s some black arts, cultist, and occult, dark magic user guy? It really would explain a lot, Elijah.”
Elijah blinked a few times, then shook his head and grabbed her by the forearm. He headed toward the door, pointing with his other hand. “We’re leaving, come on. This is just getting ridiculous.”
“Wait, we should look for the pendant.” Rosalie was whispering so low that he could barely hear her. “He said he had it, remember?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger and shook his head. “No… we’re going.”
“No, he was lying.”
“Get off it, Rosalie, seriously. He didn’t kill her, and he didn’t send those guys after us. That’s not…it’s…Morgan’s not like that, okay?”
There was a stubborn set to her jaw right before she turned on her heel. Rather than head toward the exit, she stormed off toward the antique section instead. Letting out a quiet groan, Elijah reluctantly followed her. By the time he arrived in the antique section, she was already turning toward him. Her right hand was hovering in front of her face. From the fingers of that hand hung a thin gold chain. It had a soft appearance to it, like it could be crushed with too much pressure between her fingers. The pendant attached to that chain was the color of pale amber, and it was lined with small golden leaves.
“This—”
“No.” Elijah interrupted her, letting out a whoosh of air in relief. “That isn’t the pendant. The one in my vision was darker than that. And the gold was actually real instead of… whatever that is. That’s just a plastic bead the color of amber, it’s not…” He drifted off, words failing him as he spotted a tiny glow growing in the middle of the pendant. At first he thought that it was light coming through from the window behind Rosalie, but the angle was all wrong. Besides, it was growing brighter and brighter by the moment. Elijah suddenly knew with a surge of dread that it wasn’t just any pendant; but it wasn’t the one from his vision, either. Was it possible that Morgan had planted a pendant, knowing that they were going to look? If that was the case, then Rosalie was right…about everything.
“Drop it.” His voice was harsh. Painfully so. “Rosalie, drop it!”
“I can’t!” Fear was mounting in her voice, expressed in the wideness of her eyes.
The explosion of light blinded them both. It encompassed the entire room, growing brighter and brighter until it gave off a heated flash. It ebbed away after that flash, but the room glowed a smooth, unnatural orange. The hard thud of running boots sounded from the other side of the store, getting closer. Morgan burst inside the antique area several seconds later, his visage carrying more of a perplexed expression than a worried one. What he saw turned that perplexity into slow, knowing smile:
The room was empty.
    * * * *
“Already told you. I came into the back room here, where the antiques are, and they were gone.” Morgan had his arms folded across his chest, and a frown was hanging on his mouth. The rest of his expression was pinched, like he was trying to hold back anger. He was standing in the antique section of his shop, and although it was Monday afternoon, he had been told by the local authorities to keep it closed.
It was now a crime scene, at least temporarily. And he, apparently,