The Queen of Swords was Olivia’s card. Bright, perceptive, intuitive, independent—it fit her perfectly. As did the reverse position, the more negative qualities that could slide to the fore in the wrong situation—cold-hearted, critical, cynical. The Knight of Wands was Ricky Gallagher. Energy, passion, action, adventure—those were the traits that guided the knight, and from what she’d seen, the card fit Ricky. Reversed, it meant he had a tendency to be easily frustrated, to act in haste. As for the King of Wands, that suggested a process of evolution—that Ricky was becoming a leader, someone with vision and honor, the reverse retaining that impulsiveness and adding a streak of ruthlessness.

She should seize on that last one. Ruthlessness. A sign of evil, was it not? Sadly, no. There was nothing wrong with ruthlessness. It was a trait she admired, and the only way for a young man like Ricky to come into his own.

Good cards, both of them. Excellent, in fact. Which was the problem. She wanted something minor for Ricky, something forgettable, a sign that he himself was inconsequential. But a knight evolving into a king? Not inconsequential at all.

Rose put the King of Wands aside, flipped over so she wouldn’t have to look at it. Then she cut through the deck until she found the card she wanted. The King of Pentacles, symbolizing control, power, security, and discipline. Reversed, it suggested a tendency to be controlling, authoritative, domineering. Gabriel’s card.

She smiled at the austere and foreboding figure on the front. She laid it beside the Queen of Swords with a snap of satisfaction, stepped back, and . . .

Her grandmother’s voice sounded at her shoulder. You can’t do that, Rosie. It doesn’t work that way.

But this is what I want.

I know, but you can’t force the cards to come. You can put them there, but what do you feel when you look at them?

Rose looked at the two cards on the counter. They did work together. Her gut said they did. But her gaze kept drifting to that discarded King of Wands.

Damn it.

If fifty years with the sight had taught her anything, it was exactly this. She could use her gift to manipulate circumstances and guide people down a path, but ultimately, they made their own choices.

At the creak of a floorboard, she glanced into the hall to see that Gabriel had arrived. He was standing outside the open parlor door, tucked back into the shadows as he watched Olivia with Ricky. His face was impassive, but she could see the turmoil in his eyes, the hesitation in his stance, as if he wanted to back up and walk away. Run away.

Goddamn it!