My face tightened. Maybe I had been violating a private area of her house, but I had a right to know about my mother. "But it's not really your decision to make," I argued. "I mean, she was my mother. Her Book of Shadows should be mine. That's what you're supposed to do with Books of Shadows, pass them down to your children. It is mine."

Selene blinked at my strong words. She glanced at Cal again, but he was looking at me. Once more my fingers tingled as they traced the book's worn leather cover.

"So why do you have it?" I repeated.

"I got it by accident," Selene said. A fleeting smile crossed her face. "Though of course most witches don't believe in accidents. My hobby is collecting Books of Shadows—really, I collect almost any book having to do with witchcraft, as you can see." She waved an elegant hand at the shelves in the room. "I work with several dealers, mostly in Europe, who have standing orders to send me whatever books they have of interest—any Book of Shadows, no matter what its condition. I find them fascinating. I take them with me wherever we go and set them up in a private study, as I did here when we moved in this past summer. To me, they're a window into the human side of the craft. They're diaries, records of experiments; they're people's histories. I have over two hundred Books of Shadows, and Maeve Riordan's is just one of them."

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. Her response sounded strangely voyeuristic—especially from a high priestess, someone who was otherwise so in touch with people's feelings. Why couldn't she see that Maeve Riordan's book wasn't just another Book of Shadows? At least not to me.

My initial guilt and nervousness were giving way to anger. Selene had read my mother's private words. But right then Cal stepped across the room and put his hand on my shoulder, rubbing gently. He seemed to be saying he was on my side, that he understood. So why couldn't his mother? Did she think I was too much of a child to handle my mother's secrets?