She wasn’t the woman she’d been. She never would be again. That girl had died with Balien. Maybe now that Max had found this haven and taken away her last hiding place, she would have to move on. Maybe it was better that she lose this sanctuary.
You keep looking for the same feeling you lost, but you won’t find it because it was never the building.
He was right. Max was right. She simply didn’t know where else to go.
Renata wiped her eyes and walked to the cold storage. There was cured sausage and cheese to eat, along with a loaf of bread she’d cooked yesterday. She’d eat a little bit and set out the rest for Max when he returned from exploring the caves. He was a curious man—it was one of the things she loved about him—and Renata suspected he could spend days just reading the spells along the walls. She didn’t need to read them. She’d spent two hundred years reading them and hoping they’d give her peace. They hadn’t. She doubted she’d ever find peace again.
Max returned from the caves while she was reading a book by the fire.
“There is food set out in the kitchen,” she said quietly, not looking up.
“Thank you.” He didn’t go to the kitchen. He crossed the living room and sprawled on the couch, forcing his head into her lap. “That library must have been remarkable.”
She put her book down, knowing he took pleasure in distracting her. “It was.”
“Has no one come back in over two hundred years? No one even came looking for the scrolls?”
“Maybe.” She combed her fingers through Max’s thick blond hair. It was wavy—almost curly—and shone gold in the firelight. “I didn’t return to this place for over one hundred years. Someone might have been back before that, but they would have seen everything gone.”
“Not everything.” He grabbed her hand. Kissed her palm. “I can still feel so much joy in that place. The magic in the walls is still vibrant.”
Renata closed her hand, curling her fingers into her palm. “I only feel pain. Loss.”
“There are both. Pain and joy. That is life. There’s something in the tunnels I want you to—”
“Don’t make me go back there.” She sighed. “Max, I know I can’t get rid of you, but can you just…”
“What?”
“Let me be.” She closed her eyes. “Just let me be. Ignore me. You are welcome to stay here and rest. Explore the library as much as you want. Eat my food. But let me be. If you need to, pretend I’m not here.”
He nipped the heel of her hand with his teeth. “Well, that would be idiotic.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t come here for a quiet mountain getaway, Reni. I didn’t come to explore a library. I came for you.”
“You came to prove you could find me. To prove that you’re a better tracker than I am.”
Max flipped, grabbed Renata by the waist, and pulled her under his body. The move was so fluid she blinked, and he was leaning over her, his shoulders so broad he blocked the light.
“You think you know why I came here?”
She couldn’t not react. He was too vital. Too desirable. Too much of everything she admired.
“We aren’t this,” she said. “We never were.”
He cocked his head. “Where have you been the past eighteen years?”
Running away from you.
“I’ve been living my life, Max. A life that you’ve only ever touched the edges of.”
“I know I don’t know everything about you. That’s what makes it fun. I don’t mind secrets, because I like finding answers.”
“Oh? And what happens when you find everything? You move on to the next challenge?”
“I might if I didn’t think the woman I was chasing didn’t have a thousand new ways to surprise me.” Max leaned down, his lips inches from hers. “Is this your argument, Reni? Is this the best you’ve got? Do you really think I’m going to get bored? That’s insulting to both of us. Is that the excuse you’ve been using all this time? That I have a short attention span?”
No. When Max was on a hunt, his failing was extreme focus, not short attention span.
Renata said, “I think you don’t know what it means to be in a relationship. It’s not all chases and excitement.”
“We have a relationship. Don’t fool yourself. And we did just fine in Vienna. It wasn’t all chases and excitement there. It was long days and frustrations and bitching about our bosses, as the humans say. Guess what? Still wasn’t bored, Renata. I still wanted more.”
Damn her heart. “You’re right. You should have more.” She gently shoved him to the side and stood. “I need to put the bread in the oven.”
She let him stay in her room that night. It would have been pointless to have him sleep downstairs when she’d end up beside him eventually. Max didn’t gloat. He simply moved his backpack up to her room and made himself at home, as if it was his right.
It was far too easy to fall into the familiar patterns they’d begun to establish in Vienna. She knew what side of the bed he liked and how affectionate he was in the morning. He dropped off to sleep quickly at the end of the day but would laze in bed every morning, given the chance. She knew he was fastidious about brushing his teeth and would wake at the slightest sound in the night, slide on his boots, and be halfway to the door before she opened her eyes.
He was sleeping with his arm around her waist, one leg thrown over hers as if trying to keep her in place. Renata was not sleeping at all. There’d been something in the caves earlier that had caught her attention, but she’d been too distracted by having Max there to pay attention.
“Bread.” She glanced at Max, but he didn’t wake.
The smell of fresh bread had been in the tunnels. She was sure of it. She’d dismissed it initially because she assumed what she’d caught a hint of was herself. She’d been baking so much that week it was an easy mistake to make. But the smell in the tunnels was too fresh. She hadn’t baked that morning, not until she’d left the caves.
Gently, she lifted Max’s arm and slid out from under his hold. He shifted, pressed his face into her pillow, then let out a long sigh. Renata walked to the door and opened it, grateful that the caretaker regularly oiled the hinges. She walked downstairs, wrapping a woolen shawl around her, and put on her boots before she made her way down the hall. She grabbed a flashlight this time. She didn’t want to use magic when she was trying to examine a scene.
Renata slowly walked through the reading room and down the hall, opening her senses to her surroundings.
Nothing. The library was as cold and lifeless as a grave.
Has no one come back?
She didn’t want this place filled with voices again. Didn’t want new songs to fill the hall. It would have seemed as irreverent as a feast on a grave.
Renata walked back to the children’s tunnels and paused at the entrance, sure she didn’t want to follow through but certain this was the place where she’d caught the scent earlier in the day. It was gone now, but she could swear she heard the stomp of running feet and the sound of childish laughter.
Relentless curiosity won out over the ghosts.