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This one was far more dangerous, as the walls of Kilmorran kept most of the riffraff at bay but tonight she would be exposed, out in the elements calling to him. He debated on telling her this was a silly notion—a dangerous one. As tedious as the tiles were, they allowed them to talk.

If tonight went poorly, there was no telling what she could bring through the veil. Storms brought all sorts of creatures with them—hungry wraiths, poltergeists, spirits who wished harm on the living.

He’d become a bastion at Kilmorran, a way to keep the halls safe and protected.

There was no telling what would creep through the doors when—if—he ever crossed over.

It was a small mercy, he supposed.

This endless existence was not exactly for nothing.

She kept his picture tucked in her pocket. It warmed the empty spaces in his chest to see it. He’d been living in the pages of a book for so long it was nice to be known. Carted around from place to place. He felt her wherever she was. When she was in town, just how far she was on her walks. If he managed to grow stronger, he could follow her.

She packed away a few of his journals to take tonight, wrapping them each in cloth and then putting them in water-proof bags.

There was one other item tethering him to this place, one thing he had carried with him until his dying day.

He moved toward the table and rearranged the tiles, cursing as his fingers slipped and slid over each of them.

S-T-U-D-Y.

There.

At least he remembered how to spell.

That was certainly something.

Finally, Avery looked up from her bag and read the word. Her face was so expressive. Every furrow of her brow, the hitch in her mouth, the way her eyes dimmed and lightened with each word he painstakingly put together. Her hair was down today, falling in her face.

He itched to touch it, to brush it away.

What would it feel like, he wondered?

What would any of her feel like?

“Study? What for?”

“Christ, you have a lot of questions. Let’s just go, and I’ll show you, yes?”

She came to her feet and waited a beat. When no answer came, she started walking. He liked that she was intuitive, seemingly able to read the leagues between them like they were a bedtime story.

Speaking of stories…

That…that filth she’d read out loud the other night had truly scandalized him. He’d never heard a woman say words like that before. Never heard anyone laugh in utter delight like that, either. Those words were meant for the bedroom, where he could whisper them in an ear or against the skin of a throat. Not…not in a book.

Was this what she wrote?

Her book was still on her bedside table.

As soon as he was able, as soon as he was strong enough, he would read it.

He wanted to see what secrets lived inside the mind of Avery Eden. If her imaginings were as…salacious as what she’d read to him last night.

He followed her into the study and moved to one of the shelves on the right. He knocked patiently against the glass, the small sound echoing in the room. She crossed toward him and opened the cabinet door.

“Well?” she called. “What am I looking for?”

“You certainly have a mouth on you, don’t you?” he murmured, staring at the mouth in question.