Book of Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page A

stopper, removing it as a long spear of glass slid out. He dabbed off the excess oil, lifting it to my nose.
    “Close your eyes, Jane.”
    I shut them, the smile still adorning my lips.
    “Breathe deep, and tell me what this reminds you of.”
    I slowly drew in a careful breath, not wanting the unknown fragrance to overwhelm my senses. It was delicate at first, a sharp tingle, lightly coated in a sweet frost. It was summer in a bottle, happiness and life. I opened my eyes, flooding my vision with the ocean of his eyes.
    “It reminds me of…” I couldn’t decide just what it was, but it felt like home—like me. I caressed the cool glass, wanting to surround myself with the sensation the smell gave me.
    “It’s rose and tea leaf.” He placed the stopper back into the bottle, allowing me to continue to hold it.
    “I love it,” I declared, and it was the truth.
    “I knew you would.” His hands crept around my waist, his fingers resting on my spine, pulsing energy into the root of my nerves.
    “Where did you get it?” The bottle felt fluid in my hands, refreshing and clean.
    Max turned away from me. “In Winter Wood.”
    “Winter Wood?” I tilted my head, my brows furrowed. “Where’s that?”
    “It’s here, but at the same time it’s anywhere but here.” There was a sense of longing in his voice, telling me it was a place he hadn’t been in a while.
    “Here? Where?”
    Max ignored my question. “The alchemist had a shop there once. It’s where I got this.”
    I looked back at the bottle. “So it’s old?” It sounded like an insult. “I mean, not old, but…”
    Max placed his hand over my mouth, urging me to listen, not talk. “Very old, but I got it for you all the same.”
    I looked at the bottle again. It didn’t seem old at all. The scent was still crisp and new, like freshly picked roses and budding tea leaves. I pulled his hand away from my lips. “What do you mean? If it’s old, then surely you didn’t get it for me.”
    Max’s finger grazed the skin from my mouth to my chin, directing my gaze to look at him instead of the bottle. “I did get it for you.”
    “How?” I protested. “Explain.” I’d grown tired of his vague responses.
    Max bit his lip, apprehension in his eyes. “I’m afraid that reason will scare you.”
    I frowned. “Then why show it to me at all? Why even say that? You had to know I’d ask about it if you say it like that.” Annoyance loaded my voice.
    His lips cracked and a half smile emerged.
    I laughed. “Max, it won’t scare me. I love you, remember?”
    He lifted his brow. “And I you, but this is… this is just…”
    “What?” I pressed.
    He cleared his throat. “Obsessive?”
    I drew in a long breath, seeing what he meant by the fear in his eye. The thing about Max was that I knew he loved me, and I knew he obsessed over me, though I didn’t want him to necessarily show that, let alone admit to it—that made it more real somehow. My attitude toward the situation changed and I suddenly wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know the story at all, but not knowing it would surely eat me alive. How could he start off with a word like that— obsessive —and expect me not to want to know the story?
    I rolled the options around in my head. “I still want to know.” I’d settle for the facts. It was going to come out eventually.
    Max stared at me for a long time, weighing his options. He was trying to read my thoughts though I’d learned to guard against his invasion, along with the help of the ring he’d given me. His lips finally parted, and his story took form. “A long time ago, I was severely depressed by my… condition. ” He looked at the tattoos on his arms. “I was walking through Winter Wood, and came across the alchemist’s apothecary with the thought heavy on my mind. I told Patrick about my troubles, and well, he gave me a Truth.”
    “What’s a Truth ?”I said quickly.
    He chuckled, disregarding my disruption. “Well, I