Page 47 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Rory laughed. “Yes. But not because it’s driving to an old book collection on a Friday night. It’s getting to spend time with you, whatever that is.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact and earnest. Max couldn’t doubt his sincerity, though he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole mate thing. But Rory hadn’t been pushy about it. Instead, he simply seemed genuinely happy with whatever time they spent together.

Max was used to people having more ambitious goals—and to them becoming annoyed with Max when his goals weren’t as lofty. Especially with normal people at school, stating that he was planning to go back home and work with his parents at their bookshop had apparently been incredibly underwhelming. It wasn’t even like Max had envisioned being in charge of the shop. Back then, he’d expected he’d have decades more with his parents.

But he was a Spellreader, and he’d studied with his mother, and it had always seemed obvious that was where he was going to end up. He hadn’t desired big and lofty things, certainly not the fame or fortune that was common. Staying under the radar was still the best defense for witches and shifters.

So if Max wasn’t particularly ambitious, why did he think that Rory should have to want more?

“I’m glad you’re happy with what you’re doing right now,” Max said carefully. “It’s been good to have you here.” He cleared his throat. “The cookies in the shop are awesome.”

Rory laughed softly, sounding fond. Max kept his eyes on the road. “I’m glad you enjoy them. I know the people who want more and more and more are often the loudest, but there’s something very satisfying about figuring out how to be happy with what you have. And if the situation you find yourself in is exactly what you want, well… there’s simply no way to be anything but happy.”

Max was pretty sure that people figured out ways to be unhappy all the time, in every sort of circumstance, but it was equally obvious that wasn’t how Rory functioned. He’d spent a decade as a bird, then fallen into Max’s life—literally—and taken to working in a bookshop like he’d been born to do it. If Max had been a teacher, would he have become a teaching assistant? Or a firefighter or an accountant or an astronaut?

Max had a weird feeling that the answer to that question was “yes,” which was ridiculous (and impractical), and yet…

Was this fate? Was that why Rory seemed to be so well-suited to the life that Max was living? Why he didn’t have family or friends or a life that might conflict with Max’s own?

Or was that simply chance? Was Max reading into random circumstances precisely because Rory had introduced the idea of fate? Was it like suddenly seeing babies everywhere if you were expecting, or noticing white cars because you’d just bought one?

Could fate actually be playing a role, but Max had never noticed it before? He grimaced. But did that mean his parents had been fated to die? Because that idea was just awful.

But no, Rory hadn’t been saying that everything in the world was fated, just that magic seemed to know when two people were compatible, when they had an excellent chance of being together… if they chose to take that chance. No one and nothing was trying to compel Max to do anything—or even if they were, Rory had made the decision to be totally hands off. He wasn’t trying to lure Max into anything, which wouldn’t have worked anyway. Was he, in fact, doing the thing most likely to work on Max? But was that because they were fated or because they were compatible and so they actually fit together?

Max’s head had started to hurt, and it was almost a relief when the GPS announced, “Your destination is on the left.”

Chapter Ten

Rory

Road safety was clearly very important to Max, and distracted driving was dangerous, so Rory had been careful to try not to bother him. He was glad Max had felt comfortable telling him about what had happened to his parents, but he really wished Max hadn’t had such an experience in his past. Losing people wasn’t easy, and losing them young was the worst. Max should have had decades more happy memories with his parents, and instead, he’d been without them for almost fifteen years.

But if there was one thing Rory had learned over his very long life, it was that you couldn’t predict what the future would bring. It was part of why Rory had gotten so good at going with the flow.

Only now the flow had brought Rory to Max, and Rory wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of the two of them being together—in whatever way Max wanted—unless it was Max himself who wanted Rory to leave. Thus far, at least, that didn’t seem to be the case. As far as Rory could tell, he was happy that Rory was there, and that made Rory feel good.

Rory was also delighted that he’d been able to arrange this, even if it had been kind of accidental. As he looked up at the imposing gates, he hoped it was going to end well.

Max buzzed at the entrance, and they were promptly let in, which was a good start. Even though it was after ten, they’d clearly been expected. As they passed through the gate, Rory felt the wash of spells pass over them, showing that the grounds were protected by more than mundane means.

Max shivered, and the gates closed behind them. This late at night, it almost felt like they were driving into a tunnel, with trees on either side of the road stretching up over their heads. In daylight or with a full moon, there’d be a lot more to see, but on an overcast night, everything just felt… close.

Finally, they emerged from the trees to find a huge house looming. It had columns and balconies and what Rory was pretty sure were a lot of windows, though it was hard to tell for sure in the dark.

“That’s really big,” Rory observed.

Max snorted. “Yeah, Mr. Jones used a lot of money to acquire all his books. He comes from old money, and his family owns some company or other. I didn’t pay much attention.” He peered around them. “Where do you think we’re supposed to park?”

“Oh!” Rory said, suddenly remembering what the secretary had told him over the phone. “Around the back on the right there’s a place for staff to park.”

Max followed Rory’s instructions, and they were soon walking up to the side entrance, bags clasped in their hands.

Max reached out to press the button for the doorbell but paused as he looked over at Rory. “You want to do it?”

Rory grinned at him and gleefully pressed the doorbell.

Whoever had invented buttons was very clever.