There was no one here. All the desks were empty, even the lamps were turned down low, so the light was barely there, almost romantic. Renwick put down the books on the table, with a loud thump noise. He put his hands on his back and stretched a little.
“Those were heavy,” he told her. “So, what exactly are you looking for?”
“I have a paper on Rasputin,” Mina replied. “I need to know everything about him, including the little known facts.”
“Lemme see…”
He wandered through the room, looking for something only he knew where to find. He stood on his tiptoes and reached a book on the highest shelf. Mina was surprised to see how far his arms could stretch. He got the book, then handed it to her but not before blowing on it a little and raising a cloud of dust.
“Sorry, it’s been a while since anyone used it,” he apologized.
“Thanks,” she smiled, feeling relieved that the tension between them was left in the dark hallways.
“So, why him?” he wondered.
“Oh, there was a list of people we needed to choose from, so I just chose the name that appealed to me the most.”
“Again, why?” he repeated his question kindly.
“Well, I always wondered if all those things they claim he did were true, and, his death...”
“His death?” he repeated, surprised.
“Yes, the way he died, you know. The cyanide poisoning which didn’t work, the three gun shot wounds, one of which was straight in the forehead, and then dropping him off a bridge…”
“Oh, that!” Renwick laughed. “That was just child’s play. You know he didn’t die, right?”
“Didn’t die?” she asked, in shock. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he explained. “He didn’t die. He was a warlock. A very powerful one. I mean, why else do you think the cyanide laced cookies and wine didn’t harm him? And he got up from three gun shots and attacked Felix, the man responsible for this?”
Mina had to admit, she never even considered this possibility. After all, there was a body. Photos even.
“But, okay, not many people know this. First, they kept it a secret. Then, years later, he emerged somewhere, and they discovered his real identity.”
“But, he’d be about 150 years old by now!”
“So?” Renwick gave a dismissive half-shrug. “You know vampires, witches and warlocks can live much longer than that.”
Mina knew this, but she never actually met anyone who was older than 100. Kellam had told her of a few guys who were born two centuries ago but she always thought that was a bit exaggerated. Now, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Trust me, you’ll find everything you need in this baby,” he tapped the book in her hands, then smiled. “I guess I’d better leave you to it then.”
“Um, listen…” she started, before he got the chance to disappear.
“Yes?”
His eyes were deep, piercing right through her. It was like he was trying to see behind the mask she was wearing and guess who she really was. For a second, she was frightened that he would actually manage to do it.
“Thanks,” she muttered, barely audibly.
“What?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure if he really didn’t hear her or he just pretended. The grin on his face could mean either.
“Thanks,” she repeated, a little louder this time. She really meant it.
“For?”