"If he has computers here, or any type of files, I want to see them." "You won't find anything like that here," she said, simply stated fact. "Wilhelm does all of his personal business from the Hamburg Darkhaven and an office he keeps in the city... as far as I know. We've never discussed his business affairs." Reichen grunted, unsurprised. He was already moving past another room off the hallway, glancing in at the casually sophisticated furnishings of a living room, then passing by an intimate ballroom that seemed a cavern of mirrored walls, polished parquet flooring, and a creamy, elegantly carved ceiling. In back was an ebony grand piano, its multiple reflections gleaming in all the surrounding polished glass. "Good to see some things haven't changed," he muttered. Claire glanced into the ballroom but looked confused. "The piano," he said. "You have a gift for music, as I recall." Her frown faltered slightly as she stared at him. "Oh, I don't... I haven't played in a long time. I suppose I got busy with other, more important things. Music isn't really a part of my life anymore." "No, I guess not," he said, aware of how caustic it sounded. "Is there anything left of you that I would remember, Claire?" A long silence spread between them. Reichen expected her to walk away, or maybe run away, out the front door and into the daylight where he couldn't follow. But she stood her ground, pierced him with her deep brown eyes. Tenacious as ever. "How dare you. I didn't ask you to storm into my life and tear it apart, but here you are. I don't have to explain anything to you, or justify where life has taken me." No, she didn't, and he knew he was being unfair here. Having those answers wasn't going to bring him any closer to Wilhelm Roth, either. Not that any of those arguments meant a damn thing when Claire was just an arm's length away from him and seething with an anger he'd seldom seen in her but rightly deserved. "We both moved on, didn't we, Andre?" "You certainly did." "What did you expect me to do? You were the one who left, remember?"
He thought about the abrupt way he'd left things with her: unfinished, unexplained. He thought about his reasons, ironically none of which mattered anymore. Certainly not after what had happened last night. "I couldn't stay." "You couldn't even tell me why? One day we were together and the next you were gone without a word." "I had things to work out," he said. God, he hated that he was still able to feel the punch of uncontainable fear--of shock and overwhelming self-revulsion--that had forced him to run away from everything and everyone he knew and loved. After what happened to him the last time he saw Claire, he'd had no choice but to leave her. He hadn't wanted to harm her, and he couldn't trust himself to be near her, or near anyone, until he'd managed to control the horrific power that had been awakened in him for the first time all those years ago. By that time, he had already lost her to Roth. He gave her a negligent shrug. "I did come back, Claire." "More than a year later," she replied curtly "Or so I heard, after friends in the Darkhavens told me you had finally turned up, back in Berlin again." She shook her head, regret shining in her gaze. "I didn't think you would ever come back." "So you didn't wait."
"Did you give me any reason to?" "No," he said, letting the word slide slowly off his tongue. There was more he wanted to say, things he probably owed her to say, but it was all pointless talk now. Claire was right. They'd both moved on. They'd both lived very separate lives, and despite the fact that those lives were converging now, in violence and bloodshed, nothing he could say would change a thing about the past or what might have been. He was here for one reason: to avenge the wrong that Wilhelm Roth had delivered on him. Reichen started walking again. Claire trailed him, hanging back now as though she didn't want to get too close. "What are you doing?" "I told you. Looking for any intel on your mate's whereabouts." "And I told you--you won't find anything of his here. This is my home, not his." Reichen heard the peculiar comment but he