“He dealt with grief by talking about it. He was always a very scientifically-minded young lad—had to find reasoning for most things in life, including the actions others took against him.” Arthur’s presence warmed my side before I saw him slowly appear next to me. “He told me once that he learned more about himself and the reasons he felt the agony of his suffering, by hearing other people talk about their own trials.”
I nodded. “Maybe that’s why he showed me—because I’d suffered so much. Maybe he was trying to help me deal with my suffering, do you think, by showing me what he’d come through?”
Arthur’s lips turned down with thought. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he wanted you to understand his brother—to know what you had gotten yourself into.”
“What do you mean by gotten myself into?”
“Those close to David knew a different side to him.” Arthur looked down at his clasped hands. “I feared for you when David told me he was in love with a sweet, human girl. I wondered on what twisted version of this planet God would allow such a match, but it seemed you brought out the best in him, not the worst.”
“Well, what was the worst?”
“It’s not relevant, my dear. Not now. I’m just thankful you loved the side of David I knew was in there somewhere.”
“I loved all of him.” I folded my arms. “I did see another side to him, from time to time,” I added, thinking about the day he nearly exploded over Pepper. “But he loved me, Arthur, and he was never harsh or cruel to me. I can’t believe there were two versions of him; this cruel boy who tormented his brother, and this sweet, loving boy who carried my books at school.”
“Well, there are two sides to anything in life, my dear. One does not have to understand to love, but must love to understand.”
I turned my head a little, a sarcasm-littered smirk twisting my lips. “Do you make those up on the spot?”
He frowned at me, growing taller. “Make what up?”
“Those lines? You could write quotes for the Dalai Lama.” I laughed lightly.
He gave a kind smile. “I came up with a good one this morning. Would you like to hear it?”
“Sure,” I said, pulling a pretend pencil from behind my ear to hold over an imaginary notepad. “Let me just jot it down.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “The branch of hatred is always grown from the seeds of greed and jealousy.”
I dropped my imaginary note-takers. “Meh, not that good.”
“Then, how ‘bout, ‘One cannot teach what must be learned—in order to give advice, you must be telling a person something they, deep down, already know.’”
“Wow.” My eyes lit up. “That’s pretty good. Very true.”
He nodded.
“So, is that what you do all day? Just sit around and dream up quotable quotes.”
His lip lifted on one corner with an easy grin. “No. I’m an Herbalist.”
“A what now?”
“See those plants there?” He pointed to his window.
“Yeah.”
“I grow them, not to look pretty in the light of the sun, but to use for medicinal purposes, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Yes, they have other uses, but my main area of focus is vampire medicine.”
“So, are you a doctor?”
He shook his head once. “I was. A long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
“When I was human. I’ve not practiced human medicine in my vampire existence, though—only herbology for vampire treatment.”
“Wow. So, does that work—you know, the whole mystical, alternative medicine thing?”
He chuckled. “Yes. In vampires, it does. I cannot speak for humans, though.”
“Why? I mean, why don’t you treat humans?”
“Never had the need.”
“Not even with Jason—when he was sick?”
He shook his head. “I would not have presumed to interfere with matters I knew nothing of. It had been many centuries since I was versed in the biology of the human body. To treat him may have been to kill him.”
“I’m surprised David didn’t ask you to treat him in that case, since he hated him so much.”
He nodded again, the daylight making shadows around his soft smile. “I sometimes wondered if much of David’s hatred for his brother was merely jealousy.”
I laughed. “Oh, definitely—as adults, anyway. I mean, I don’t know about when they were kids, but David even admitted he was jealous his brother could read vampire minds.”
“Did he now?” Arthur bounced on his toes once then sunk back down, seeming lighter. “Then he truly was a changed man.”
“Changed, huh?” I said to myself. “Was David really that bad? You talk like he was some kind of monster.”
Arthur looked down, cupping his hands behind his back. “Not a monster. He was good and kind, but had a manner about him that people did not mess with—not even those who loved him.”
“Why?”
“Because the good, kind man would become…something else.”
“Did you ever see that side of him?”
“I did. However, I was not once the target of his infuriation.”
“Why not?”
“I am a figure of authority—almost like a father. David’s interactions, his respect for me, differed to those who were peers or subordinates.”
“So, people were afraid of him?”
Arthur nodded once.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I know, and there are many stories I could tell, my dear, to make you see, but I’ll not speak ill of the dead.”
“I’m sure if David could go back, he’d do things differently—especially with Jason.”
“I’m sorry.” Arthur reached for my hand, holding it until I looked at him, his bright-blue eyes softening. “He did love his brother—David. For all they fought, I know, deep in his heart, he never felt what his father did.”
“Why did his father hate Jason so much?”
Arthur straightened. “He lost his wife. She went into her room to give birth, and when the doctor opened the door, he handed Thomas two boys and a firm hand of apology. That was that. She was breathing one minute, gone the next. And there were few advances in medical science to confirm the cause of her death. He was left to believe myths, wives-tales, uneducated ideas that ruined the heart of this man, because he loved his wife so deeply he could not find reason why God would take her, except that it was the devil’s doing.”