“About Jason’s lab? Yes.” He walked across to the planters opposite us. “And I hear celebrations are in order.”
“Yup. Lighthouse party.” I turned to watch him. “So, you’ll come?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great. So—” I looked around. “Where’s your lab?”
He tapped his foot on the ground a few times. “You’re standing on it.”
I stepped back as though I really were actually standing on a lab, and not a dirt floor.
“We used some of the attic space,” he explained. “Would you like to see it?”
“Um, not just now.” I waved a politely dismissive hand. “I uh. . .”
He drew a loud breath, but kept working like I wasn’t even there, letting it out with, “You want something.”
“Um, yeah.” I leaned against the table. “I wanted to ask you about why you came here.”
“Here?”
“Not to the greenhouse, but I heard that when you signed on to this whole “Project Kill Drake”, the reward you were seeking was. . .”
He stiffened a little, standing straight. “You’ve spoken with Morgaine.”
“Yeah.” I took a step closer. “Arthur, I—”
“You’ve nothing to worry about, my dear.” He turned and lay a firm hand to my shoulder—that gentle reassurance only he seemed able to give with just a simple touch. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know. She told me you’d changed your mind, and—”
“I haven’t changed my mind about anything, Amara.” He picked up the scissors and began trimming the plant again. “I still want to die. But I won’t. I promised David I would be your eternal guardian.”
The regret in his tone sent an arrow into my chest. “Why do you want to die, Arthur?”
“Vampires love eternally, my dear. And no matter how many remedies I mix—” He motioned around the greenhouse. “I can’t mix one for a broken heart.”
I swallowed hard, nodding to hide the rush of tears in my eyes. “So, you still love her—Arietta—so deeply after all this time?”
“No,” he said simply. “Despite the absence of her soul from this world, I am sure I love more each passing day.”
My hand moved to rest on my heart, barely containing the ache that wanted to consume me. “Then why did you promise David you’d stay alive?”
“Because I know the pain you will suffer without him.” He looked sideways at me for just a second. “And I will be here to make sure you never go to join him.”
“Why? If I’d be happier dead, why would you stop me?”
“Same reason you’d stop me, Amara.” He laid the scissors down again and walked slowly over, placing one hand then the other on my arms, gripping firmly. “Where there is life, there is hope. And you are the hope of many. I cannot let that die.”
“But I’m sad for you, Arthur.”
“Don’t waste your thoughts on me, Amara. I’m an old man, and I can do enough worrying for myself.”
“I know.” I reached out and toyed aimlessly with a leaf. “But, I just want you to be happy.”
“For what it’s worth—” He smiled lovingly down at me. “I am. You make me happy.”
“Aw, Arthur.” I felt my cheeks flush a little. “You’re too nice to have suffered so much.”
He laughed through his nose, turning away again to go about his business. “Sufferance does not befall the ungracious, princess; it presents itself to he who knows love and happiness, because without those, one cannot suffer.”
“What if there was a way?” I said, running my thumb down the leaf repeatedly. I wasn't sure how he’d react to this, but I had to at least ask.
“A way to what?”
“What if there was a way to reverse death, her death?”
He didn’t show it, didn’t make it obvious, but he wasn’t down with it. Not one bit. All he said, in a calm voice, was “Men must not dig where gods lay stones.”
“But you must have at least thought about it? Even once.”
“Of course I have. What man wouldn’t? But it’s not right, Amara. Deliberate reincarnation, it . . . it’s against the laws of nature, and God.”
“Not necessarily.”
His stern gaze met mine. “What have you found?”
“It’s not the same spell Drake uses, Arthur—” I held back for a second. If I told him what I found in the Book of Shadows, there was a very real chance he might stop me from using it. “It’s something else.”
His lips folded inward, making a stern line.
“It’s a spell written by Lilith, we think. I found it in Morgana’s Book of—”
“Amara, you must not meddle in the—”
“But I have magic.” I held my hand up. “You said it yourself. You said all immortal beings, all born immortals have magic of a kind.”
“Yes, of a kind. That does not mean you can perform witchcraft.”
“Why not? Drake can.”
“Drake?” He laughed and turned away, propping his hands on the counter in front of him. “Drake has no soul, Amara. And it is witchcraft that turned it to ash.”
“Arthur, what if it didn’t have to be that way? What if I could use white magic to bring things back to life?”
“There is no magic that can bring things back to life, my girl.” He spun around, his voice grumbling with rage in the back of his throat. “It’s the Devil’s work: trickery. You might think you hold the power, but when you cross those boundaries, you open floodways for darker things, and I can’t protect you from those.”
“This spell I found, Arthur—” I took a step closer, looking up into his bright blue eyes. “It’s . . . it originally came from Aide-Memoire de l’Auress,” I lied.
Arthur went to speak, but his mouth just sat slightly open, caught on his words.
“There’s a page missing from the back. I lined them up perfectly, Arthur. I know it’s Lilith’s spell. I can feel it.” I touched my heart.
He sniffed once. “Do you have it on you?”
“I’m not that stupid. I know you’ll take it from me.”
He smiled. “Then you know me well.”
“I do,” I said, taking a very casual stroll around the plant tables. “But you don’t know me, not like you think you do. I’m not as dumb as I pretend to be.”