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Arsiein shook his head. “A wise vampire once told me, thank you is the one thing you do not have to say to family.”
“I did,” Theseus smirked.
“He stole that from Father,” Ulrik shouted, making the rest of us laugh, even me, and it felt good.
“Then it seems we shall begin our search for the truth.” Sigbjørn rose from his chair, everyone rising with him.
Chapter 26
What had felt like the longest day of my life finally became night, and Theseus and I stood on a wooden bridge over a small creek that snaked around the rose bushes. The garden went on for at least the length of three or four football fields. The roses were red and white, and the scent of them filled my nose so much it tickled. The sky was pitch black except for the large full moon that hung overhead. We’d left the living room. Sigbjørn and his brother had gone to the library to begin their quest to help me figure out was going on. I wanted to follow, but Theseus had led me here. He didn’t say anything and just stared up at the moon.
It was the first time we’d been alone together in hours, and it seemed much harder to strike up a conversation now than it had been since I’d met him. He was usually the one pushing me or prompting me to speak if there were silence.
“This garden is beautiful,” I said just to say something.
“My father planted every rose himself. They are my mother’s favorite and yet the most detested flower.” He chuckled to himself.
“What? How can something be what she hates and loves at the same time?”
At that, he glanced down at me. “You may not have noticed, but my mother is very complex and often immature.”
“I’m sure she can hear you.” I grinned back.
“I’m sure she can, but she cannot disagree because she knows it is true, too.” He laughed, and at that, and I relaxed more.
“Why does she love and hate roses?” I questioned.
“Simple. She loves them because they are beautiful and hates them because they are beautiful. They are used often and thus lose their uniqueness. Loving roses has become cliché. It is a flower everyone gives to someone they care about, and it is found everywhere. It is for that reason she dislikes them. The more common a thing is, the less value it has.”
“And so, your father planted a whole garden full of them?”
“Yes, because no common person could have a garden such as this, and also, she can watch them die and return in the spring.”
I laughed. “It’s like a riddle. Your love loves a common flower, but
cannot stand a common flower, so how do you give your love this flower.”
He laughed, too. “Exactly. It may sound cruel, but I often wondered how someone as old and as wise as my father could be the mate of someone like my mother, who is both hot and cold, who wants the sun and the moon, and who seeks to be held close and yet set free.”
“Did you find the answer?”
He glanced down at me with a smile on his face. “No, instead, I found a who mate who wishes not to mate, who knows me but does not know me, cares for me but cannot care for me, who is a vampire and yet a witch, close but far. Making my situation much more complicated than my father’s, so I have no more room to wonder about their relationship, only about mine.”
I opened my mouth to try to defend myself, but I didn’t have one. Instead, I frowned, looking over to the roses. “I do care. I thought about leaving, and you not ever coming to see me again, and I was sad.”
“How sad?” he asked excitedly, leaning into me.
“How did the role reverse so quickly?” I questioned, ignoring his question. “When I met you, you needed my help. Now it’s me who needs yours.”
He snickered, and before I knew it, I was spun into his arms. Holding me close, he forced me to look him in the eye. “I’d like to think we need each other. After all, I am still quite unaccustomed to this century.”
“You get on fine without your memory, though.”
“Only because I am too enamored by your presence to wonder about things I do not understand.” He grinned, tucking a strand of my curls behind my ear, but it only popped right back out making his grin widen. “I’ve had a great many questions about this century.”
“Really?” I asked more excited than I should have been. But being the person who knew something right now would be a relief. “Like what?”
“The black rectangles,” he said, and his serious eyes narrowed, and eyebrow furrowed.
