could heal, and an all-expenses-paid cruise in exchange for her discretion.
You’d also gone through a phase where you were biting yourself. We’d had to place a rather cumbersome mouthguard over your teeth until it passed. I felt bad for you, not having the same access to fresh blood that I’d had as a child, but times had changed. My biggest concern was that you’d get ahold of warm human flesh, do what your instincts told you, and there’d be no one around to stop you.
“Are you—”
“Yes, we are feeding him plenty,” Xavier said. “And our new supplier hasn’t missed a delivery yet.”
“And you’re—”
“I label all of the bags with their expiration dates. I’ve been doing this for the past two years now, Henri. Please give me some credit.”
“And Santiago—”
“Santiago is fine. Work keeps him busy. And he’s very fond of Vincent. I only wish we could spend more time together as a family.”
That last bit bothered me. Of course, Xavier and I both overstepped our boundaries when we’d offered Santiago as the divine half of their parenting duo, but I worried the resentment he harbored toward our kind would spill over into his parenting.
Having finished your bloodmeal, you climbed into my lap and laid your warm cheek against my chest, settling in for a cuddle or maybe a nap. I wrapped a dry towel around your damp body as your little fist grabbed one of the shells in my hair. I rubbed your back until your heavy eyelids closed and a low rumble emitted from your chest.
“I think he’s purring,” I said to Xavier, who only nodded as if I’d proven his point.
“Do you know about Medusa?”
You posed this question to me when you were in your first year of primary school. We were at the park down the street from your house. I’d just pushed you on the swing for nearly an hour, and we were sitting down to lunch under the canopy of a large Banyan tree. Our conversations at this age reminded me of when I’d first met you in your previous life. I thanked the Principatus every day that I’d been given another opportunity to know you.
“I have heard some stories about Medusa, but why don’t you tell me yours?” I suggested.
In addition to Latin, Lena had been teaching you our family lore, which, by and large, contradicted the religious canon you were taught at school. I could only imagine how Lena felt about you being raised in the Catholic faith.
“She was very beautiful, and she had snakes for hair. Like Mater.”
Outside the earthen realm and in her bloodborn body, Lena’s hair was nested with snakes. My own locks tended to undulate as well when I was in Shade Vales, but they didn’t hiss or bite. I wondered if it would be similar for you.
“What do you think about having snakes for hair?” I asked.
“I’d rather have cats.”
Your obsession with cats had certainly grown. They were attracted to your energy, and wherever we went, there were always one or two that begged for your attention, including the strays who’d taken up permanent residence on Santiago’s property. It was one of the strangest phenomena I’d ever witnessed. Of course, you’d named them and insisted on feeding and nursing the wounded ones, much to your parents’ displeasure. When one of your brood died or disappeared, you held a funeral for them complete with “cat mass,” which seemed sacrilegious to me, but I left that determination to Xavier.
These cat funerals were special events with a growing guest list, refreshments, and solemn words spoken by all who’d known said feline. On one occasion, the cat we were mourning stumbled upon the affair, which then resulted in a jubilee of miraculous proportion. With the exception of that resurrection, I found these affairs rather gloomy. But Xavier felt the ritual helped develop your empathy.
I had a dress suit reserved specifically for cat funerals if there was any doubt as to my devotion.
“Cats for hair?” I asked incredulously. “I can only imagine the scratch marks.” I tweaked your nose then reached into the cooler Xavier had packed for us and pulled out two bags of blood, peanut butter sandwiches, and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
“Cats are smart. They see things.”
“Just like you,” I said, and you nodded in agreement.
“Anyway, like I was saying,” you said with a bit of sass. “Medusa didn’t turn people into stone like the stories say.”
“Oh no?”
“No. She froze them with her powers.” You held out your hands so