“Mommy, eat more. She’s hungry.” Jasper would rub that burgeoning belly. “Oh, and so pretty! We will be the best of friends. Her favorite color will be orange, and she will slurp down liver just like I do.”
Jasper was not allowed to be present at the birth, the scamp unable to contain his excitement and far too distracting to the mother working to deliver. It was only the two of us while our son sulked in the jungle.
I was the first to see or touch our daughter, Pearl exhausted yet smiling when I set the babe on her breast.
Strength. Endurance. Intention.
The little girl was her mother incarnate.
As if he knew the moment his sister had taken her first breath, Jasper appeared and asked to hold her, the babe covered in vernix, mucus, and blood. His arms outstretched as if the only thing that might quench his endless appetite was soon to be delivered. Pearl made him wait, as the baby was learning to suckle.
The boy might have sacked an entire community in his temper, but his mother called him forward when his tantrum grew outlandish. She let him lay a single touch on her head.
He who he longed would be his best friend.
And I knew what coursed through his veins. I had suffered the same.
Kissing my soul, I knew joy with my wife at the beauty of our child. Jasper named the babe—Beryl.
And dared call her his.
Pearl didn’t tolerate it, chastising our son. “She isn’t yours. She belongs to herself.”
His soul, the mirror of mine, begged. “You’re wrong, Mommy.”
Our pretty phenomenon, Jasper... an amazing child. A true devil.
Who coveted, who hunted, and whom I found more than once standing over the cradle of my daughter, stroking her cheek and speaking of battles fought long before they were born.
Five times he threatened to kill me if I dared deny him his due.
So I did what had to be done.
I cast Jasper out to wander, removing all memory of him from Pearl’s mind so she might enjoy her daughter without the constant worry over her son—a deadly son who had been born to run wild and was growing all the more manic caged by an island too small to satiate his whims.
I told him this, honest when I dropped him at the doorstep of the Cathedral.
He might have only been a boy, but he had the memories of a man. Until he grew into his body and learned to control his urges, he was not to be permitted near his mother or his sister.
After all, eternity was a long time. What might a few dozen years mean in the scheme of things?
Jasper didn't wail. He didn’t cling to me. Instead, he made an oath.
To bring the world down in flames if his soul was not returned to him. Tussling his hair, I was so proud, knowing exactly how he felt, and glad I hadn’t had my Pearl in those hungry centuries where I wreaked havoc.
The kid would do well getting it out of his system. Then he might return to the flock, where he would find it was not his sister he was drawn to. It was the possibility for what might have been in her. Whoever he had lost and been reborn to find would not be delivered so easily.
He’d have to search for her. Suffer for her. Learn to control himself so as not to frighten her with his greatness.
And when he saw her, he’d know.
There was no need for him to project what he saw in Mommy and Daddy.
He’d know.
The boy nodded, threw a rude gesture my way, and told me he would get even with me for this, before turning his back and climbing the steps of his new home.
I believed him.
That would be fun!
“I’ll come visit tomorrow! Be a good boy!”
Heaven help the woman he fell in love with.
Chuckling, I returned to my wife, smiling to find her in such peace. Babe in arms, she danced around our room, humming in the sunshine, all the constant niggling worry over her beautiful boy lifted away.
An indulgent smile paired with beautifully sparkling blue eyes. “Welcome home.”
Kissing the top of Pearl’s head, I brushed the back of a claw down the smiling cheek of my sweet little girl. And all was right in the world.