“Papa’s right.”
You finished your bag and licked the remaining blood from your lips. Xavier was careful to feed you in the mornings and afternoons so that you’d not need to take your blood with you to school. Accidentally telling a classmate about your feedings was one thing, but having witnesses was quite another.
“Mater said Medusa is my grandmother.”
Medusa was the originator of our bloodline and the goddess in whose vision Lena was created, along with her twin sister Lilith and a few other bloodborn Grigori. But grandmother was an easier concept to grasp.
“That must be why you like these so much.” I held up the empty bag.
“Mater said she’s your grandmother too.”
I nodded. For whatever reason, Lena hadn’t told you we were half-brothers. Perhaps she was leaving that to me.
“I told you we’re a lot alike. Very special and unique. That’s why we have to keep our secret.”
“Is Mater your Mater too?” You asked with a little divot in the middle of your forehead.
I didn’t want to lie to you. Your existence was confusing enough as it was. “Yes, Vincent. You’re my half-brother. What do you think about that?”
Your face lit up with a breathtaking smile. “I like it.”
I was relieved you accepted it so readily. “We have one more brother as well. His name is Lucian.”
“Lucian,” you repeated, careful with your pronunciation. “Mater told me about him. She said he’s very handsome. Like Prince Charming.”
Lucian was as charming as his bite was venomous.
“Where is he?” you asked. “Why doesn’t he come visit me?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in a while. You should ask Mater that.” I wouldn’t mind knowing Lucian’s whereabouts—I’d keep one eye open if he was nearby. “Did Mater tell you anything else about our family?”
“She said one day I’ll be stronger than you.” You ducked your head, embarrassed. “But I don’t think that’s true.”
“It could be true.” I reached over and roughed up your hair. Xavier kept it combed and tidy, but I preferred when it was messy and sticking up in soft peaks.
“Even Daddy can’t carry me on his shoulders like you can.”
“There are different ways to be strong, cucciolo.”
You grinned a little, perhaps imagining your future self. Selfishly, I wished you’d never grow up. At this age, I could shelter you from the world and keep you safe from harm, but with every year that passed, both your bloodlust and your powers would grow, making you more of a danger to yourself and others. Not to mention those who would covet your talent and seek to enslave you for it.
I recalled my own early years as a bloodthirsty half-demon. I’d had blood slaves, a battlefield as my hunting grounds, and wounded men to feast upon, while you were being raised in a tightly surveilled compound and attending a strict Catholic school with only these sanitized blood bags to sustain you.
This precarious bubble we’d created for you, how long could it last?
4
HENRI
When you were still in your formative years, you sometimes fell into a mood where you stopped speaking altogether and only communicated in meows and hisses. Xavier thought the less attention we gave to this behavior, the sooner it would pass. But when you insisted upon crawling instead of walking and eating your meals out of a dish on the floor, Santiago put his foot down.
“Two weeks this has been going on,” Santiago complained to me when I showed up for our regular visit. I hadn’t given much thought to it, for there were far more troubling behaviors you might assume than pretending to be a cat.
“Apparently he’s been doing the same thing at school. When I told him to answer me like a young man, he hissed at me.” Santiago shook his head. “Bared his teeth as well. Is that a Nephilim thing?”
I suppressed a smile. It could be a Nephilim thing, for our teeth were our most handy weapons, and we bared them in moments of aggression. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“It’s terribly rude, and I won’t tolerate it.”
