I tried to remind myself there were still gods to hunt and Xander would be by my side as I did so. Instead of putting him off, I’d let him help me. But where would we go from here, him a god and me a mortal? It couldn’t last forever. And unfortunately, I needed that certainty.
Xander had my whole heart, but sometimes love wasn’t enough. I saw the two paths. One way led to me giving in and becoming a vampire. Vivien would no doubt help me. I’d bond to Xander as his sekhor and drink his blood for all eternity. But I’d resent him. I’d feel robbed of getting to grow old, of the promise of death.
Jamal would get older, he would graduate high school, then college, maybe get married. But as events continued on, I would eventually have to pull away from his life as age refused to show on me. I wanted to hold grandbabies in my arms, stay part of his life the way Mama Jean did with us.
Then there was the thought of outliving my own son, which sent ice cold fear flooding through my veins. No parent should have to outlive their child. Would I hate myself and eventually Xander for choosing a man over my family and how I wanted to live the rest of my life?
Then there was the second route. Xander and I kept things as is, we hunted gods together until I put all of them back into the blade. Even if I completed what seemed like an absolutely impossible task, I knew Xander would stay with me. But how would he feel watching me grow old? The thought of not being able to keep up with him, engage him with my youth and vitality, brought pain too. And one day, he’d be alone. Did that make it my responsibility to try and spend my days trying to nurse his mental state back to health so he could go on after me? Should I encourage him to rejoin the other gods? Help him open up to the possibility of loving someone else?
Selfishness curled sourly in my stomach. I didn’t want him to love someone else. I was tired of playing the martyr, but maybe this was the only answer.
Everything in my body felt heavier on the drive home, as if I'd gained twenty pounds of emotional weight.
Pushing open Jamal's door, I found him sprawled on his bed, surrounded by textbooks and scribbling away in his notebook. It helped to know Mama Jean was there when he got home, but I realized I’d been distant lately for a number of reasons. But the kid never seemed to begrudge me for it.
The sight of him so focused and determined sent a wave of love crashing over me, grounding me in the present. Heinz was dutifully resting next to Jamal, receiving the occasional soft pet from my son.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, keeping my voice soft as I crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed. “How's homework going?”
Jamal looked up, his expression lighting up in a way that eased the tightness in my chest. “Okay, I guess. Math's a bit tough today.”
I glanced at the problems on the page. “Want some help?” I offered, knowing that these moments were the building blocks of our relationship, precious and fleeting.
“Yeah, actually,” he said.
As we worked through the problems together, I was struck by the realization of how much I cherished these quiet, ordinary moments. They were a stark contrast to the chaos and danger of my nights, a reminder of what I fought for, what I lived for.
Jamal's laughter filled the room as we cracked a particularly tough problem, and in that laughter, I heard the echoes of a future I longed to be part of. A future where I could watch him grow, celebrate his victories, and support him through his defeats. A future where I could grow old with grace, surrounded by the family I loved.
The thought of becoming immortal, of stepping outside the natural cycle of life and watching from the sidelines as Jamal lived his life without me, was a cold, unfathomable prospect. No amount of time with Xander could compensate for the loss of these simple, human experiences.
My heart was going to break either way.
“You okay, Mom?” Jamal asked.
“Yeah, I’m good, why?”
“You seem sad.”
I swallowed over the lump in my throat. My son, eleven going on forty.
“Is it because of Xander?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were upset when he gave you Heinz.” Even as Jamal said the words, his fingers curled protectively into the dog’s softscruff. As if thinking I might try to get rid of the dog. “You like him, but you don’t want to.”
I reached over and pet the mutt who lifted his head, closing his eyes under the ministrations. “I think Heinz is pretty great too.” A little bit too much in my business, but Bob was worse. Until this moment I hadn’t realized how the immortal dog made me feel like my son was safer with him nearby.
Jamal shook his head. “I don’t mean Heinz, I mean Xander. Youlike,like him.”
I tried to keep my shoulders from stiffening but it couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t reconcile the two worlds, my two selves with Jamal on one side and Xander on the other.
I didn’t know what to say.
“Jamal,” I began, my voice softer than I intended. “Liking someone... it's complicated. Especially when you're grown up. There are things to consider, decisions that don't just affect me, but us—our little family.”
He set his pencil down and turned to face me fully, his young face etched with a seriousness beyond his years. “But isn't Xander nice? He saved me. And you smile more after you’ve been around him.”
