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Loved(45)
Author: P. C. Cast

   “That isn’t my Jack, Grandma. That’s Other Jack.”

   “Does it truly matter whose Jack he is supposed to be?” Grandma spoke as she held a thick smudge stick of white sage to the flame of the purple candle. “Isn’t he, in any form, eternally your Jack? Would you not love him in any body—male or female?”

   “I would.” Damien felt a rush of emotional shock as he realized his automatic response was actually the truth. I would love Jack no matter what body he returned to me in—male, female—it just wouldn’t matter. He would still be my true love.

   “And couldn’t you understand that his spirit—that essence that is truly Jack—might be the same, even though the body it houses, the personality that goes with it, could be somewhat different because of different life experiences?”

   Damien nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, Grandma, I think I could.”

   “So you believe you could learn to love Jack again, even if he’d been reborn into a totally different body. Perhaps a lovely Asian man who has never known a vampyre or even a fledgling? Or a woman whose only experience with the gay community is her homophobic family railing against what they call sinners?”

   “It would still be Jack in there somewhere. Yes, I would want to be with him. Or her.”

   “Then learn to love him again in his own body.”

   Damien jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “Oh, Goddess, Grandma! I didn’t think of it like that.” He felt a sudden, amazing lightening of the rubber band of stress that squeezed his chest. “I was so wrapped up in him being Other Jack that I couldn’t see the truth. It doesn’t matter. If he’s not my Jack at this instant, I know he can be, will be, my Jack again.”

   “That is right, wahuhi. Follow that path. Hope will lead you to joy.”

   “We fell in love once. We can fall in love again.”

   “Of course you can, child. Of course you can.” Grandma reached for the long strand of turquoise beads and lifted it, settling it around Damien’s neck so that it draped down his chest. Then she took the smoking sage bundle in her left hand and the dove feather in her right. “Please stand.”

   Damien did as Grandma asked, stepping a little to the side of the settee so that she could easily move around him. Then she began smudging him, rhythmically moving in a tight, clockwise circle, using the dove feather to waft the smoke as she sang a heartbeat of a song in Cherokee.

   She circled him four times and then rested the smoking sage bundle on the oyster shell. Still singing and moving her feet rhythmically, she lit the long braided strand of sweet grass and began the process all over again.

   When she finished her four rotations, she motioned for Damien to bow his head so that she could rest her hand on it, blessing him.

   “Oh, great Earth Mother, help this soft-hearted wahuhi to always speak the truth, to listen with an open mind, to remember peace must always first be found within. Protect him as he walks his life path, open to joy, speaking the truth, and believing in carrying peace within.”

   Then, she tiptoed and oh, so gently, kissed the filled-in crescent moon in the center of his forehead. “Nyx, I seal my blessing with a kiss from me to you.”

   “Thank you, Grandma.” Damien felt as if he stood taller, and as he moved he seemed lighter. He started to lift the turquoise beads over his head to return them to her, but her hand stayed him.

   “These are yours now. I strung them for you, singing each bead into place with a protection prayer. I don’t want you to take them off until after the next full moon.”

   “You mean, wear them all the time? Even in the shower?”

   She smiled and nodded. “Yes, child. And to bed as well. They will help you on your new path. They will also help Jack.”

   “Jack?”

   “I understand that as he is now he has trouble controlling his impulse to feed.”

   “Yes, Stark and Zoey don’t want me to be alone with him because of it. They’re probably right.”

   “They are concerned for your well-being. We all are. But it isn’t Jack’s hunger from which you need to be protected. It is the illness of his spirit. I felt it as soon as I saw him. His spirit is steeped in Darkness.” Grandma Redbird pressed her palm against the turquoise beads. “Darkness is pained by this sacred stone’s protective powers. It will weaken the Darkness in Jack’s spirit enough that he will be able to control his terrible hunger for a time.”

   “That’s amazing, Grandma. Thank you so much!”

   “Child, this isn’t a cure for Jack’s illness. I do not have that power—neither do these stones. Neither do you. Remember that. Be wise. Go to him now. Talk with him. Get to know this Other Jack who is just another version of your true love.”

   “I will.” Damien’s sense of relief was overwhelming. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “How much time will these beads give me with him?”

   “You should be safe until he sleeps with the rising of the sun.” She closed and handed him the small picnic basket. “Take this with you. I packed it with a little something for you both.”

   “It’s a lot smaller than your normal picnic basket, Grandma.”

   “Oh, I have many such baskets—each the correct size for its purpose.”

   Damien peered inside to find a thermos, which was warm to his touch, and two beautiful crystal wine glasses. Damien raised his eyebrow at Grandma. “Coffee?”

   She smiled knowingly. “Blood. Warm and fresh. Shaunee got it for me.” Damien blinked in shock, which had Grandma giggling and looking like a precocious girl. “Do you think I do not know you drink blood, wahuhi?”

   “I, well, yes. I suppose I did know you knew. But I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with it.”

   She lifted one shoulder. “It does not shock me. Do you know my people used to eat the fresh, still-bleeding livers from the animals killed to feed the tribe? It was done with respect and appreciation for the life given. This blood was donated, not forced, and it was accepted with respect and appreciation. I see no fundamental difference in the two.”

   “Thank you.” Before he closed the lid of the basket, Damien slipped in the book he’d been planning to read—just in case Jack was sleepier than he anticipated. He could, at least for a little while, sit in his room and watch him while he slept.

   “And, Damien, I want you to take someone with you to see Jack.” Grandma interrupted his thoughts.

   “But I thought you gave me this so that I could be alone with him,” he said, gently touching the beads. They felt cool and soft beneath his fingers, and they seemed to vibrate slightly with every beat of his heart.

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