Jelly Babies

Many, many thanks to Rin-chan, StoryJunkie, Tenshistar, Moonstar, Doll'sEyes, Bambi4Real, Snidne, and Alisha Steele for their lovely feedback. Now is probably the time to confess that I've never been pregnant, much less had a cesarean, but I'm glad that I didn't make any major mistakes. (Although I'm sorry that I brought back some unpleasant memories for a few of you!) Anyway, since I believe in giving credit where credit is due, I want to acknowledge my source material: "What to Expect When You're Expecting" by Eisenberg, Murkoff and Hathaway. Despite its unfortunate lack of a section on male pregnancy, it's an excellent reference book.

Snidne -- I really liked your ideas about reincarnation. Maybe that's what it will be like for Pepper and the baby.

This installment ties up some loose ends before the big confrontation with Aryeh. Which will happen in the next (and last) chapter. (Just trying to brace people for the end of the series!)

Love,
Falcon


Jelly Babies

Chapter Eleven

Tucked safe in its cradle, the baby sleeps. And as it dreams of air, and light, and all the other wonders of its new life, the ghostly shape of a woman seems to rise from it. Her hair is like the shadow of fire, and her skin is like the memory of snow. Invisible to mortal eyes, she moves around the room, stopping beside each of the four people who have come to mean so much to her. Giving them her final gifts.

First, there is Sylvia, who sits beside the cradle, sketching the slumbering child. Brave, loyal Sylvia. For so long, she has loved so deeply, and asked for nothing in return. Not even the chance to speak of how she feels. To her, Pepper gives wisdom. The wisdom to stop chasing Marzi’s bright, impossible star, and to find happiness in a more modest light.

Secondly, there is Nicholas, who keeps Sylvia company during her vigil, his eyes full of awe as they stare down at his newborn daughter. Stubborn, devoted Nicholas. Even after Balberith took his voice, he had been the music in Pepper’s life, filling each day with songs of love so sacred that no words could ever convey them, and no notes could ever make them more beautiful. Softly, Pepper kisses his cheek, although she knows he cannot feel it. To him, she gives permission. Not permission to forget – never to forget. But permission to let go. To move on. To let his heart be touched by someone else.

Thirdly, there is Kale, who lies on the floor beside Marzi’s bed, his demon blood pushed to the point of exhaustion. Terrible, powerful Kale. Finally, beneath his anger, and beneath his fear, he discovered love’s true strength. The kind of strength needed to protect them all during the coming years. To him, Pepper gives a promise. He will be granted his redemption. And she will not enter Heaven before he does.

Lastly, there is her brother, who has carried her inside his body all these long months. Wild, passionate Marzi. Like the baby, he dreams, nestled deep in sleep’s dark womb. Pepper loves him more than all the rest. And so, to him, she gives something very special. She whispers the name of their child.

After a final glance at all of them, she returns to the baby, fading away as her soul joins with it. Then, the woman who once was Peppermint Penicandey is – and is not – gone.

*****

The first thing that penetrated Marzi’s drowsy mind was a pleasant sensation of heat. Then, as he drifted closer to true consciousness, the nebulous warmth became identifiable as blankets piled on top of him. Snuggled beneath them, like a hibernating creature safe in its winter burrow, Marzi didn’t feel particularly inclined to rush the waking process. At least, not until the sound of a soft melody reached his ears.

Forcing his eyes open, Marzi saw Kale standing beside the cradle, rocking the baby in his arms. And singing to her. While Marzi’s brain struggled to come to terms with this impossible image, Kale’s rich baritone continued its quiet lullaby.

Hush, little child
Go to sleep
Heaven made a promise
It can’t keep
The angels are falling
The gates are undone
No more salvation
For anyone

Hush, little child
Sleep long and well
The demons have fled
There’s none left in Hell
Lucifer made a promise
But his words were not true
His kingdom holds nothing
For me or for you

Hush, little child
Go to sleep
No more Heaven above us
No more Hell in the deep
This world has ended
And death seems so mild
Just the peaceful slumber
Of a little child

After finishing the song, Kale carefully placed the baby back in her cradle. Then, he seemed to become aware of Marzi watching him, because he turned around, one eyebrow arched challengingly. “Well?” he demanded. “Surely you weren’t expecting ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’, were you?”

“From you? Never.” Talking required considerable effort, but Marzi couldn’t resist. “I was just thinking what a lovely picture that would make for your police file.”

“Bah. She started to cry, and someone needed to quiet her, before she woke you up. Since Nicholas and Sylvia are off washing bottles, I did what was necessary.”

“And she fell asleep in your arms. Poor, trusting child. So easily conquered by your demonic charm.”

Crossing over to the bed, Kale sat down on its edge, his movements slow and cautious, to keep from jarring Marzi. Once he was settled, he brushed a strand of hair from his lover’s face. “She is not the first Penicandey to fall asleep in my arms.”

“I suppose not,” Marzi conceded, as Kale’s touch stirred a flurry of pleasurable shivers, like secrets being whispered under his skin. “I gave in more easily than her, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t even need to sing you a lullaby.”

Wanting to move closer to Kale, Marzi tried to scoot sideways. But the lower half of his body refused to respond to any of his commands. And that reminded him of the ordeal he’d so recently been through. “What happened, anyway? I remember Sylvia pulling out the baby...and then not much else.”

“You panicked.”

“Gee,” Marzi muttered, “I wonder why?”

“You started to hyperventilate,” Kale continued, ignoring Marzi’s sarcasm. “Fortunately, when you passed out, your body began breathing normally again.”

“Why can’t I move anything from my waist down?”

“Sylvia decided to keep you pretty numb for the next couple of days. That way, you won’t be in any pain, and you won’t rip out your stitches.”

At the mention of his stitches, Marzi got a morbid urge to peek under the covers and examine his wound. But he resisted. If he started hyperventilating again, Kale would never let him live it down. So, instead, Marzi focused on the positive result of his cesarean. “Can I hold her?”

“I think holding her may require a bit more strength than you have at the moment. But I’ll bring her over.” After placing a kiss on Marzi’s forehead, Kale got to his feet and retrieved the baby. Loosely wrapped in a yellow blanket, with a knit cap covering her head, she was reddish, and wrinkled, and unbelievably small. Marzi remembered all the depictions he’d seen of parents meeting their newborns for the first time. He remembered how eagerly they picked out which features resembled which relatives, and he marveled at their imagination. When he looked at his daughter, he saw nothing of himself, or Pepper, or Nicholas. She was like a tiny, shriveled alien. But he loved her anyway. If she had been born with horns and a forked tail, he would have loved her anyway.

“So,” Kale ventured, “does this new creature have a name? Sylvia and I have been calling her ‘the baby’, and if Nicholas has any suggestions, he’s kept them to himself.”

“Lollipop,” Marzi answered, slightly surprised by the certainty he felt. “Lolli, for short.”

Kale looked dubious. “I suppose it’s too late to consider Jane, or Susan, or Laura?”

“Lolli,” Marzi insisted. And, still sleeping, Lollipop Penicandey seemed to smile in approval.

*****

Nicholas and Sylvia had commandeered Inferno’s dishwasher. Dirty shot glasses, champagne flutes, and beer mugs were placed into ever-growing piles, forced to wait while they filled it with their own load. Nicholas disassembled the plastic baby bottles, while Sylvia tried to place the various pieces so that they wouldn’t be overturned by blasts of hot water.

“You know,” Sylvia announced, as Nicholas handed her another rubber nipple, “they make special dishwasher cases for these things. I can’t believe I didn’t think of ordering one.”

Shaking his head, Nicholas tried to object. He’d been so caught up in the loss of Pepper. It hadn’t occurred to him that, after Marzi gave birth, there would be a hungry, naked baby to take care of. But just when he’d begun to realize the folly of his oversight, Sylvia revealed her stash of supplies. If not for her, they would be trying to fashion diapers out of napkins, and feeding the baby through a straw. Nicholas hardly felt inclined to chastise Sylvia for such a minor oversight as a dishwasher case. In fact, he’d been trying to make up for his own lack of preparation by throwing himself into helping Sylvia with the practicalities of newborn care.

Initially, Sylvia’s maternal side surprised him. After all, here was this woman who had spent the last ten years in service to one of Chicago’s most feared crime bosses – and she knew how to burp a baby? But apparently, while the rest of them were obsessed with their various dramas, Sylvia had been diligently reading up on the subject. It gave Nicholas hope. Before, when he thought about raising Pepper’s reborn self, he imagined being forever overshadowed by her two other parents. Nicholas loved Marzi dearly, and knew that his exuberant playfulness would bring joy to any child’s life. Unfortunately, that playfulness too often crossed over into reckless behavior and irresponsibility. As for Kale, well, Kale had saved Nicholas from something worse than death, and Nicholas would not soon forget it. But Kale was still a part-demon criminal. So, when Sylvia decided that she, too, was going to be part of the family, Nicholas welcomed her as a much needed ally.

After placing the last bottle inside, Sylvia shut the dishwasher. And, as she turned away from it, the light danced across the wings of her dragonfly pin. Ever since she’d started wearing it, Nicholas had been fascinated by the piece of jewelry. Now, he reached out, and touched it, while giving her an inquiring look.

Sylvia blushed. The steamy air in the dishwashing room had fogged up her dark glasses, forcing her to remove them, and they sat on the counter beside her leather gloves. Without her customary shields in place, Nicholas could see the soft brown color of her eyes.

“It belonged to my mother,” Sylvia explained. “When I was a little girl, my school put on a play, and I got chosen for the role of a glamorous movie star. Naturally, I needed jewelry for my costume. My mom gave me the pin, and I liked it so much, she let me keep it, even after the play was over.”

Sylvia shook her head. “I don’t know why I took it when I ran away. It used to make me sad every time I looked at it. Because I couldn’t ever go back.”

For a moment, Nicholas thought about his own reminders of a life he could never return to. Most of his possessions had been lost when he broke his deal with Balberith – probably sucked into Hell along with the entire apartment building where the demon lord had housed him. And even if they hadn’t been destroyed, what good would they do him? What good were the phone numbers of people he could no longer call? What good were the addresses of people he could no longer write to, because he couldn’t possibly explain to them what his life had become? What good were the photographs of parents who might, possibly, never meet their grandchild?

“But recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about family,” Sylvia continued. “About how we start with one, and then we go through our lives assembling others. Maybe we keep the people that blood gave us. Or maybe we gather together a motley bunch of freaks. Either way, it’s still family, isn’t it?”

“So, I decided to wear the pin. To honor the family I once had. And to celebrate the one I have now.”

Without seeming to realize she was doing it, Sylvia caressed the dragonfly, and found Nicholas’s fingers still lingering there. Startled, she jerked her hand away. But then, tentatively, she reached out again.

When Sylvia’s skin brushed against his, Nicholas felt his blood rush toward her, as if recognizing its former home. Slowly, he raised his hand to meet hers. At first, only the tips of their fingers touched, like shy strangers meeting. But they quickly grew bolder. Fingers stroked fingers, and then slid downward, tracing the lifelines that crossed each other’s palms. Searching for solace. For comfort. For some memory of love.

Then, with a look of reluctance, Sylvia pulled back. “I’m not her,” she reminded.

I know. She seemed so sad, Nicholas wanted to kiss her. But he remembered Cassie. That was not a mistake he would make again. If this was going to work, it needed to move slowly. It needed to be about something more than their joint grief. And I’ll never be him. But it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?

Sylvia didn’t say anything else. However, she let Nicholas take her hand in his as they left the dish room, while her gloves remained behind, abandoned on the counter.

*****

“Mr. Kale?”

To say that Kale had been through a rough couple of days would qualify as a major understatement. Between his concern for Marzi and his continued efforts to maintain the spells that protected Inferno, he’d allowed sleep to become a distant memory. So, he wasn’t exactly cheerful as he turned his attention away from Sylvia, and directed it at the man who had invaded his office.

“Yes?” he snapped. “What the hell do you want?”

Irritatingly, Kale’s annoyance didn’t seem to dampen the man’s good spirits. Nor did Kale’s refusal to shake his hand when he extended it. “My name is Richard Bower,” he informed, under the mistaken impression that Kale gave a damn. “I’m with Chicago’s Building Department.”

“And?”

“My colleagues and I were reviewing your club’s most recent safety inspection.” Still smiling, Richard Bower reached into his briefcase and pulled out a document. “It’s rather appalling, I’m afraid.”

“What!?” Kale snatched the piece of paper. There were plenty of crimes he could be accused of, but skimping on Inferno was not one of them. The club had been built solid and strong. Incredulously, Kale scanned down through the form, his fury increasing with each fraudulent claim. Termites in the wood. Cracked support beams. Leaky plumping. “These are all lies,” he snarled. “Complete lies!”

“Well, it’s certainly your right to argue that. You’ll be allowed to make your case in court. Until then, however, I’m afraid that Inferno will need to be closed. Starting tonight.”

“Tonight?! I don’t understand. I’ve always paid my share of graft to your department. Why in hell--?” Then, with sudden clarity, Kale got it. His eyes narrowed, and the broad bombast of his fury condensed into a calmer, and much more dangerous, hatred. “Mr. Bower?” he murmured, in a voice like knives concealed by silk. “Would you mind telling me one thing?”

“Of course,” Richard Bower assured. “I am, after all, a public servant.”

“What did he give you?”

Richard Bower’s hand twitched, tightening its grip on his briefcase. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious,” Kale insisted. “What does an Agent of God offer to a man in exchange for his soul?”

The smile vanished from Richard Bower’s face. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” he informed, taking the safety inspection form back from Kale. “As of now, this club is condemned. If you try to let any customers inside, I’ll call the police, and have them dragged back out again. Good day.”

Kale barely waited until the inspector had gone, before he turned to Sylvia. “Can we move him? Can we run?”

To her credit, Sylvia didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ referred to. “No. Even aside from recovering from the cesarean, his body is in flux right now, as it reabsorbs the womb and changes back to normal. He needs absolute rest.”

“Dammit! Aryeh must have had this in mind all along. He’s been toying with me.” Like a tiger trapped in a cage, Kale began to pace back and forth across his office. Without the energy given off by the dancers, he couldn’t maintain the warding spells, and Aryeh knew it. The Agent of God would wait until the barriers weakened, and then claim what he wanted. Probably killing the rest of them for the sheer satisfaction of it.

“Someone could take Lolli,” Sylvia suggested. “Even if we couldn’t all go, someone could take Lolli away and hide her.”

“Who?” Kale demanded. “You? Me? Neither of us is willing to leave Marzi. For the sake of his baby, Nicholas might be, but I wouldn’t entrust that boy with a pet rock, much less my lover’s child. No. We’ve come this far together. That’s how we end it.”

And, after all, they weren’t beaten yet. Already, Kale began to see the possibilities. He could prematurely diminish the magical protections – make Aryeh think he was weaker than he was. Then, once the Agent of God entered Inferno, there were tricks and traps that could be laid. It might not work. Hell, it probably wouldn’t. But at least they wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Sylvia, you go explain the situation to Marzi and Nicholas. I have some things to do.”

“Such as?” Sylvia inquired.

“Well, for one thing,” Kale answered, as he lifted the phone, “I need to order a baby doll.”