by Peter Glenn
Before that, a myriad of things had happened. People I cared for dying on my birthday, getting dumped by an honest to goodness princess. Okay, that one had probably been a good thing, really. I couldn’t provide her any heirs. Well, I suppose I could have, but I’d refused. I didn’t want them to be cursed with the long life I didn’t even want.
Still, that moment hadn’t exactly been the pinnacle of happiness.
Most of the other birthdays had been a blur, but I couldn’t remember any really good ones that stuck out. At least not since I was a little boy living with my mother.
A nagging thought at the back of my head made me wonder just where my mother was, anyway. She normally called me on my birthday to check up on me, but this year, she’d been blissfully silent. At first, I’d assumed it was my innate luck chiming in, but now I was none too sure.
“Li, my darling boy,” a high-pitched voice called out from the entryway to Mei’s.
My blood chilled and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge. Li was my given name. Precious few people used that name. And the tonality of that voice. There was only one person that voice could belong to.
“Oh no,” I whispered. “Oh no, no, no.”
“Happy birthday to my littlest son,” the voice continued, getting closer.
I turned in my stool to face her. What stood there in the entryway was the stuff of the darkest of nightmares come to life. A sight meant to instill terror in the hardiest of souls. A sight that made even the strongest of warriors quiver and run for safety.
My mother.
She was every bit the stereotypical older Chinese lady. Short in stature, a little broad at the shoulders but still overall slight in appearance. She wasn’t hunched over, but she still looked like she could fall over at any moment. There were slight wrinkles around her eyes and in the corners of her lips, and a small shock of silvery hair flowed down the middle of her otherwise black, shoulder length hair that was cut short in the front.
She wore a pair of thick, rimmed glasses that made her beady little eyes look even more menacing. Glasses we both knew she didn’t need. The immortality “gift” we’d all been given strengthened our bodies’ natural systems. I healed a little faster than normal, and my eyesight, while not amazing, was basically perfect. My mother was the same way.
I didn’t know how it all worked, or why it had never reversed the aging my mother had already gone through by the time the magic had been granted, but there you have it. As frail as she looked, she was as hardy as they came.
A smile creased her lips and her eyes brightened up as she looked straight at me. “Oh, Li, my sweet boy. It is good to see you. Come give your mother a hug.”
Grudgingly, I put down my drink and sauntered over to her. I was a hardened warrior. I’d seen the rise and fall of entire nations in my time on this rock and played my part in several of them.
But when my mother asks for a hug, I give her a hug.
I bent my knees so we were closer on level—I didn’t tower over most people these days, but I was still taller than her—and put my arms around her in a warm embrace. In spite of all my worries, it was actually pretty warm and inviting. My mother could hug with the best of them.
A moment later, I let go.
“Let me get a good look at you, Li,” she said, holding her hands upward toward my face.
I complied and lowered myself until my face was at a level where she could easily reach it.
“Good, good,” she said, patting my cheeks.
She proceeded to fuss over me like I imagined every mother does with their children. She pinched my cheeks and smoothed out the top of my hair, even wet down a thumb and cleaned off a small smudge I’d had on my chin from lunch earlier in the day.
I heard a few snickers from the assembled bar patrons as the great Damian was reduced to a mere child in front of his mother, and I swore I’d get them all back for this at some point.
“Oh, Li, you look just perfect,” my mother said in a calm voice, a big smile on her face. “Just like Momma remembers.”
“Of course I do, Mother. I’m immortal, remember? We all are. I don’t age at all.”
“A little round around the edges, though,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything. She gave the small pouch at my stomach a big pinch and rubbed hard on my sides. She withdrew and put her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “I raised a warrior, Li, not a slob!”
“Mom!” I stood up straight, rearing back a bit and glancing nervously around the room. There were mocking faces all around. Not that any of them said anything, of course. One did not cross my mother. She commanded the room.
I held out my hand to her. “Why don’t we go sit at the bar. I can have Mei fix you a drink and we can… talk.” I flashed her the biggest smile I could muster.
“That’s my little gentleman,” she said, face full of pride. She pinched me on the arm since she could no longer reach my face.
This time, I heard Hank laugh and Mei barely suppress a giggle. Oh yeah, I was going to get them all back for this for sure. Not that I knew how or when, but it was going to happen. I would make sure of it.
My mother and I made our way over to the bar and sat down. I had to help her get up onto the tall stool just a little bit, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just sat there the whole time looking up at me with a gleam in her eye.
“What’ll it be, Mrs. Xiang?” Mei asked her a moment later.
“Just a Shirley Temple,” she said without looking. “A proper warrior does not allow themselves to get drunk in front of others.”
Oh, jeez. Now I felt even worse than before. I gently pushed my own drink out of the way until it was mostly behind me and smiled at Mei. “Me, too, Mei. I’ll have the same.”
Mei shook her head slightly and suppressed another snicker. “Sure thing, birthday boy.”
A few moments later, she produced two glasses and set them in front of us. My throat was starting to feel suspiciously dry, so I downed half of mine quickly. My mother took the tiniest sip of hers and gave me a look that said she did not approve of my haste.
I set the glass back down with a grimace and looked over at her. “So, Mom, er… Mother dearest, what brings you here today?”
“Can a mother not want to see her son on his birthday?” she asked, frowning at me.
“Of course they can!” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that, it’s just, it’s unusual for you to actually come all the way out here on my birthday and I just…”
“Just what, Li? Doubt my motives?” Her expression soured further. “It’s just like you, Li, to do that. It can never be simple with you, can it?”
I’d gone and done it, now. We were a half step away from a major blowout. Sevin’s prediction had been right. I wasn’t going to like my birthday very much at all.
“No, no. Not at all,” I insisted. “I’m… happy that you came by. Thrilled, even.” It was a bold-faced lie, of course, but I spoke it with conviction.
My mother looked taken aback. “Why, Li, that warms my heart.” The smile returned to her face. “Thank you, darling boy.”
Phew. Crisis averted. Now I just had to hope nothing else came by to ruin the night further.
But, of course, I wasn’t that lucky.
“Want to blow out the candles on your cake?” A voice said a moment later.
It was Hank again. He was holding a massive sheet cake in his outstretched hands. The icing looked to be vanilla or possibly buttercream. Either way, it was likely cloyingly sweet. There was a small, red banner on the top of the cake, too, and little balloons piped onto it, to match with the overall decor in the bar. But the worst part was the candles on the cake.
Three candles, numbered two, nine, and nine. For how old I was, I supposed.
I tried to hide my face behind my hands and slink away, but it was no use. My mother had already seen it.
“Two hundred and ninety-nine?” my mother asked, staring at the cake like it had grown a head and was starting to talk.
“What is this? Why does the cake say this?”
“Why, it’s Damian’s two hundred and ninety-ninth birthday, of course,” Hank said with a big smile on his face. He looked up at me. “Next year, you’ll be the big three-oh-oh, buddy!”
I waved my hands around and made a zipping motion over my lips, but Hank didn’t seem to catch any of it. I maneuvered my way in between my mother and the cake.
“Ugh. Let’s just–”
“Is that what my son has told you all?” my mother asked. She looked around the room and locked eyes with each person, but none of them wanted to answer her. “Did my son tell you this?”
“Hey,” Sally said a moment later, frowning. “Wasn’t it his two hundred and ninety-ninth birthday last year?”
“You know what?” Isaiah chimed in. “I think it was. And the year before that, too.”
Mei grinned at him. “I think you’re right.” She turned to face me, hands on her hips. “Why, you’ve been two hundred and ninety-nine for some time now, haven’t you?”
I was in for it now. My mother wasn’t a fan of drinking or slovenly living, two of my mainstays. But she didn’t hate them. Lying, on the other hand, now that was a habit she detested.
“Um… uh… maybe?” I stammered bracing myself for verbal outrage.
“Xiang Li!” my mother shouted in a disapproving tone.
Damn. She only used my full Chinese name when she was really upset with me.
“What is wrong with you, my son? Why have you spread this falsehood?”
I winced and lowered my head, burying it in my shirt. “Mother, I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I…”
She put her hands on her hips again. “And just what is so bad about being three hundred and seventeen, anyway?”
All the sudden, it was too much. The overall tension from my birthday, my mother’s surprise visit, her disapproval of everything.
I exploded. “I just don’t want to be over three hundred, Ma!” I shouted, glaring at her and waving my arms like a madman.
The whole room went quiet, my mother included. I glanced about the room, a sheepish grin on my face as I took it all in. The mirth-filled looks were gone, replaced with something akin to shock or surprise. Even Yuri sat there with his mouth agape.
“Xiang Li,” my mother started. She gave me the most disappointed scowl I’d ever seen. “I will not be addressed like a common girl.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” I hung my head low, genuflecting before her. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”
My mother patted the top of my head gently. “I know, Li. I believe you.” She sucked in a deep breath and sighed. “I suppose my forgiveness can be my gift to you this year.”
“Thank you,” I said with a curt nod. I rose gently, maintaining the sheepish grin.
Phew. That had been a close one.
A semblance of normalcy returned to the room a moment later as everyone let out a collective sigh of relief they’d been holding in. Hank set down the cake and it was quickly forgotten.
“So, Li,” my mother started, looking up at me again. “Have you found any girls out there in your travels? Any hope of grandchildren in the near future? You know how I long to hold another baby in my arms.”
I rolled my eyes. Now we were getting to the heart of the visit. “This again, Mother?”
“A mother needs grandchildren to spark joy in their lonely lives, Li.”
My thoughts went to LaLuna and Grace. Should I tell my mother about them? But we weren’t even really officially a couple yet. Sure, we’d made out a few times, and I cared for her, but that was as far as the relationship had gone.
“Umm…” I said, biting my lip a little.
No, it was too early. Didn’t want to get her hopes up. Plus, then she’d probably want to see them in person, and I really wasn’t ready for that. Now there was a way to ruin a relationship fast—bring an overbearing mother into the picture.
“That is to say, not really, no,” I concluded.
My mother let out another sigh. “It’s okay, Li.” She smiled at me and patted my shoulder. “The right woman will come in time. And soon, I do hope.”
“Thank you, Mother,” I said. I was surprised by how kind she was being. Which only put me even more on edge.
She shrugged. “It’s okay. What about that girl you talked about last time. Sheila, was it?”
Who now? Oh, Sheila. The Canadian blood mage. Sure, she’d helped me a few times before. But that was it.
I chortled. “Mom, Sheila is a lesbian.”
“Oh.” She didn’t skip a beat. “Well, it just so happens I know of a nice little Chinese lady who’s looking to settle down. I could introduce the two of you, if you like.”
“Mom, no!”
I shuddered again. Anything but another blind date with someone my mother wanted to set me up with. I’d tried that once ages ago. That had been the princess incident I’d mentioned earlier. Nope, didn’t want to do that again.
“Well, you don’t have to be so gruff about it,” my mother admonished me. She huffed.
“Sorry, Mother,” I said. “I’ll be better next time.”
“Good.” She patted me on the arm again.
I eyed the Manhattan that was sitting behind me longingly, but picked up the half-finished Shirley Temple instead and took a sip of it to wet my throat. It was starting to feel really hot in here, and it wasn’t because Mei tended to keep the temperature around 80 degrees.
“So, Li,” my mother said after another few minutes. “About your brother, Taio.”
Once more, I groaned. I should have known this was coming. The rest had been warm up. This was the real point of her visit.
I pulled on my face and opened my mouth, but my mother talked over me like I wasn’t there.
“What happened between you two? You used to be so close to one another. I really think you should reach out to him. I know he’s hurting on the inside, since he can’t come see you.”
Ugh. She just did not understand. How could I make her see my side for once?
“Mom, it’s not–”
She interrupted me again. “I saw him recently, you know. Him and his family. He has a little boy, did you know that? A handsome, strapping young man. And a beautiful wife. You could be a little more like him, you know.”
Oh, great. Another comparison to my “perfect” older brother. Just what I needed to make my birthday feel extra special.
“He told me he misses you,” my mother continued. “He wants to see you, Li, but he feels he cannot reach out himself. He said you would not answer his calls.”
Now there was an understatement.
“So I told him I would come and see you in his stead.”
I almost choked on the Shirley Temple. I sincerely doubted every part of that. It was probably just my mother’s attempt to repair the family bond once again. I could appreciate why it was important to her, but my issues with my brother were my own to deal with.
“Mother, I… I just don’t know,” I said at last. There. It was better than a no. Maybe she’d let it drop if I left it open ended.
She gave me a warm smile. “Just think about it, Li.” She patted me on the arm again then was quiet for a while.
I watched her sit there for a while, nursing her drink, looking around like she was interested in my friends, when I knew she probably didn’t really care, unsure of what to do.
Finally, I spoke. “Look, Mom. I’ll think about it, okay? It’s just… well…”
My mother looked up at me expectantly, but I never got a chance to finish the sentence.
A woman crashed through the entrance to the bar a moment later, stumbling down the stairs. Even from this distance, I could see she was covered almost head to toe in blood.
“Damian!” she said, staggering forward another half step before she fell to her knees. “I’m looking… for… Damian!” Then she collapsed.
2
The bar erupted into chaos. Everyone got up from their
chairs or stools, including my mother, as I raced over to where the unconscious woman lay.
Isaiah was the first to reach her. He laid a hand on her wrist. “She’s got a pulse!” he cried out.
Phew. That was one less worry. Still had to figure out who she was and why she wanted me so bad, but at least now I’d get that chance. It would have been a real shame if she’d died before we figured that much out.
Besides, she looked halfway familiar under all that blood.
I reached her a moment later, Mei by my side, and crouched down to get a better look at her. She had close-cropped, curly, black hair. Her face looked a little gaunt and her eyes were slightly sunken in, but not outside of the normal range for a human. No pointy ears, wings, weird scales, or hairs sticking out, so she likely wasn’t a fae. Thank goodness. I’d had my fill of them a few weeks ago.
Well, except for LaLuna and Grace, of course.
Her face, arms, and shirt were all covered in bright red, sticky blood. It didn’t look to be all that fresh, though. Several hours old, perhaps. Even her pants had some blood on them, though her shoes seemed to have been spared. The tops of them at least, if not the soles.
Which was good for her, because they looked expensive.
In spite of the blood, I didn’t see any obvious injuries on her. Nothing that would have created that kind of blood loss. I’d need to clean her up a bit and look closer to be sure, though.
“How’s she doing?” I asked Isaiah. He was cradling her head at the moment.
“I’m not sure. She looks to be fine, other than the fact that she’s unconscious.”
Mei pressed a cloth into my hands, and I took it and rubbed at her face to clean it up. A moment later, her face was clear—if a little on the pale side—and I knew where I recognized her from.
“Charmaine?” Mei said in a hesitant tone. She was frowning deeply at the woman on the floor, but there was a flash of recognition there, too.