Vengeance (Burning Beliefs #2)

Epilogue

I hum softly to get him to sleep. With the chaos of the war, the rebuilding of our home, and the attention Liam needs, I'm surprised I have enough energy to stand up straight. I mean, if normal parents have to deal with the lack of sleep, how come I had to choose the short straw, and deal with not only crying in the middle of the night, but random bursts of powers and explosions?

But it's not like I don't love my baby. After his magical mishaps, he always giggles and smiles and waves his chubby little arms around in happiness. Everyone has taken a liking to Liam, fortunately. Even Serena can't resist smiling when he spouts random gibberish at the breakfast table. He's just recently mastered basic hand-eye-coordination, so he likes to nosedive his spoon into his bowl of Lucky Charms, and splatter cereal all over his high-chair Dad just "found lying around". We got Liam picture books and puzzles and multitudes of stuffed animals. If we can tolerate it, his favorite show to watch in the morning is "Jake and the Neverland Pirates" reruns on Disney Channel.

Today was a peaceful day. Dad decided not to send us out to fight in other battles. Even when half of their forces were obliterated in the first battle, which has been nicknamed Dracula's Massacre, the Angel reserves have continued to fight alongside us. Our army is actually growing every day. Some people converted to our side. Others, hunters who were unaware before, join our cause because of Sam and Dean and Zach. Zephira's influence has gained us more witches and Wiccans. However, even as we grow stronger, rumours fluctuate back to us from the battlefield. People claim that the opposition is experimenting with new monsters, like the Mother of All had done before. Claudia is desperate for soldiers.

Two other major battles were fought. One we lost, and my father didn't speak for three days afterwards, and the other, we won. We currently stand seven-to-five against the Elite on Dean's count.

It's an extreme relief that I don't have to participate in the field. I help with weapon stock, and with battle plans, of course, but I don't have to cross swords in any actual battles. I get to sit at home with my son. I get to be a mother and pretend for him that the world is sunshine and rainbows, that he wasn't a single speck of light brought into the world on a day when the world was darkest. I've had the date engraved into my mind and tatooed onto my ankle: December 19th. Dracula's Massacre, Liam Grayson Winchester's birthday.

His nursery is where the computer room was. This place has gone through so many transitions, from prison, to CIA office, to a bunker for the other Nephilim, and now, to a nursery. Amy, Serena, and Zephira helped me pick out colors to paint the room. Wizards and fairies and dragons on bright, puffy clouds were stenciled onto the walls for decoration. Liam wears shoplifted clothes from fancy baby supply stores. His blankets are some of mine that Dad kept with him for twenty-five years, and his favorite stuffed animal was Serena's before Dad sent us away. It's a faded giraffe with overstuffed hooves and a cartoonish smile. He's been nicknamed Georgie.

It's nighttime now. Liam has fallen into an almost-sleep-schedule, meaning I'm starting to regain some of the hours I've lost since his birth. I'm humming the little song Dad used to sing to us.

"Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree," I sing to Liam.

His eyes are closed gently, and his tiny lungs breathe softly. My entirety is overwhelmed with a fierce love for my child. A sweet little boy who's so new to the shiny world he was born into. At least, that's the way I like him to see it.

"Merry, merry, king of the bush is he," I continue the song, gently rocking my baby in my arms.

He's wrapped up in a soft, knitten blanket the color of pure snow. Everything about him makes me smile: his small fingers wrapped tightly around mine, his quick, deep breathing as he falls asleep, how he calls out in a made-up language when the rest of our family gets home from the battlefield.