Mich’s heart gave a sharp, painful jab. “R-Remove?”
Camille nodded. “We can isolate the powered genes in you, find them in Dante, and take them out.”
Mich paled at the matter-of-fact tone of Camille’s voice. “But won’t that . . . change him?”
Camille made a sound somewhere in between a snort and a chuckle. “Of course it will. Now, the transmogrifier will compensate and make sure he isn’t deformed in any way, but there’s no way to tell how different he’ll be. We WILL be taking out something that is intrinsic to him, after all.”
Mich looked at Dante. How could she possibly make a decision that might change him forever? She had grown so used to the way his small form fit on her lap, his laugh, the stern, Nesmithian glare that was asserting itself even at six . . . moreover she was used to the way he fit into her life, as if he’d always belonged there.
“I-I don’t know. I’ll have to discuss it with Nev first. I’ll . . . let you know, okay?” Mich called for Dante, who reluctantly left his new playmate. He took his mother’s hand without hesitation and followed her out the door.
“Camille, please tell me you’re not serious about puttin’ him back in the transmogrifier,” Ungerret said. He’d stayed very quiet during the Femmes’ discussion, watching Mich’s son with a small smile on his face.
“Of course I’m not,” Camille said. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Listen to me,” Camille said, placing a hand on her clone’s arm to reassure him. “Mich is going to talk to Nev, and if those two decide to follow my ‘suggestion,’ I’ll resign as a Frodis Femme.”
~*~
“She offered to WHAT?”
“Nev, calm down.”
Nev rounded on Mich, his dark brows tightly drawn together into a formidable glare. “Calm down? You’re gonna mess around with Dante and I’m supposed to calm down?”
“I never said that, Nev. I just said that Camille offered it as an option.”
Nev raked his fingers through his bangs. “But why, Mich? I don’t understand.”
“Look, Nev—I love Dante as much as you do. But . . . I just don’t want him to have to go through life like a loaded, half-cocked gun. I’ve had to live that way for too long, and it’s brought me nothing but pain.”
Nev bit his lip. Linked as he was with Mich, he knew firsthand how deep and dark her temper ran, spreading like black vines through her whole being. And if Dante, who possessed the same powers as his mother, was the same way . . .
“I know, Mich. But . . . you can’t just put him back in ‘cause you’re afraid of how he might turn out. I mean, you’ve seen—there isn’t a temperamental bone in that kid’s body.”
“Not now, Nev. I wasn’t a hothead until I was a teenager. What happens when Dante turns thirteen, fourteen, fifteen?”
Nev looped his long arms around Mich’s shoulders. “Then we’ll do what all parents do, Mich. We’ll handle it—if and when it happens. But I think Dante’s just fine like he is, and I know you do too.”
Mich sighed and rested her cheek on his chest; Nev took a moment to privately enjoy the feeling of providing protective reassurance. “You’re right, Nev.”
He chuckled. “Hey, I’m a Nesmith. We’re always right.”
If he expected her to laugh or splort or swat him, he was disappointed. She reached up and laced her fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “I’d say that’s about right,” she said as they parted.
“Huh,” Nev said. “Where’s Dante now?”
Mich nodded towards the new door set in the middle of the wall. Realizing that their clone family was now too large to sustain even in two separate apartments, Mich had gained St. Matthew’s blessing and taken over the bottom floor of her old place next door. The new door opened into a hallway, which led to an expansive living room and kitchen, and enough rooms for all her clones. “Down the hall in his room.”
Nev went over to the inner door and bolted it. “Good. I think we need some time alone.”
Mich smiled lazily. “We do?”
Nev walked back over to her and took her by the hands, leading her over to the bed. “Yeah. Come to think of it, we need a lot.”
~*~
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Whoa!” Mich held the plate of eggs over her head as Dante tore by, followed closely by a barking Rin. She turned neatly on her heel and set the eggs on the table.
“Rin! Dante! Breakfast! Now!” Nev shouted.
Dante skidded to a halt, leaping high in the air as Rin nearly plowed into him. He twisted around in midair and landed with a loud thump. “Ha!” he crowed. “Beat that, Rinny!”
Rin turned and scowled at Dante. “No fair cheating!” he whined.
“Hey, both of you quit it,” Nev said. “Dante, get up here and eat. Right now. Rin, you too.”
Dante reluctantly crawled to his feet and slid into one of the kitchen chairs. Though his six year-old legs had dangled almost a foot about the ground, his toes now scraped the carpet. Mich set the plate down in front of him, reaching out to tousel his long hair. He’s growing up too fast, she thought.
It wasn’t a matter of perception—Dante had aged almost three years in two months, sometimes growing a full inch overnight. Mich had gone to Camille, who’d been unable to account for his rapid aging—or suggest a way to reverse it. “I suggest you just enjoy every possible second you have with him,” she’d said. “At least until we find a cure.”
“Dante, slow down,” Nev said, taking another sip of coffee. “You’re gonna choke.”
Dante nodded and slowed his chewing, taking smaller bites. Mich wandered over to Nev and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning down to kiss along his neck and shoulder. The only move Nev made was a slight tilt of his head, brushing his forehead along his wife’s cheek. “I know what you’re thinkin’, Mich,” he murmured. “It’s gonna be okay.”
She hugged him even tighter. “I know. As long as we’re together . . . we’ll be fine.”
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