My dearest Jacob –

It feels weird to finally have a name in my mind as I write to you, even an image, as indistinct as it may be. I hope you’ll look like your father. You’ll be a heartbreaker if you do. If I’m very lucky, I’ll get to see it for myself.

Today was the first time that I could tell that you’re a boy on the sonogram. I don’t think your father figured it out. He always looks at the screen like he can’t quite believe that it’s real – that you are real. I doubt he’ll really believe until he holds you in his arms. I hope I’ll be there to see that, too.

He’s the one who chose your name. I didn’t ask, but I think there’s a story there. Maybe you’ll ask him, some day. I had picked Angela if you had turned out to be a girl. It was my grandmother’s name.

Boy or girl, I really had no preference, and neither did Andrew – or at least that’s what he says, but I know him enough to believe him. We hoped and waited for you for such a long time that, as long as you are healthy, nothing else matters. And as far as I can tell, you are healthy. A perfect little boy. Our perfect little boy.

It hurts so much to think I might not get to meet you.

I’ve said it many times through this journal and I’ll say it many times still. If something happens to me, do NOT blame yourself. You didn’t choose to be born, didn’t choose your parents or agree to the magic I had to use to bring you to us. Anything that happens to me was by my own hand and choice. No one knows, not even your father, what the risks are. My choice, and one I would make a hundred, a thousand times, as long as you come to this world healthy, and you will, I am sure of it.

The last time I wrote in this journal, I said I would tell you about meeting your father, so here we go.

The very first time I saw him, we were in a magic shop. There was something about him that caught my attention right away and drew me to him. I wasn’t finished browsing, but he was already at the counter, so I grabbed the first book that fell under my hand and went to stand in line behind him. That was when I realized what he was. I had met a few vampires before, I even worked with one at the lab, and I always feel something when I’m close to a vampire, some kind of energy that raises the hair at the back of my neck. I’ve never known anyone else who had the same ‘warning’ sense, but over the years I figured out that it was linked to my magic abilities. Vampires were created from magic, long ago, a little like you were, and I can feel that somehow.

Once I knew why he had caught my attention, what intrigued me was what he was buying in that shop: supplies that I recognized as the ingredients needed to revoke a vampire’s invitation from a home. What could a vampire possibly want to do with that, I wondered. I almost worked up the courage to ask, but already the clerk had rung up his purchase. He smiled at me on his way out. I doubt you care to know about that, but he really has a lovely smile. I hope you get that from him, too.

I watched him leave, and I promised myself that if I ever saw him again, I’d ask why he needed these magic supplies. When we met again, I did ask. I try not to break my promises, especially the ones I make to myself. If you get anything from me, I hope it’ll be that.

One last thing for today. I don’t know if I believe in fate. Some days, I think I do, and at other times I feel stupid for thinking about it. But the magic book I bought almost by accident the day I met your father was the very same book that gave me the final clue on how to bring you into our lives.

I messed up.

I messed up really, really badly. And I’m lucky Andrew has a sense of humor or I would be out of a job today. I don’t think many bosses would be all right with being turned into six years old kids.

It all started with those stupid glasses. I’ve always had 20/20 vision, and part of me was proud of that. It’s a stupid thing to be proud about, but there you go. Lately I’ve had trouble reading the small print in one of my oldest magic books. Every time he sees me squinting, Craig says I look cute like that. Subtlety is not my husband’s strong point.

I finally went to the optometrist and got glasses. I hate, hate, HATE them. But they do help me read the small print, and the not so small print, too, so I guess I did need them.

Next thing I knew, Craig was hurt. It’s not the first time, far from it. I’ve lost count of how many times demons spilled his blood or broke his bones in the past fifteen years. It’ll never, ever stop feeling like I get stabbed in the gut whenever the phone rings and someone – usually Andrew – tells me my husband is in the hospital. And it’s getting worse, because Craig isn’t as young as he used to be. Not as fast, not as strong, and not as quick to get back on his feet after he gets hurt.

He’s been on bed rest for a week, and it’s driving him crazy. Three days ago, he made a joke about how he’s starting to see the attraction of being a vamp and never growing any older. I know he’d never really consider it, not any more than I would – I know it because we talked about it, long ago – but just the same it started me thinking.

Why don’t vampires grow any older? Why do they heal faster? It has to be magic, but what kind of magic? And would it be possible to replicate it?

I’m good at magic. Very good. Something else I pride myself upon. So I started researching the question. Books didn’t give me much, so I came up with a couple of experiments. I asked Andrew and Nicholas if they could give me a few drops of blood each for research, and they trust me so much that they didn’t hesitate before agreeing, didn’t even ask what I was researching exactly. Good thing, too. I would have felt like a complete idiot admitting I was looking for a way to slow down or reverse aging so I wouldn’t need glasses anymore – and so Craig wouldn’t get hurt so often.

But I did feel like a lot worse than an idiot when something went terribly wrong, and my experiment on their blood samples affected them – and turned them into little kids.

Cute kids. Adorable kids, even. They'd have been even more adorable if they could have spent more than two minutes together without arguing. They lost their memories, but they argued just as much as they do as grown ups. Without the making up, thankfully. That would have been too disturbing for words.

No harm done in the end, I suppose. They had a fun day out from what I’ve heard, and even though Jacob wasn’t thrilled at first, by the end of the day he was ready to give his fathers a second chance at being human by raising them himself. He’s a great kid, but I doubt he realized what he was offering to take on.

After all this, I think I’ll be leaving that bit of magic alone. Craig will heal on his own, and one of these days, he’ll have to stop fighting. And as for me, I guess I’ll need to get used to those damn glasses.

Well, that’s it. It’s time. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time -- for more than one reason. So many things could go wrong… and that’s not even counting the magic.

I’ve checked and rechecked great granddad’s calculations to make sure the alignment is indeed taking place tonight. Everything checked out, of course; he knew what he was doing. I went to the clearing two days ago to make sure the circle was undisturbed. While I was there, I marked the trees to find my way more easily. By day, I could get to the place with my eyes closed, but the last thing I want is to get lost in the woods tonight. Hunter would never let me hear the end of it. I’ve packed, unpacked and repacked my supplies twice. I keep thinking that I’m forgetting something but no, it’s all there: sleeping bag, candles, three jars of colored pigments. Lube.

I almost forgot the lube.

I guess we don’t need lube, not it we keep things simple, but I rather hope we will need it. I hope Hunter won’t try to run off once he realizes why I brought him there. Not that he could run off, not before the spell is complete, but he might try.

How is it possible to know someone as well as I know him and still have no idea how he’ll react?

Maybe I should just go alone and do the spell on my own. That way I wouldn’t risk losing my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.

But what if it works like I hope it will? What if I don’t lose him? What if we become more than friends tonight?

It’s got to be worth the risk…