Page 1 of Savage Hope

1

P

TEN YEARS OLD

“Are you excited, Honey?”

My fingers curl into the fabric of my birthday dress as I rub my lips nervously. My mother and father smile down at me, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I shrug, my shoulders moving just a little and my mother’s smile weakens as she leans closer, running her thumb over my cheek in comfort. It eases the sharp pain in my chest a little, but I still can’t bring myself to feel the excitement they’re waiting for.

“It’s going to be okay, Darling,” my father says, crouching in front of me, his eyes still warm behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “We’re right here with you—every step of the way. It’s simply a pin prick this morning, and then in a few days, we’ll find your blood connection.”

My bottom lip wobbles as tears gather in my eyes, the storm rattling in my chest, growing with every breath until I can’t contain it anymore. “But I don’t want to die.”

There, I said it.

I let the dam break open and the truth reveals itself. The soft smile on my mother’s face confirms my outburst isn’t a surprise as the sweeping of her thumb continues.

My hands are clenched in my dress. The soft silver color that matches my hair is a crumpled mess, but I can’t let go. Speaking the words hasn’t calmed the pain and worry simmering inside of me; it only burns brighter now that the words have escaped my lips.

“You’re not going to die,” she soothes, tucking a loose curl of hair behind my ear as I sniffle. “I’m right here. I didn’t die, neither did your father.”

They’re standing right in front of me, but that doesn’t change what I know. It doesn’t change the truth. “But Georgia said it’s a blood curse, that I can’t control until I’m twenty-one, and if I haven’t by the time I turn twenty-two, I’m going to die. We’reallgoing to die.” My sobs turn into a wail and my eyelids clamp shut, refusing to see the truth that I know will flash in my parents’ eyes.

It’s not just Georgia, either. We learned all about it in school this week. The teachers spoke of it too. They weren’t quite as blunt as Georgia was, but still, a darkness seeped into their gaze.

“Darling, open your eyes.” I scrunch them tighter, feeling the tears track down my face, but my father pushes on. “I need you to look at me so I know you truly hear me.”

Lips press against my temple, and my mother’s hand on my cheek is gone. Despite my hesitation, I pry my eyes open and settle my stare on my father. I look at him, just like he wants, but this time, Ireallylook at him. It feels like the first time I’m genuinely taking note of the man I love so much.

His brown hair is a mess from the constant fidgeting of his fingers swiping through it throughout the day; a nervous habit he’s always had. His blue eyes are piercing, made brighter by the glasses that frame them. His nose is sharp, his lips wide, and the dots of freckles across his cheeks makes him look younger than I guess he is. An old band t-shirt is hidden behind a worn black blazer and his tattered jeans fall over a pair of frayed sneakers.

I hope I don’t get my sense of style from him when I’m older—assuming I get to be older.

The reminder sends another pang of panic down my spine, but it’s quickly quelled by my father’s hands wrapping around my wrists as he brings my attention back to his face.

“I won’t lie to you, Darling, what they say is true, but not yet, not now. Today is all about testing your blood so we can find out who was born at the exact same time as you, who your blood kin is. The curse doesn’t take effect until you’re twenty-one. There is time. Lots and lots of time.”

My face crumples as I shake my head. “Why do we have to know now if it doesn’t matter until then?”

Why scare me now?

Why tell me at all?

“Because it’s important for both families to work together to ensure you both remain safe.”

I rear back, looking over my father’s shoulder to where my mother stands. Her hands are clenched together, nerves flourishing into the air around her as she nibbles at her bottom lip. Her flowery dress blows gently in the wind, the small cardigan over her shoulders providing little more than an extra thin layer of protection against the autumn weather. Her hair is as silver as mine, and our eyes are the same shade of blue, too, but the smile plastered on her face doesn’t resemble me at all.

I don’t think I’m going to smile again.

Ever.

“Why do we want to keep them safe too if only one of us can survive?”

It doesn’t make sense to me. Not even a little. They’ve talked about it all week at school, and I know the people inside the medical center a few steps away are waiting to take my blood so they have the results, but why?

My parents seem excited about it, encouraging even, but it doesn’t make sense.

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