Page 16 of Savage Hope

If we were, we wouldn’t be held captive. Would we?

“We’re not?—”

“But. You. Are,” she bites, snapping her fingers. Darkness fills the space as the classroom devolves into chaos. Horror burns through my limbs. She’s enjoying this control, this dominance, far too much. “Not only are you descendants of supernaturals, but you’re not the age you believe you are either.”

What the hell?

“The first two years you are here, you will not fully remember. Think about it now. Think about it clearly. Remind me of the first memories you have at the school. You see, it's all an illusion to keep you safe. Really, you should be thankful that we took the courtesy of keeping you calm as you edge closer to the almighty year of your life.” Standing, she runs her hands over her skirt, a light illuminating her from above so all I can see is her snarling face. “So, to be clear, it’s not V’s eighteenth birthday today, it’s her twentieth.”

“What? That's not possible,” someone calls out, but the darkness means I can’t pinpoint who.

“So, without further ado, let’s celebrate today as if it’s the day you leave and the day I finally get to see the back of you all.”

But where are we going? What are we doing?

“Thank you for giving me the pleasure of making you all comfortable for travel,” she states, and I shake my head in disbelief, finally finding my tongue.

“What does that even mean?” I blurt, and she snickers, baring her teeth as her head tilts back for a moment.

“It means sleep tight, my children, for you will have many challenges ahead of you.”

6

P

Awarmth floods my veins, tingling through my limbs as my eyelids pinch and light flickers through. With a twitch in my finger and a shiver down my spine, I startle awake. My eyes are wide, feasting on the new surroundings I find myself in, but it offers nothing in the way of an answer.

We're moving. A coach, I presume. I'm fastened into my seat as if I did it myself, along with the other students who were present in the class with Mrs. Stephens before the world went dark.

Pressed against the window, I look to my left to see S groggily coming to, a frown pinching her eyebrows together as she glances around our new confines. Turning away from her, I focus on everything I can, from the air conditioning blowing above, to the murmured whispers coming from farther down the bus, and the rumble of the engine beneath us, but none of it tells me where we are or where we’re going.

A sharp inhale to my left startles me, and I turn to see S’s boyfriend sitting across the aisle with T beside him, but I quickly dart my attention away from them. They look just as confused as I feel.

My mind begins to race a mile a minute as panic kicks in and I scramble, patting at my chest and legs until I stuff my hand into my blazer pocket and find the familiar piece of metal that I'm searching for. Straining my fist around the coin, I press it into my palm tighter than ever, the imprint burning into my soul.

I don’t care where we go as long as I have this with me.

Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention to the window, hoping to find something outside that may help me understand what’s going on, but I have no idea where we are. Not a single clue. The road moves under us and there's no one else in sight as the sun looks ready to set in the distance.

Pinching the bridge of my nose as I take another measured breath, I turn back to the inside of the bus, hoping a second glance around the space may offer me something new, but it seems everyone else is seeking the same information. We’re all glancing around and not one of us has an answer.

It’s weird, though. Everyone is so focused on observing their surroundings, no one’s actually causing a scene. There’s no shouting, no screaming, no raging. Just a sense of bewilderment that grows with every set of eyes that opens.

Brushing a loose curl back out of my face, I clear my throat just as S speaks.

“What's going on, P?” she asks, and my lips twist. Staring into her eyes, I find the familiar storm of panic I’ve seen in my own reflection countless times.

My lips twist. I don't even know what to say. Nervously rubbing them together, I shrug. “I don't know, S,” I admit, hating the taste of it on my tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever acknowledged a lack of insight before, but there’s no use lying.

I guess there’s a first time for everything.

S nods, the uncertainty and anxiety obvious in the rigid set of her shoulders and ticking of her jaw in time to my own.

Easing my hold on my coin, I lace my fingers together in my lap and focus on the bracelets that cradle my wrists. I don't remember a time when they weren't there. They've been welded in place for as long as I can remember, and along with the coin, they feel like a piece of…home. I don't know why, there's just something about them that feels like a part of me.

“Are you okay, P?” T asks, and I internally recoil at his intrusion to my thoughts. I try my best to suppress the snark and hold back the eye roll threatening to take over as I manage a grumble.

“I’m fine.”

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