Page 2 of Savage Hope

“Because until you turn twenty-one, if something happens to one of you, it happens to both of you.”

“If something happens?”

My father glances over his shoulder, looking to my mother for help. She offers me her hand, and I take it, basking in the warmth of her touch as she pulls me into her side. “If they were to die before then, you would too, and vice versa, so it’s important for us to protect you both at all costs.”

Horror blossoms in my veins as I gape at my mother.

“B-but you said I wasn’t going to die yet!” I tremble beneath the weight of her words, and she nods.

“And you won’t. Not when we can protect you. This is a good thing, Honey. I promise.”

Two words, and my confidence in her grows. They have a particular way of calming the storm inside of me. Guided by trust, I let their words wash over me, drawing the power of them into my bones as I exhale slowly.

I promise.

Two simple words, and I shake the tremors that threaten to make me explode.

With my free hand, I wipe the tears from my face and push my hair back, while my other hand clings to my mother as though my life depends on it.

Seemingly, it does.

“Just a pinprick?” I ask, glancing at my father, who remains crouched beside me, and he nods.

“Just a pinprick,” he repeats, digging a hand into his pocket to reveal a flash of gold. “Hold on to this; it will always protect you, okay?”

He holds out a gold coin and I watch in awe as it shimmers under the sun. Taking it from his grasp, I bring it closer, notingthe pattern on one side of it. It’s etched so delicately it’s not easy to make out at first, but it almost looks as though it’s the face of a joker. A silly hat with bells on the ends and a long face, just like the ones we’ve read about in books, from times when blood curses didn’t hold us all captive.

Turning it over in my hand, initials adorn the other side and nothing else.

T.M.O.G.

“Now, are we ready to get this part over with so we can move on to the birthday party for the princess herself?” my father asks, drawing my attention back to him, and I nod, slipping the coin into the small pocket sewn into my dress.

If anything is going to make this better, it’s cake.

My eyes are fixatedon the Band-Aid wrapped around my finger. There had been a single drop of blood left on the very tip of my finger when they were done. The red stain spread across the fabric of the bandage, making it look so much worse than it was. Father says I won’t even know it’s there in the morning.

It wasn’t exciting, but it wasn’t disastrous, either. It was just a nurse with some kind of device that pricked the end of my finger and did…something.

I’ve always known I had a blood kin—we all do—everyone in my class at least, but until today it had always been some kind of faraway idea that I never really even thought about. Now, someone is out there going through what I am going through, and come tomorrow, we’ll officially know of one another.

What’s that going to feel like?

As an only child, the prospect of a blood kin instinctively fills me with excitement and questions of whether they will like meor not, maybe even become a friend, but reality quickly rears its ugly head and I know the likelihood of that happening is slim.

We have eleven years. Eleven years where we will both exist before the curse takes effect. Only one can survive. No one has told me the details of how it is decided, but my fate is known. My fate is confirmed. There’s nothing I can do about it.

“Where is the birthday girl hiding?” My mother’s sing-song voice pulls me from my thoughts and my hiding spot.

Leaving the safety of my treehouse behind, I hurry over the long grass to where she stands at the kitchen door. My father is a step behind her, and I spy the flickering candles on the cake behind them.

Genuine happiness spreads through my chest for the first time today, leaving a wide smile on my face. Eager to blow out the little balls of fire, I move to sprint into the house, but my mother plants her hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

“Hold up, birthday girl. You have a gift to open first.”

Turning to her with wide eyes, I spy the wrapped box in her hand. The silver bow holding it in place is soft against my touch, but the wonder it brings quickly fades when I tear the gift open.

The contents almost tumble to the ground, but my mother catches them just in time. I’m too busy staring in awe at the two golden bangles in her grasp to do anything but appreciate how they sparkle.

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