prologue
Have you ever believed, ever so deeply, that you found the one, and then be torn from them? Before I say anymore, you need to know something about me. I’m not normal. As “important” as they say I am, I just wish I could be…normal. I have vampire ancestry. Now, most of you might think I am a cold-blooded monster. Personally, I agree. Though, being a half blood isn’t always a bad thing. For example, I am always going to be able to protect the ones I love, including my exact love. To be completely truthful, I am not happy about being a half blood.
My mother would get excited about Full-bloods. She always expected me to be a full-blood, like her. But when she had me with my father, a human, I was born a half-blood. Because of my human blood and human heart, I don’t have complete control over my strength, can feel my wounds, and ,if fatal enough, die from my wounds. I’ve always wanted to be normal, like everyone else. There was actually a time when I thought I was normal. But that was before my mother died. That day is a very distant memory, but it seems so clear. I was called to her room by the sound of her pneumonia drenched voice. I entered her room swiftly and orderly before I knelt down at her bedside. I looked at her face. Bags ringed her eyes and the outlining of her face. Her sweet smile curved from cheek to cheek. Her graying blonde hair was soaked with her sweat. More than anything, I just wanted to hold her and comfort her until she did go. But, that would hurt more when she did. Her ruby lips and innocent hazel eyes attracted attention from her pale skin. Although I would never wish to see my mother desolate, it made me uneasy to see her at this angle of glee. The tattoo on her right arm was glowing a bit, but I thought it was because of the lavender light pouring through the window from the sunlight. I never understood it, but I never questioned it either.
“Darling—“She began. She pulled out a sterling silver chain, which held a beautiful red crystal. As she pulled it across her face, it glowed black. She pulled my hand gently to the other that was gripping the accessory. She placed it in my palm and sealed it.
“Please, protect this gem. You are the only one who can” She announced. She had a serious tone in her voice I had not heard before. It put my nerves on edge. I looked into her eyes. The light was nearly gone. Her life was slipping away…slowly. I nodded and quickly left her room. I stood in the hallway and opened my hand. The gem was glowing a bright red. I looked at it with confusion. I thought about what my mom said and wrapped it around my neck. What did she mean? That night, I cried myself to sleep. The thought of losing my mother was too much for me. I awoke to a scream. I did not run in to see what happened. I already knew. My mother was gone. My grandmother came into town the next night and stayed with us. She was upset about her youngest daughter dying, but she also was able to console me. A day after her arrival, she called me into her room. I crept into the elderly smelling room. She was holding an old, wrinkled piece of paper that had my mother’s handwriting. She pushed it into my hands and I read it line by line. It was fairly short, but to me it felt like a seven page essay because of her untimely death.
“Dear mom—“It read. I looked up to my grandmother and she motioned for me to keep reading.
“I don’t think this will pass. I get worse every day. I want you to take Kyra to Beth and tell her everything. And I mean everything. I want Beth to teach her, I want her capable of using the de morte. I also want her to learn all of our history. I love you, and make sure Kyra knows I love her too…Sincerely Martha” I finished. I had tears crawling down my cheeks. I looked at my grandmother. Some of her grey hair was coming out of her ponytail and was swaying in the wind from the open window nearby.
“I talked it over with your father—
“Greg is not my father!” I snapped.
She let out a sigh then looked at a framed photo of my blood father and mother on their wedding day. They had cake all over their mouths because they started goofing around during the dinner. Now, you are probably wondering what happened to my parent’s marriage. They started to fight a lot. Verbally hurting each other as if it were a fight to the death…One day, when I was six my father packed everything and left. He never returned and my mom remarried Greg.
“I talked it over with Greg, I will be moving in with you so I can help around the house. And I will be taking you to a home school my friend runs.” She said in a low, gentle tone. I never really liked my grandmother’s company. But I guess it is better than no one. She reached for my hand and connected her palm to mine. Then covered it with her other hand.
“Kyra dear, you are very special. And you will understand in a month’s time. On your thirteenth birthday.” she said in a hoarse voice.
I was actually surprised her voice was not that way more often considering how much her mouth flaps. I left and waited for my birthday to come. And for the next 3 weeks, I awaited the day my grandmother would explain my mother’s letter. Let me just say, those weeks went by very, very slowly but it finally came. I heard the soft voice of my grandmother bounce from room to room until it was outside mine. I looked up and there she was. She was smiling and was about to say something when my mouth suddenly began to hurt.
