Ch. 1 & Ch. 2

Chapter 1: Hanael (Present Day)

My palm slams hard on the wooden table. “I will not repeat this again, seer. Tell me how to break the demon’s kiss curse.” 

Lily fakes a dramatic sigh. She shakes her head almost sympathetically, her voluptuous red lips curving up. “You know, you’re not the first demon who threatened me like that. I believe even the Dark King—once upon a time—went to me asking the same question.”

“Zach?”

She shrugs. “Who else? Go on, ask him. I give the same answer to all of you.”

“Bullshit, Lily. I’m not playing games with you. I know how your service works, and I’m willing to pay whatever price it takes. Take this curse off me.”

Her eyes dance evilly. 

At times like this, I wonder if she’s more demon than the rest of us. 

“You’re the one bullshitting me, demon. For eternity, the Children have agreed over only one thing. A curse for a curse. A life for a life. A blood for a blood. In your case, it will be something akin to a kiss for a kiss. What don’t you understand with it? You’ve been pestering me for seventeen years. Imagine, seventeen years.” 

I rake my hair with my hands. “I did it. It’s not working.”

Her eyebrow raises up. “True love’s kiss, demon. Only true love’s kiss. Go back only when you sort it out. Though by then, I’ll be betting my life that you wished you hadn’t.”

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Chapter 2: Samantha (Present Day)

A loud knock stops me and my dad from our late dinner. We look at each other, a mixture of confusion and fear showing on both of our faces. I wonder who can it be? We never have visitors, unless it’s the Clares or Mr. Henry, which is impossible at this dead hour of the night. 

“Samantha,” Dad says, “go back to your room.” His voice is clipped and tense. 

I nod, trying to brush away the sudden chill and dread that creeps into my stomach. I climb the stairs all the way to the top and pause, not really going inside my room. Silently, I tiptoe and crouch on the corner where I know any visitors below will not see me.

My heart is pounding, and I don’t know if it’s from fear or excitement. I guess a part of me is excited by the thought that I might see someone new tonight, but a whole lot part of me is afraid. 

In my seventeen years of existence, only five people have known I exist. Or I guess it’s more accurate to say that only five people have seen me, flesh and blood. First is Dad. Second is Mr. Henry, my all-around home-school teacher, who has been teaching me since I uttered my first ABC. Third is Caleb Clare, my only friend. Then Caleb’s father and mother, Theodore and Miranda Clare, which are the only friends Dad seems to have. 

“It is for your safety,” Dad would always say whenever I asked him why I was not allowed to go out of the house and attend the school like normal children do. He would always lock the doors and ground floor windows whenever he went out of the house for work so I wouldn’t be able to go out. Not that we live in a big city with robbers and thieves lurking just about in every corner, nor am I in danger of being kidnapped, because it’s quite the opposite. The town in which we live in is just a small one that doesn’t even exist in Google Maps. Seriously. I’ve searched for it. The town of Frost has a population of only around 3,000 people, with everyone knowing each other’s business, or so from what I believe. The little me then thought, How can a small town be dangerous? Is it so unsafe that I couldn’t go out? I tried to press Dad to give me another reason, but he would always change the topic, my question always falling on deaf ears. 

I did try to run away, of course. I was twelve years old when the grand opportunity presented itself. Dad forgot to lock our huge double doors as he went to the Forest to get some logs. So with pounding heart, wobbly knees, and trembling hands, I twisted the knob and stepped out of our house for the first time in my life. It was the last time too, because that didn’t end well. The moment I walked out of the house, a painful burning feeling that I’d never once imagined possible for anyone to feel coursed throughout my body, almost charring my skin in an instant. I was extremely lucky Dad was not yet far away from home then. He heard my cries and got to me just in time. He was able to apply some cooling ointments on my skin right after. Dad said after that the real reason I couldn’t go out of the house is that I’m sick. He never expounded on what sickness I have, nor do I ask. Truth is, I’m afraid to know. I’m afraid to know that maybe the danger doesn’t lie outside, but inside of me. The scars from the burns were gone after a week, but the memory of the pain from that event lasted in my mind, and I’ve learned never to try again. 

I hear a sob of a woman from below, cutting my thoughts. I peek and see Dad carrying an unconscious boy in his arms, followed by the crying woman, who I assume is the mother. 

“What happened?” Dad asks as he lays the boy gently on the couch. He feels for a pulse on the boy’s wrist. 

“He just passed out. I swear he was okay. We were laughing, and he was telling a funny story, and he, and he—” She weeps, not being able to continue.

Dad shakes his head lightly. He stands and retrieves a stethoscope from his bag.

“How long?”

“About two hours ago.” The woman is now shaking uncontrollably from her sobs. “The doctor said he was gone when I brought him to the hospital. They didn’t know the cause. And I thought—I thought of you.”

Dad places the stethoscope on the boy’s chest. He checks again for another pulse on his neck.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything about it. He’s gone.”

“No, no, no.” She shakes her head. “It can’t be. Please, do something.”

Dad pats the woman on the back. “I’m really sorry.”

“He’s half-fae,” the woman blurts out in between sobs. “There must be something.” 

Dad goes still. I take a deep breath as I listen for Dad’s response. Did I hear her correctly? What does she mean “half-fae”?

Dad exhales the breath he’s been holding. “Fae or not, half-blood or not, I cannot do anything about it. I’m sorry, I can’t raise a dead.”

“But you did with your child! How can you not do it with mine?” she protests.

“I—I did not,” Dad says. 

Suddenly, the door bursts open just when I’m about to stand from where I am. Years and years of Dad telling me to not go out of the house and hide when a stranger visits makes me instinctively crouch again. 

But it’s just Theodore and Caleb. 

And Caleb is holding a baby girl I’ve never seen before in his arms. 

She looks dead too.

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