Chapter 2
TWO
“Five, four, three, two, one! Rosalia, my darling, where are you?” Mama’s song-filled voice travelled through the air.
With a soft click, the bedroom door swung open. I nestled farther under the protective cocoon of my bedsheets and covered my mouth, muffling the giggles bubbling within me.
Mama reached under the sheets to tickle me.
The scent of earth and plants clung to her fingers; she’d been out all day in the garden.
I couldn’t stop my laughter from escaping as her nimble fingers danced along my sides.
I rolled over, getting tangled in the sheets, my amusement turning to mild frustration as I struggled to free myself.
Mama chuckled alongside me, her voice warm with affection.
“Rosalia, my little mischief-maker,” she teased. “You have become a bedsheet butterfly!”
With a final burst of effort, I managed to break free from the sheets, and I sat up, beaming at her. Her eyes twinkled with love as she gazed at me.
“Got you!” I declared triumphantly, reaching out to give her a playful hug.
Mama’s hands, now free from their tickling mission, enveloped me in a warm embrace.
“You always do,” she replied, kissing the top of my head.
She brushed away the tousled hair from my face.
Mama was beautiful, with long dark hair cascading down her back and deep-green eyes that held endless love.
I stared at her, hoping one day, I would be as lovely as she was.
“Mama?” I asked her, my voice soft as I carefully framed my next question.
“Yes, my little rosebud?”
“When is Papa coming home?”
Her expression shifted, her smile faltering as worry flickered in her eyes.
“Do not ask that, Rosalia,” Mama snapped.
It was rare for her to get upset with me, and I felt a pang of guilt for asking.
“You know he is working, and he will return when the job is complete—as he always does.” She let go of me and fluffed the pillow above my head. “Now, off to sleep.”
The ache of missing Papa weighed on my heart.
He had been away for a fortnight, and I longed for his return.
He worked with a group of Slayers to protect our town of Elmcross.
He used to tell me stories about his trips whenever Mama wasn’t around, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate him telling seven-year-old me the scary tales.
He hunted creatures of the night. Blood Hunters, we called them.
Blood Hunters were once humans, Papa had explained, transformed into monsters who prowled the night, draining their victims dry of blood.
I was very proud that my Papa defended us and kept everyone in Elmcross safe, but I worried about him when he was away.
Some nights, I would lie awake in bed, certain I could hear strange noises, distant cries, and scratching through my window.
Each time I asked Mama about it, she would simply tell me to go to bed and not to worry.
She tucked me in, and I saw her anxiety over Papa’s prolonged absence in the creases forming at the corners of her eyes, and the worry lines etched between her brows. I longed to comfort her, but I found myself at a loss for how to do so.
“I apologize, Mama,” I said quietly, blinking back tears.
“No, my sweet Rosebud,” she murmured, her tone softening as she wiped a falling tear from my cheek. “I should apologize. Your papa has been away longer than usual, and I cannot help but feel anxious. But you must not worry.”
Mama reached around her neck and unclasped a delicate silver necklace with a teardrop-shaped red garnet and a rose encased by two leaves.
“Your papa gave me this before you were born, the first time he left for his work. He said it would protect me. Wear it until he returns, so you may remember you are never alone.”
I held it up to the candlelight. Its deep red hue sparkled in the flickering glow, and I clutched it tightly, gazing at Mama with newfound determination. “I shall take good care of it,” I promised.
She kissed my forehead, her love a reassuring presence, and whispered, “I know you will, my darling. Now, rest. It has been a long and tiring day.”
She blew out the candle, leaving me in the grip of darkness.
I clutched the pendant, feeling its weight in my hands. The moonlight shone through my windows as I whispered a prayer to the moon, asking for Papa’s safe return and for Mama’s worries to ease. I closed my eyes tight, but the tears slipped through as I drifted off to sleep.