Legends are myths, fables, stories passed down for years and years, from one generation to the next. They are not real, they do not walk and talk, and they certainly do not stalk an ordinary twenty-five year old like Rayne Slade.
...or so she though...
The tiny girl sat on his lap, her auburn curls hanging wildly around her face and bright green eyes staring in wonder at the book in his large hands. They'd read it at least a thousand times before, but she never tired of the story about the wooden horse and the soldiers hiding inside.
She smiled up at him, her pale face showing the true state of her health as a rattling cough shook her entire body. His arms tightened around her frail frame and held her close, his cheek resting atop the five-year-old's head in solace. Martin wished with every cell of his being that he could take away her pain.
"Grandpa?" she asked, her small voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled back at her, trying to hide his concern. It was unclear if she truly understood the magnitude of her illness: that very soon, she would be no more. Her sickness, Leukemia, was too far advanced; doctors across the state had declared hers a hopeless case. Even if she could survive the harsh treatments, there was an eighty-five percent chance that it would return or have no effect at all.
Martin Slade refused to accept that. He would not, could not, watch his precious granddaughter waste away to nothing. He glanced across the small study, lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves, to the large, wooden desk near the window. He knew that his only glimmer of hope rested in the top drawer, a single vial of crimson liquid that either could be her saving grace or make him an accomplice to unintentional murder.
"Martin, the first trials were a huge success. I know it will save lives" the man in the white lab coat said, cradling the canister in his hands. "They denied us human trials, but I'm telling you, I know it will work. I've seen it."
Martin hesitated, his eyes flicking between the vial and his friends earnest face. Harry Schultz had been a friend for nearly ten years, at least since he'd accepted the position as the lead accountant for Legacy Pharmaceuticals. He knew what the scientist was capable of and had every faith that the man was telling the truth.
"A ninety-seven percent success rate, Martin! That's unheard of!" A smile broke out across Harry's face. "It hasn't been tested on a human body, but it's cured over two hundred subjects of hemophilia, anemia, leukemia, and myeloma. All cured!"
There was a silence between the two as he paused for a moment and stared at the blood-red liquid in the container between his fingers. "If you don't try, she's going to die anyway," he continued quietly without looking up at him.
Martin ran both of his hands through his graying hair and paced the short width of the dark hallway. He didn't know what to do. It was a situation where he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. He stopped and inhaled deeply. He had to try. Without it, he inevitably would lose her, and he knew that he could never live the rest of his life wondering, "What if?"
He held out his hand but couldn't bring himself to meet Harry's gaze as he took the formula. Every logical cell in his brain was screaming at him not to, but his heart was twice as loud. He would not lose his only granddaughter when the very cure could be so close.
He smiled down at the precious child in his lap and couldn't bear to see her suffer any longer.
She began to wretch as another series of coughs tore from her small body.
He stood and placed her in the chair, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. With quick strides, he crossed the room and jerked open the drawer of the desk. Wrapping his fingers around the syringe, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"If you don't try, she's going to die anyway." The words rang through his mind, and he knew that he didn't have a choice. His eyes darted to the bend of his left elbow, where the small bruise left behind from the very same injection already had faded. As far as he could tell, there were no ill effects on a healthy human. He could only pray that it would be the same for her.
Crossing back to her, he looked down at the sickly five-year-old. With eyes closed, she rested her head against the chair, each breath shallower than the last. She smiled up at him as he knelt beside her and placed his hand on hers. "Hold still, Rayne, this is only going to sting a little," he said gently.
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A/N: I hope you guys liked the intro! Please let me know what you think! This book is actually already finished, but I'm going to post a few chapters at a time, depending on how many comments I can get.
So leave a comment on every chapter even if it's just a thumbs up! Let me know what you guys think about the characters... what do you think is going on... What's going to happen next... anything! I want to hear it all!
