Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, close this book right now. Just try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. It's deadly. It gets the people close to you killed. All things normal people try to avoid. Unfortunately, I'm not normal. None of us are.

If you are a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. I hope my life's entertaining enough for you.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know, it's only a matter of time before they know it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Celeste Castellan.

I'm fourteen years old.

Until a few months ago, I was living in a foster home in New York City.

I had ended up there from Connecticut, after running away because of the accident.

Everything that came with that—the social workers and foster parents—it's enough to change anyone.

How did I change?

Well, it's easier to show you. I could start at any point after it happened to prove it, but let's go with that cold January day. My last day of normality. Well, semi-normality.

"Wake up. You're gonna be late for school."

It was less the voice that woke me up, and more the smell of donuts. But alas, even donuts can't wake me up quickly.

"Steph will kill you if you're tardy again."

That woke me up. Stephanie Moen. My evil stepsister. Only she doesn't come with ballgowns and glass slippers.

My eyes opened to a boy standing over me.

Gavin Moen. Technically he was my brother, but I never liked technicalities. None of the Moen's were really my family, so I never said they were. Even the few who were nice to me.

"Five more minutes," I groaned.

"Five more minutes and you would have been mugged."

"Nah," I said, kicking off my sleeping bag. "Old Joe would have protected me." I pointed to the homeless man sleeping a few feet away.

That tended to happen when you sleep under a bridge in New York, so I had gotten used to it by now.

"Why do you sleep out here anyways?"

I shrugged, pulling a wad of cash out of my jacket. "I just don't want anything they give me."

"Except their money apparently," he noted as I threw the dollars toward the man.

"Hey, they should know by now not to trust me with money. Or donuts." I snatched the pastry from his hands and buried my face in its heavenly taste.

He gasped, clutching a hand to his chest. "You wound me."

That earned a smile, which was more than he usually got in the mornings. Or anytime, really. "Come on, Shakespeare. Or else you're gonna be late for school."

Stephanie was waiting for us with her arms crossed outside the brownstone mansion that was our house. Really it was a rich couple's house, who got bored and decided to adopt a bunch of kids as a vanity project. Great idea. Especially since they were gone all the time.

As we came into view, Stephanie asked, "Rob any banks while you were out?"

"Ha, ha," I said, pushing past her to get to the door.

She moved to block my path. "Go in the back door. Wash your hands before you touch anything. And try to look presentable. There are children in there."

"I'm a child!" At Gavin's snickers, I added, "Legally."

"Most children don't have a criminal record."

"This one does!" I called as I moved toward the gate, hoping to get the last word.

"Maybe if you didn't, people would like you more!"

I couldn't think of a response, instead slamming the gate behind me and throwing up the finger once I was out of her line of sight.

Normally I could deal with girls like her. There were lots of them at my old school, and they never got the best of me. I could always bear them. After I talked to my mom.

I grumbled insults about Stephanie as I walked in the back door and washed my hands, ignoring her comment about looking presentable. I grabbed a bagel from the counter, along with my school bag, and stomped out the door.

"Can't eat anything without a hole in it?" I heard Gavin joke from behind me.

I was too angry for jokes after interacting with Stephanie. "Fuck off."

"Fine, fine." He put his hands up in mock surrender.

I walked even faster to the corner where we separated, him turning towards the high school, and I walked toward the junior high.

"Goodbye, Grumpypants!" he called, knowing I couldn't yell anything back without someone hearing. So, I did the mature thing. I stuck out my tongue.

I shoved the last of my bagel in my mouth and began mentally preparing for another day in hell. Or school. Whatever you want to call it.

I turned the corner and walked right into a wall of fur. I stepped back, and the sight that met me brought me right back to the accident.

I could hear the screams, smell the blood, see their lifeless bodies on the floor, the flashing of sirens arriving way too late. It was a fire, I thought, bringing myself back to reality. Just a fire. I had to focus on the present.

A dog the size of a semi-truck was drooling over a woman pushing a stroller.

Instinct drew my hand to my neck, reaching for the charm on the necklace from my father. My fingers closed around it and pulled it down. Instead of snapping off my neck like it should've, there was a bright flash of light, and I was holding a golden sword.

"What?" I shrieked, dropping the golden weapon. The noise drew the dog's attention, and it turned its head towards me, snarling.

It lunged for me, so I grabbed the weapon from the ground, and swung it wildly. It arced through the air, and the second it met the creature's neck, yellow dust rained down around me.

I stood there panting until the sirens snapped me out of my adrenaline rush.

"Get her knife!"

I looked down to see I was still holding the sword. How could they think it was a knife?

I raised my hands as the cop rushed toward me. "I wasn't—" I realized I was still holding the blade. It clattered to the ground as he pushed me against the wall, cuffing my hands behind my back. "You don't understand I—"

The officer cut me off, "Get in the car." It wasn't like I had much of a choice. He threw me in the back seat and slammed the door before climbing into the front.

I stared out the window as the car began to move, wondering just what I had gotten myself into.