Bound to the Moon Read online

  “Marquis, mio amico, how are you? Long time no see, eh.” The sound of Dario’s Italian accent travels to my ears. The last time I heard his voice I was but a teenager, and he was there to clean up the mess my indiscretion caused. I don’t have many fond memories of him—especially after he had to arrange an orthodox way to get rid of my parents’ bodies so as to not leave any evidence of their existence.

  “Dario, my friend, it’s nice to see you again.” Marquis walks around the broken desk to embrace the newcomer. They pat their backs briefly before coming apart.

  Dario returns the hug enthusiastically. “Under better circumstances this time, I hope.” He doesn’t look at me but he doesn’t have to. I get the meaning behind his seemingly innocent remark as if he’d actually come out and accused me of being the one responsible for my parents’ death.

  I work my jaw from side to side. I don’t want to look at Dario directly, but I can’t help it. I glance up at him, already feeling the skin on my forehead creasing as my expression changes from one of indifferent to one of resentment.

  Lately, keeping my bad temper under control is costing me a great deal. Now that I have so many people reminding me of my mistakes, I doubt I’ll keep it in check long enough to not break someone’s nose.

  Instinctively, Alexis covers his nose with one hand, his eyes widening as he looks at me. I fight back the urge to smile at his reaction. More often than not, he receives the brunt of my anger. Eighty percent of the time, he deserves it. The other twenty percent, I’m taking out my anger on myself. Sometimes I hate that I see my reflection when I look at him.

  I know we’re not one in the same. As identical twins our resemblance is purely physical, but when I look at him I feel like such a disgrace. He has the life I wish I could have. Jealousy eats away at me sometimes. I want to make it go away but I can’t. I want to fix the past but I can’t. I want to save Marjorie, and my biggest fear is that I won’t be able to.

  “I wouldn’t say that exactly.” Marquis offers a hand to the wolf to Dario’s right. “Esteban. I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Marquis,” Esteban, Dario’s partner-in-crime, greets my older brother with a broad smile on his face. “How’re things going in this part of the world?”

  “Problematic,” Marquis responds, clasping Esteban’s hand tightly before letting go. “We have a serious case in our hands, boys. We need your expertise.”

  “Of course. That’s what we’re here for, no?” Dario’s gaze finally falls on me and he grins as if mocking me. “Kyran, you look well. You’ve grown tall, I see. Ah, and you seem different, eh?”

  I let go of my nearly shredded shoelace and push myself off the chair.

  “Funny, you look like the same jerk to me,” I retort.

  Dario tips his head back and lets out a bark of amused laughter that seems to concentrate low in his belly and work its way up with every shake of his thin body.

  Esteban cracks a smile, his large brown eyes twinkle with amusement. Out of the two of them, he’s the quieter one. He’s also more polite and old-fashioned. Less irritating, too.

  Dario, he’s an entirely different story. There are no words to describe his irking personality.

  “Now that’s the Kyran I remember,” he says once he’s done laughing. “You haven’t changed a bit. Maybe my imagination made me see you differently. Or perhaps I confused you with your twin.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from telling him exactly where I think he should shove his comparisons.

  “Ah, cheer up. I’m merely jesting. You two are as different as night and day. I know that,” he adds with a shrug of the shoulders.

  “Gentlemen, please sit.” Simone gestured the men forward.

  “Simone, Matron, how are you? How’s the family?”

  “They are doing great. Thank you for asking.”

  “Esteban. Dario. Please sit.” Marquis motions to the chairs Alexis and me were sitting on not too long ago, as he walks around his desk once again.

  I move to the side as Dario slips past me and onto the chair, folding his right leg so that his ankle rests on his left knee.

  “What can we do for you, mio amico?”

  “While you boys discuss business, I’ll get coffee brewing,” Simone excuses herself and walks out of the room.

  Marquis says nothing for a moment. His gaze travels from Alexis, to me, and from there to Esteban until it finally settles on Dario. He’s about to request for a very difficult task and the uncertainty is clearly visible in his eyes.

  After a moment, he begins by saying, “We need a very extensive cleanup. We need anything connected to a girl’s medical history, gone.”

  Dario leans back against the chair and rests his hands on the armrests. “A girl? What pack does she belong to?”

  “None. Well, technically she doesn’t belong to a pack. But she will. Soon.”

  A look of surprise replaces the seriousness etched on Dario’s face. “A human girl?” he asks.

  “That’s correct,” Marquis replies.

  Dario whistles as he shakes his head. “Why would you want to do such a thing? Dealing with humans, it is dangerous.”

  “I know that. But this is important. This girl...she must be saved.” Marquis lowers himself onto the black office chair behind him. “There might be evidence in her blood that we need to make sure no one else discovers. Many lives are at stake.”

  “It’s that serious, huh?”

  Marquis nods. “The girl is still at the hospital and we know her blood has been drawn at least once during her stay. Everything needs to be wiped out. You need to make it look as if she was never there to begin with. If there are old medical records at that hospital...they need to go too.”

  Esteban cracks his fingers over his right thigh. He’s silent, but I know he’s paying attention to everything that’s being said.

  “Is she linked with the police? Paranormal investigators?”

  “No. That’s not the case. Her story is remarkably unique. But the most important thing for us to do is to make sure no one else will get their hands on her medical records. That is, if they haven’t done so already.”

  “Why would werewolves want her medical records?” Esteban interrupts.

  “I’m not sure what purposes they might use them for. We’re still working on those details, but we’re certain they don’t want to use them for anything good.”

  I glance to my left where Alexis has made himself comfortable on the couch across the room from Marquis’s desk, and am instantly hit with a sense of dread. As frustrated as I am over my older brother’s behavior lately, he has a right to be concerned.

  Marjorie needs protection. Even from me.

  I walk over to Alexis and say, “Follow me out.”

  His expression is locked in one of skepticism. “Why? You’re not going to break my nose, are you?”

  I glance back, over my right shoulder at Marquis and his companions and notice they seem too invested in their conversation to have paid any attention to us.

  “Maybe later,” I reply. “I want to run something by you. In private.”

  Alexis looks like he’s expecting me to strike him at any moment. “Like what?”

  Exasperated, I turn my head abruptly to the left hoping to get rid of the knot at the back of my neck, but nothing cracks.

  “Just follow me out.” I don’t wait for a response and walk out of the room. Wanting to put as many walls between the rest of the family and us, I stroll behind the main staircase to a door located just slightly to its right and open it. I continue down the barely illuminated, narrow hallway I’m so familiar with until I reach the door opposite of the one I came in.

  I turn the knob and the door opens without a sound. It makes way to a set of concrete stairwell, which in turn leads to another door right at the bottom. I follow through and I’m soon standing inside my personal jail. The cellar. Behind the massive door at the bottom of the concrete stairs is my private dungeon. It is fully equipped with the n
ecessary tools to keep me locked up whenever my ‘episodes’ get the best of me.

  As much as I hate the reinforced cage, in which the house was constructed over and around, it was built specifically so I couldn’t escape. Or so my siblings had thought. During the Santos incident, I managed to break through not only the cage itself, but the ten foot tall, wooden door behind me.

  Both the cage and door had been updated with a few tweaks here and there to make it even more of a difficult contender. I only hope it works. If things go according to plan, Marjorie will come to stay with us for a few days, and if I have a relapse while she’s at the house, there’s no saying what will happen.

  “What is it?” Alexis steps into the room and pushes the huge, mahogany door shut. “Why’d you bring me all the way down here for?”

  “I need to tell you something important.” I amble closer to the steel pillars embedded to the floor and ceiling—which make up the walls of my prison and are witness to my physical suffering during my weakest moments—and lay my hands on them. “This is important so pay attention.”

  “I’m listening.” There’s concern in his voice. I don’t take the time to talk to him unless there’s something significant I need to run by him so he knows I mean business. The last time I ran any subject of importance by him was six years ago—right before our parents’ died.

  “Things are bound to get worse from now on. A war is rising in the horizon and we’re the main targets. Regardless of what happens to us, the alpha and his pack will stop at nothing to get to Marjorie. We need to make sure she makes it. We promised.”

  Alexis nods but doesn’t comment.

  “With all this to take into consideration, I want to ask a favor of you.”

  “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I face Alexis, shoving my hands into my pockets as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I may not be able to give Marjorie the protection she needs. If things go from bad to worse, I want you to promise me you’ll take off with her.”

  Alexis opens his mouth to protest but I interrupt him.

  “I need you to do this, Alexis,” I insist, leaving no room for him to object. “I can’t run away and take her with me and the only person she’ll be more comfortable with, aside from me, is you. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it in my gut. I don’t want her to suffer and I can’t be there for her. Not all of me at least. You’re the next best thing.”

  “She won’t put up with it. You know that,” he glumly disputes. “She won’t go anywhere with me. Or without you for that matter.”

  “Then you’ll just have to use force,” I say, louder than I had intended. “Look, she needs to be safe. We promised we’d keep her safe no matter what. It was our mission from the beginning and nothing has changed.”

  When we took on the task of coming to Wolf Creek Hollow in search of the Lost Child, it never occurred that my brother and I would bond with her. Even so, as much as this petition is costing me, my priority is still the same. Saving Marjorie will redeem some of the damage I’ve caused to my family.

  “But what about the possibility of there being a cu—”

  “That no longer matters to me.” I look away, unable to look at my twin directly. “I don’t have to explain to you how I feel about her. You can feel it. You can see into my head. You know better than anyone else how much I love her.”

  Alexis’ eyes widen in surprise. It’s the first time he’s heard me say the actual words aloud.

  “I know.”

  And I know how much he loves her too. It’s no secret. Not to me at least. I know because I can feel it too. No matter how much I try to block it out, it’s something I can’t completely get rid of or dismiss.

  He tries to hide it from me. He tries to make it seem like it doesn’t affect him when Marjorie and I share some time alone together, but he doesn’t always succeed. His feelings are not something he can avoid either. He’s bonded with Marjorie even though she hasn’t with him.

  “We need to put things in perspective and set aside our...sibling rivalry—if we can call it that—and work as a team to ensure her safety.” I take a moment to glance to my left, at the massive cage-like room where I detox from the effects bloodlust has on my body, and conclude that I’ve made the right decision.

  If I can’t pull my weight, there’s no one better than Alexis to fill in for me.

  “It’s not like that, Kyran. I can’t help—”

  “I get it. I do. I don’t like it, but I understand.” I sound like I’m babbling. Truth is I’m a little nervous. Uncomfortable. When it comes to sharing any kind of emotions with anyone, I’m not good at it. I tend to live in my own world. However, I really don’t have a choice. Either I’m honest about everything or Alexis won’t buy into anything I’ve just said.

  I need him to be my replacement.

  “Promise me, Alexis.” I keep my gaze locked on him. He’s tense, stiff. His eyes show uncertainty. “If it’s not me, it has to be you.”

  “You really think we won’t be able to pull through this one?”

  “The way things look...we might have to bail rather than fight this time and if it comes to that Marjorie needs to be taken somewhere safe.”

  “Why don’t you run this through Marjorie first?”

  I shake my head. “Marjorie won’t agree and we can’t stop to decide at the very last second. We need to act fast. Therefore, we must have a plan up front.”

  “What about Marquis?”

  “He’ll agree. You know how he is. He won’t like it but he’ll agree.”

  Alexis dips his head briefly. “I can’t promise you she won’t come back to look for you.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t,” I say determinedly. “I may not be here when she comes back.”

  Neither of us has said it before now, but in a battle there’s always a chance one or more won’t live to see another day. If I stay behind to fight, and send Alexis and Marjorie off, the chances of me meeting my end are high.

  “Why do I feel like you’ve already accepted defeat?” Alexis closes his eyes, he’s concentrated on trying to read my thoughts, but I put up a wall around my mind and turn my back to him.

  Unable to scan my thoughts, he sighs and shuffles his feet in frustration.

  “Promise me, Alexis.”

  He doesn’t answer right away. Silence fills the room. Neither of us gives in. He’s hesitant to agree to anything and I won’t let up.

  We both have a purpose. We both have a destiny. Mine may not be as glamorous as Alexis’ promises to be, but I will fulfill my destiny no matter what happens. If I can’t protect Marjorie one way, I will another.

  “All right. I promise,” Alexis says at last.

  My heart fills with relief. Marjorie will be protected and that’s all I care about. However, dread threatens to push itself through. If I’m not present—if I don’t exist, the probabilities of Marjorie bonding with Alexis are practically secured.

  I know how I feel about that, but I don’t know how I should feel. One way or another, I’m going to lose her. It hurts to realize it. But if it means that she will be safe and alive then I will gladly relent and step aside.

  The sooner I accept that fact the easier it will be on the both of us.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexis marches back upstairs, leaving me completely alone with my troubled thoughts. I pace the length of the cellar, my mind a jumbled mess of insecurities and concerns. Even though I asked my brother to be there for Marjorie in the event that I cannot, I’m not at all satisfied with the circumstances.

  How can I be? I found happiness. Yet uncertainty looms over our heads. A battle. A war. An hour, a day, a week away. Not knowing when the alpha aims to strike fills me with horror. Time is literally wasting away while my siblings and I fail to find the alpha, his hideout, or a way out without costing so many lives.

  The only thing I can think of is Bray’s advice. His recommendation to grab Marjorie and disappear with her. I would gl
adly take his word. The problem is I’m as big of a threat as the alpha is. Maybe even worse since Marjorie trusts me.

  I shove my hands into my pockets once again and the feel of a crumpled up piece of paper catches my attention. I remove it and recall it being the one Bray offered me. I forgot to show it to Marquis, didn’t even think to mention it when I handed over the card.

  I open up the piece of tattered, obviously worn out paper and quickly note its age. I’m not exactly sure as to how old exactly but it probably has been around for longer than I’ve been alive. I saunter over to the cot in one corner of the room where Gage usually sleeps when he’s guarding me during my relapses and smooth out the paper on top.

  The title reads: Notes and Facts about The Lost Child.

  There appears to be a few smudges of...smoke, maybe, on portions of the upper right corner of the paper but other than that, it is relatively good condition considering how old it looks. I scan over its contents briefly and note it’s handwritten, but lacks the name of an author. The text is small, as if meant to fit as much information possible on one page.

  I start to read, concentrating on making out the sloppy cursive handwriting.

  The Legend of the Lost Child has puzzled historians and scholars for hundreds of years. The ValKhazar bloodline is prolifically known for being abnormally resilient and adaptable to its hosts and environment. Its ever-changing capabilities are impressive and unbeatable among the Lycan society and of any other creature known to this day.

  The cause for such a dramatic progress is relatively unknown. Many theories have risen but they all lack the basic scientific proof that would ultimately dismiss or serve as confirmation as to how this unique DNA works and how it adjusts to the world in which it lives in.

  One theory is that their genetic profile differs from normal Lycans and therefore their genetic code may be entirely superior to that commonly found on members of the same species. How it changed or why cannot be explained at this point in time, but my personal belief is that the difference may rest on the original source—perhaps, the founding father—the first Lycan to have ever set foot on the face of the earth.