by T. S. Joyce
“To turn into monsters. Me and my brothers are monsters, too. They called it training. They were training us to only turn when we wanted to.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“The top bunk was mine.”
She backed up a few steps, and that’s when she noticed it. The deep grooves of claw marks covering the walls of his tiny bed-space. There were marks on the inside of the door as well, and she wanted to retch when she noticed the latch for a lock.
“You…you were trapped in here?”
“It ain’t trapped if you don’t know any other way. And I don’t get that feeling anymore. Now I sleep with my windows open. Sometimes the door, too.”
Tears burned her eyes, but Moore was so matter-of-fact about the horrors here, like he’d dealt with them long ago.
“What do you mean, you and your brothers are monsters?” she asked.
“I’ll show you, but not right now. Right now I’m looking for something.”
“Something you forgot?” she asked.
“Something my parents might have left behind.”
“I can help look. What is it?”
Moore shook his head and looked around. “I’m not sure. I haven’t been back here since we left.”
“Lots of memories here?”
Moore nodded.
She didn’t have to ask ‘bad or good memories’. The look on his face was answer enough. He helped her toward the bedroom door, which was shut. He opened it and a huge bird flew out. It was a crow with black and white feathers, and it cawed loudly as he flew over their heads. She ducked and screeched, but Moore didn’t even flinch. He just ignored the thing and pushed the door open wider.
Aurora’s heart was pounding right up out of her throat! “That crow didn’t scare you?”
“Nah. I knew he was here.”
“Oh. Cool, so you can see through doors now. That’s magical.”
“Crows have a certain smell,” he murmured. All emotion had left his tone, like he was riding on autopilot now. “Whatever he wants me to find will be in here.”
“He who?” she asked, confused.
“The crow.”
“Okay cool, we are on a quest from a crow.” She felt very far away from her design meeting this morning where she’d been picking out patterns for curtains and carpet colors with a client.
The roof was caving in here, and a big slab of shingle-covered roofing material had fallen onto the old wrought iron bed frame. An animal had made a nest out of the mattress, and it was shredded. Every inch of the scuffed wood floors was covered in roof debris, old wads of clothes, storage boxes that had been ripped open, and drawers from the dressers.
“Someone went through this room,” she murmured, brushing her finger across the dusty edge of the emptied dresser.
Moore sniffed the air. “Recently, too.”
“What would they be looking for?” she asked.
Moore pulled a maroon and gold dust-covered box from the end table. “He was looking for this.”
“He, the crow?”
“His name is Krome.”
Aurora shook her head. “Enough.”
“What?” he asked, turning around to face her.
“Enough riddles. I don’t understand any of this. I have overthought every single word that Trinity told me yesterday, and the more you reveal, the more I don’t understand. What is happening?” She looked around the room and back at him. “What is this place, Moore?”
“It’s where I was built into…”
“Into what?”
He curled his lips back and exposed those long canines for a moment before he sat on the bed and looked away. “I’m not like you.”
“Chhh, duh. I’m an original. No one can be this genuinely interesting, hilarious, and—”
“No, I mean I’m not human like you.”
Outside, a chorus of caws sounded, and the fine hairs on her body lifted.
“I made an oath never to tell anyone what I am. Never to bond to anyone. To let my line end. My brothers and I made a promise the day my parents died—”
“From a bear attack.”
A snarl rattled his throat and his eyes lightened. They lightened and it wasn’t a trick of some fluorescent lights. There was nothing but the natural light streaming in through the broken windows and caved-in roof.
He shook his head hard and dropped his attention to the box he pulled into his lap. He removed the lid and stared at something inside.
“What is it?” she asked, inching forward.
He pulled out three journals and a small stack of folded papers, unfolded one of the sheets and studied it silently.
“Is it a treasure map? I’ve watched lots of treasure hunter documentaries.”
Moore handed it over to her. “It’s my lineage.”
There were dozens and dozens of names scrawled in tiny print over the large, tattered paper. At the bottom was his name—Moore Dunnan Bane, and those of his brothers. Next to Moore’s name was the number two in parentheses. Above the Bane brothers were Cyrus and Ellsie Bane, with numbers next to their names. Thirty-seven next to Cyrus. Seven next to Ellsie. Above them it split off into two sets of parents. They had numbers beside each of their names too. Twelve. Fourteen. Twenty-one. Ten. Above them were their parents, all with numbers in parenthesis next to their last names. And on and on it spread up the paper in a family tree.
“What are the numbers?” she asked.
“You said friends keep secrets.”
“What do the numbers mean, Moore?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“How many people they killed.”
With a gasp, Aurora dropped the paper and backed away. Back, back until she tripped over some rubble and stumbled against the wall. “There’s a number by your name. There is a two.”
“I’m the bear,” he said, his voice too growly. How had she ever mistaken that gritty voice for a man’s? He wasn’t. He was an animal. Look at his blazing silver eyes. Look at his too-sharp teeth. Look at his size, and listen to the sound rumbling from his throat.
“No. No, no, no. No.” She shook her head and sagged against the wall, her mind racing. “Your parents. You were the bear who killed your parents? Moore!” She dragged her horrified gaze to him, but he sat there somberly on the bed. “Did you kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she whispered in horror.
“Because of the number next to their names.” And there it was—the first glimmer of emotion he’d shown since he walked in here. There was moisture rimming his eyes, and he lifted his chin higher, blinked hard. “My people don’t get better when they lose control of their animals. They only get worse.”
“Will you hurt me? Is that why you brought me here? Is that why you’re telling me this?”
Confusion flashed through his bright eyes. “What? No. I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. I wanted to…to…”
“To what?”
“Let you in. Let anyone in.” His eyes, his eyes, the raw emotion in his eyes. But he was a killer. Killer. He was a killer.
“Do Aux and Brick know what you did?”
“Of course. They were there. It was a planned thing.”
“Pre-meditated?”
“No. Planned by my parents. I was just the weapon they chose to end their bloodlust.” Moore leaned over and plucked the lineage chart off the pile of debris. “I’ve never seen this before, Aurora. Who do you think wrote this number next to my name?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a magical fairy did it, Moore. I mean, it’s not that far-fetched. Apparently you’re what? A magical bear with electric skin? You’re like a giant red flag. Just a million of them smushed into a giant red flag, and what did I do? I pointed at you and thought, ‘that one’. I thought ‘red is my favorite color for a flag’. Holy geez! Moore, I read werewolf books. Are you like a werewolf?”
“I’m not a wolf.”
“You’re a bear. Yup.” She blasted her fists on her hips and nodded up to the heav
ens. “Lol, God. Funny prank. I pray for a dozen meaningful things, but the only one you answer is my stupid drunken prayer that werewolves become real, so I can be the heroine in some star-crossed lover paranormal romance and here it is. Here is my romance. I’m falling for a murder-bear instead of a nice sexy in-control werewolf.” She unzipped her jacket and gripped her sweater over her pounding heart. “I think I’m having a heart attack. My heart is beating so fast.”
“I can hear it.”
“Oh! Murder-bear can hear it because he’s a murder-bear.”
“I really wish you would call me anything other than that.”
“Did you eat them?”
Moore pulled a disgusted look. “My parents?”
“That’s what bears do, right? They eat people.”
“No, I buried them in the backyard.”
“Like a fucking dead pet hamster?”
“The pitch of your voice is getting very high.”
“I’m gonna go. I’m gonna go! You have an amazing trip down memory lane. Don’t forget to put flowers on your fucking parents’ shallow backyard grave before you lock up.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m walking home!”
“Your home is fifty miles away.” He stood and followed her out. “I’ve never told anyone any of this. I haven’t even talked about it with my brothers. You said you were okay with my secrets.”
“I thought your secret was you had a foot fetish, or liked to hunt mooses on the weekends, or you were a secret Chapstick collector, or something normal!”
“None of that is normal and the plural for moose is still just moose,” he muttered, following her out.
She tripped four dozen times before she reached the front door. At least that’s what it felt like. He even had to catch her arm once, but she shrugged him off.
“I didn’t think your secret was that there are human remains in your backyard.”
“They aren’t human remains.”
“What?” she demanded, turning on him on the front porch.
“If you dug them up, it’s just bear bones. They died with a little honor.”
“With honor.”
“Yes, Aurora,” he snapped. “With honor. They died fighting. I just won the fucking fight, and that’s exactly what they’d trained me to do. They killed an innocent man!” His voice echoed across the mountains.
“W-what?”
“Fuck.” Moore squatted down on the porch and set the box between his knees, gripped his hair in the back. His shoulders were shaking. “I don’t think about this stuff. I don’t want to think about it. It just sits there poisoning me. I don’t…I don’t…”
He sounded tortured. It broke her to see him break.
Slowly she lowered down in front of him. “You’re already in it, Moore. Just say it.”
“So you can hate me? I see the way you look at me now.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Moore looked up at her, and his heart was in his eyes. “There was a hiker, and they hunted him and they killed him for no reason. Just because they couldn’t stop their animals. I hated them. My brothers did, too. I don’t remember a time when they were good. Not to my brothers and not to anyone else. All I remember is rage. They took me and my brothers into the woods, and they let us find the body, and I remember there were crows in the trees. So many of them. My parents changed into their animals, and they charged us. I thought they were defending a kill. I thought they would hurt Aux and Brick. I was different than them. I didn’t care if I got hurt, but they couldn’t be hurt. Do you understand?”
“You were protective.”
Moore nodded. His eyes were so bright silver right now, they were nearly white. “I changed too, and we fought. Everything went black when my bear came out. All I felt was fury. They were hurting people. They would hurt us, too. I don’t know how long we fought. I just remember changing back and I was hurt and I was lying there staring up at the stars in the sky wishing I would die because the woods were too quiet. No one was breathing except for me and the crows, and my brothers who had changed into their bears and were pacing the tree line near our parents.”
“They didn’t help you?”
“They didn’t need to. Power comes from two places for my people. One, from killing.”
“And the second?”
“A bond with a mate.”
Whaaaaat? Twenty things clicked into place in an instant. “Was that what I was supposed to be?” she asked, anger boiling steadily through her veins.
“Yes.”
She huffed air out of her cheeks and sat back onto her butt on the porch. She draped her arms over her bent knees, and the tears that had built up as she’d watched the heartbreak in his eyes fell in twin streams down her cheeks. She nodded slowly, unable to process her feelings.
She’d liked him, but she was just some piece in a supernatural puzzle she hadn’t known existed. And she was tired. She was tired of it never being her turn to be special.
“Bad boys use good girls,” she whispered thickly.
“I can’t use you,” Moore said. He scooted closer and pulled her by the ankles to him. “You aren’t meant for me. See?” he touched her cheek, and the faint spark of electricity made her flinch. “It’s not supposed to hurt to touch a mate.”
She tried to smile. She always did that in serious moments. It was how she coped. “Sorry about your bad luck. I’m sure you’ll find her someday.”
“Don’t want her,” he said in that gravelly voice of his.
“What do you mean?”
“I have a war coming for me. The crows made me and my brothers make a pact that night. They would keep the secrets that had happened in those woods, if we made a blood oath to end our line. We’re the last ones left. There were hundreds of us before, but we got killed off. Probably best. It’s hard to stay good when you have a predator in your head. My brothers broke their oaths and chose mates. I was charged with protecting the oath. I’m supposed to kill my brothers.”
“Because the crows say so?” she asked.
“Yes. And because in my fucked-up head, I thought it was the right thing to do. Because I will be damned if I watch my brothers feed on those power bonds and turn into our parents. I won’t watch them murder. I won’t let that be their legacy.”
“So you’ll make it yours?”
Moore shook his head and shrugged up one shoulder. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like me and my brothers have been moved into place for some chess game that fate is playing, and I can’t figure out where we’ll end up.”
“Fuck those crows, Moore. Stay protective of your brothers. Trinity? She’s good. I can tell this about people. She isn’t Ellsie Bane. Maybe she can keep Brick steady. Maybe Aux’s mate can do the same for him.”
“You don’t understand.” Moore swallowed hard. “We could destroy the story of the entire world.”
“Or,” she whispered, gripping onto his jacket sleeves. “You could write a new story. Are Aux and Brick evil?”
Moore shook his head. “They’re softer than me. Better.”
“Are you evil?”
He looked off into the woods and didn’t answer.
“I’ll answer that for you. You’re not. I’ve seen good in you. If what you say is true, all of the other bears with those awful numbers by their names are dead and gone. All that remains is you, with the number two, because you were forced into it, and Aux and Brick with zero. Keep your number at two. And if you can’t bond with me? Good. You don’t need power like that bloating you into something you don’t even want to be. Stay you. Stay Moore.” She gave him a cheesy smile. “All you have to do is stop murdering people and keep hanging out with me. I’m good at two things—being awkward, and treading water in the friend-zone. Stick with me, Murder Bear. I’ll keep that bond far away from you.”
He chuckled. Chuckled! And he was smiling. His eyes looked tired, but he was smiling.
“Okay
, I know this isn’t very friendish of me, but you have a very sexy laugh. Respectfully.”
He grew serious again though and the smile faded from his lips. “Are you okay?”
Aurora looked around dramatically and pointed to her chest. “Me? Oh, I’m always okay. I mean, I still have four thousand questions for you on the way home, and probably more over the span of the next several weeks. Like about the pact and the photograph of your dad with all the crows. And about the crows!” she pointed to the trees where the assholes were still roosted just staring at them like creepy little creepertons. “And I’ll probably have nightmares for a while because this house and these woods are effing creepy. Plus, I’ll be imagining your bear, and I have a very big imagination and it’ll probably be way worse than he actually is. Do you have blood-stained teeth when you are a bear? Do your eyes turn red? Can you say human words in a growly bear voice?”
“Do you want to see him?” he asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“One, will you eat me, b, will you traumatize me and chase me through the woods, and three, will you have to remove your clothing before you change into a bear? The last one is the most important question, but you can answer them in any order you wish.”
He was trying to hide his grin. Moore cleared his throat. “One, if my touch didn’t hurt you, I would eat you.” But the devilish way his eyes danced said he was talking dirty. “B, I will do my best not to traumatize you more than I already have today. And three…” He unzipped his jacket, and gave her a crooked smile that made her heart do little flipflops in her chest.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to show me that bear. I have to warn you though, I’ve read a bunch of werewolf books, so you better make this metamorphosis good.”
“It’s called a change,” he said as he stood.
“Mmm mm, this is a strip show, go slower,” she joked.
He let off a single laugh.
“This is normal,” she called, leaning back on her locked arms as he moseyed on down the porch steps, careful to avoid the broken one. “Friends strip for their friends all the time.”
“I feel like you just make up the friend rules as we go.”
“Oh no, there’s books that list the rules. You can find it at a library. How to Be Besties with a Werebear, Volume One.”