The ranch style home sat dark and empty at the top of the short hill, near the end of the street behind the iron gates. The little red sold sign in bold letters, lazily plastered onto the for-sale post. It had been built back in the fifties and was the oldest home in the community. Perched at the top of the hill, backed up to a green belt, it had the most private lot out of all the houses on the street. Their only neighbor, a tall cookie cutter two story, just off to the side. The rest of the community was cluttered together on a more level street, curling around the hill, instead of climbing it.

The community was mostly older couples who had bought in when the development was new and just decided to stay. According to the community leader, Mrs. Cordon, their soon-to-be neighbor was the youngest resident behind the gate. Not that that was saying much since he was still as old as their parents. Some boring quiet dude who mostly kept to himself and was generally polite at all the meetings. He was just consumed by his work. Not that they had met him yet and they were pretty sure Mrs. Cordon thought everyone was sweet.

"Well, there it is. Home sweet, deserted home. It feels weird moving into a gated community like this one." Ciara mumbled tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. Her twin brother sat in the passenger seat beside her, combing over the property from their vantage point.

"It's odd. I wonder why mom and dad decided to move here of all places. And so suddenly." Jaci grumbled back watching his sister shrug out of the corner of his eye. They might have been born at the same time and shared similar interests and hobbies; however, they looked nothing like each other. She was on the smaller side, with a short spiky pixie cut, dyed a flamboyant pink. She was super smart and like using her looks to her advantage against those who misjudged her. Jaci on the other hand, was tall and broad, preferring brawn over brain. Things just didn't click for him the way they clicked for her.

"We get the keys in the morning. Perhaps we can ask them over dinner. You have the address?" Ciara asked sitting back into her seat and turning the car back on. It purred to life, grumbling as it was put in reverse.

"I can look it up." Jaci mumbled softly. Tomorrow would be the start of a new day in a new house. Luckily, the move wasn't across country. Just about twenty minutes across town. Their parents had made the move easier by getting Ciara a car to drive them to their old school, so they wouldn't have to leave their friends. It would have sucked transferring two months into their senior year. Jaci, placed his phone in the cup holder, letting it tell his sister where to go as they left the iron gate behind them. They would be back soon enough.

* * * *

Christian sat quietly on his bed, listening to the sounds of the house. His father was still home which was unusual for a Friday. He carefully peeled back the blanket, before undoing the wires attached to his arm. He had been born sick and weak, killing his mother in childbirth. And unfortunately, remained that way his whole life. Unable to get out and see the world, his father brought him back reading material to help curb his boredom. Though it only helped a little, it didn't curb the looming silence his loneliness brought.

He carefully slid out of bed, moving the machine out of the way. He had a personal doctor who often stopped by to check on him. According to Dr. Albert, if whatever was wrong didn't kill him before he turned twenty, then he would probably live. And by that he meant Christen could venture out of this suffocating box of a house. Not that he would be magically cured.

Christian pulled the door open slowly, glancing around the house. His bedroom was on the second story, facing the back of the house. From his window he could watch the animals in the green belt and glance into the abandon houses back yard.

His house had four bedrooms, a guest room for Dr. Albert when he needed to stay the night at the top of the stairs. His room beside it, then the large bathroom. Around the corner of the banister, looking down over the foyer, sat the third bedroom, converted into an office that overlooked the abandoned house completely. Beside the study at the end of the hall was his fathers' room.

Normally, Christian would sneak into the study and gaze out the window, watching the world go by without him. Though, he knew his father would never approve if he found out.

Only two years left, Christian reminded himself as he finished using the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. He was ready to explore and see the sights. Christian debated returning to his room, knowing there wasn't any other place for him to explore.

He wasn't allowed downstairs and currently the study was occupied. Christian let his curiosity get the better of him as he hobbled over to the open study door. He gritted his teeth as his weak body shivered from the effort, threatening to collapse. He hated his stupid, weak body. Why did he have to be born like this? Especially since he knew his father also regretted his existence.

"No, . I am merely telling you the vote was not unanimous since I wasn't informed to vote... Yes, I understand you are looking out for the whole community, but I don't think this is the way to do it. Have you even looked at their backgrounds? They are a bunch of..." Andrew trailed off as he glanced up from the papers on his desk noticing his pale son, panting in the door.

"We will discuss this later and I will be submitting my disapproval to the board." Andrew told her disconnecting the line. Andrew took a deep sigh, setting his phone on the desk. Christian always thought his dad looked older than he really was. Weighed down by the stress and exhaustion of his work.

"You didn't go into the office today." Christian mumbled as his father simply nodded, organizing the papers in front of him. Christian was the spitting image of his late wife. They had known the pregnancy would kill her, the love of his life. But she hadn't cared. Determined to have their son. If it weren't for the promise, he had made to her on her death bed, he probably would have given the child up for adoption. As it was now, he was left caring for his weak son who was only a constant reminder of what he had lost. But he supposed this was the hell he deserved.

"What are you doing up? Albert told you to rest." Andrew grunted softly, glancing up when his son didn't answer him. Christen stared at his toes looking like he hadn't aged past twelve. Somehow, he remained stuck looking like a child just about to hit puberty. His soft golden blond hair and sparkling sky-blue eyes were exact replicas of his sweet Maybelle. It hurt being with him, but Andrew knew he wasn't being fair. Christian was just a boy with a terrible curse.

"Come sit down at least. I don't want you falling over." Andrew grunted waving his pen at the empty seat across from his desk before continuing to pen out his letter to the committee. Christian perked up slightly, surprised his father didn't banish him.

"What did the community do that has you upset? Did they remove the gate access?" Christian tried sitting down slowly. He attempted to hide the fact his legs were trembling from trying to carry him so far. Andrew snorted at the thought.

"We would already be packing if that were the case. No. No, it seems we are getting new neighbors." Andrew grumbled going to open the blinds and gaze at the forgotten house. He had been paying for the yard maintenance, so it had at least some curb appeal. But he had hoped the place would remain empty. For a few more years at least if Albert was right.

"Nobody has lived there for years." Christian mumbled unsure. Was this good? Bad? It was clear his father was unhappy with the news, but Christian would be lying if he weren't a little bit excited. A giddy feeling was building in his chest, causing him to feel... happy. Somehow sure that this new development would change his life and remove the emptiness that had been filling his hollow shell. Andrew cast him a look frowning as Christian sniffled, staring at his knees, unable to hide his pleased smile at the news.

"I am not entirely against having neighbors, but these ones are trouble, and I don't like it." Andrew huffed, closing the blinds. He grumbled as he slid back into his chair behind the desk, rubbing his face tiredly. Anything would be better than those bloody monsters. Andrew cast his dark brown eyes over the last reminder of his late wife. Christian was innocent of the curse he bore. Ignorant of the truth Andrew fought so hard to hide.

The world was mostly what Andrew considered to be normal folk. Regular humans that lived out mundane lives, save for the extraordinary few who would end up doing something great with their lives. The rest of the world was made up of that stray five percent. Those that had somehow been cursed with magic.

Sure, most people believed that winning such a genetic lottery was a good thing. Something to be sought after, not shunned. But Andrew saw it for what magic truly was. A disease. A freak mutation that could just randomly explode, taking everyone down with it. Just like it took his Maybelle.

Within that five percent of anomalies, were two factions. The animals and the cursed. Once the magic became more mainstream and accepted, the things that went bump in the night came crawling out of the shadows. Animals that were magic born could talk and become more human. In fairy tales of old, they were commonly called werewolves or the like. Of course, such terms were considered slurs now and everyone simply called them moon kissed. An animal was an animal no matter how you labeled it.

At least that is how Andrew saw it. Even if they had families, Andrew decided looking at the photo of the new neighbors moving in next door. It was a family photo of four. A man and his wife with their set of twins, probably the same age as his son. The photo had been submitted along with their application Andrew was just now seeing after the call to vote took place over a week ago.

"How can you tell they are trouble?" Christian wondered unsure. The corners of his father's mouth sank low on his face as he considered his answer. Finally, he stood, crossing over to him, carrying the small picture with him. Christian was surprised when his father held it out to him, taking it carefully. There was a darker skinned man with thick curly hair and a beard trimmed close to the skin. He smiled as he held his wife to his side. Her short black hair had an edge to it and her skin was a bit lighter than her husbands, but they both shared warm brown eyes. 

Beside them were two young adults they shared similar features to their parents however, the boy was built like a mountain with broad shoulders and rich black hair that fell like straight silk over his shoulders. The girl barely reached his shoulder, with short pink hair. Christian glanced up unsure what he was supposed to be looking for.

"They are younger than you by more than half a year." Andrew grunted tapping the image and making Christian suck in a breath shocked. The attempt made him cough as he choked on his own air. Andrew quickly took the picture setting it on his desk and crouching in front of his trembling son.

"I am fine, just shocked is all." Christian mumbled. He panted nervously through his nose as his father worried for a moment.

"To be honest, I am too. For many reasons. I chose this community so that we can live without being near other people. I prefer the older crowd because it's quiet and slow. Most teenagers are loud, reckless, selfish and all over place. I was worried about the effect it would have on you since your sickness prevents you from joining in safely." Andrew grumbled more to himself. That was only half true. Well, probably less than that. Christian was part of that special five percent. Though it was more than that. He had won the biggest lottery Andrew had ever heard of.

Most magic touched developed their magic with age, their power become the most prominent at puberty. People would know if they were magic touched in their toddler years and were often sent off to train at a special school for the 'gifted'. Not every magic user was equal.

Some simply had the power to move small things across the room or heal bruises. Others could move buildings and raise the dead. Of course, with such powerful beings in existence, they were closely monitored and regulated. Like heavily guarded celebrities. Andrew always thought the magic was a disease, like a cancer that ate away at the user. Which it did, however, most did not dwell on that.

Magic was touchy at the best of times. The magic touched were merely just vessels, serving a power greater than themselves. When misused, the magic rebelled and often turned on the user. Some of the weaker ones simply stopped using their power and eventually, lost the magic they had once held. One of the more powerful ones had decided to play God and the magic killed them. Andrew knew Christian was extraordinary in the magic realm. Or would be if he had been aware of his true sickness.

Unlike all known magic touched that had their powers develop over time, Christian was literally born of magic. That power, that curse... killed his mother. Maybelle hadn't been able to carry Christian. There were complications and the doctors were sure she would miscarry. Christian's magic however, refused to let him die. Taking Maybelle's life in substitute of his own. Andrew still grieved for his beloved flower, trying to stop blaming his son for her death. Christian didn't kill her. His magic did. And that's why it was a curse.

Andrew exhaled through his nose as he tried to sort through his options. Having animals so close to his house, they were bound to notice something was up. Christian didn't exist to the world. No one could know about him. It was meant to protect him. Cause even if he couldn't stand to be around him, Andrew knew he couldn't completely forsake the only bit of Maybelle he had left.

Which started him on his journey. Christian was too young to control the power inside of him. Before he left the hospital there were vultures eager to take him away. At first, he had just refused them for Maybelle's sake, but eventually he realized how much he needed to protect his son.

He faked his death, claiming the magic consumed him and fled. Started a hate group against magic and the five percent cursed by it. He wasn't the only one who saw magic as a disease which allowed him to gain the footing needed to be a popular public speaker among the group.

Using the death of his family to feed into that belief. Magic was a disease that needed to be cured. No doubt the new neighbors would know him very well. Especially since he had had run ins with Mr. Sullivan in the recent past.

Mr. Sullivan, also known as Tom 'Wolf', was the lawyer who defended the moon kissed and magic touched. Mostly from Andrew's hate group that ended up in court with claims filed against him. Not that he was surprised.

Unfortunately, members of his group had formed somewhat of a cult, and though he didn't condone violence, he also turned the other cheek. No doubt when their new neighbors moved in, they would be shocked to see him knowing his history.

"This is going to be a headache." Andrew grumbled, tapping the desk with his fingers agitated. Perhaps moving would be the right call. Dr. Albert had sworn that as long as Christian remained ignorant of himself and his curse, that they could drain the magic from him and turn him human.

Much like the lesser magic touched. If he never used any magic, it would eventually disappear. Albert had estimated the magic to dry up by the time he turned twenty, only twenty-eight months left. They were almost there. Then he would have a son again.

"Maybe they will be nice." Christian tried, scooting a little closer to the desk. His father glanced up unconvinced as he looked over his fragile son.

"I am not concerned with them being nice. Tonya is nice, but that is not why I like her. I like her because she leaves us alone. As well as everyone else in our community. They are older and find it difficult to climb the hill, so we don't have to worry over unnecessary stress on you while you heal. Only two more years and then we are home free. I don't want everything to be ruined now because some kids can't mind their own damn business." Andrew grumbled, packing up the file and sticking it back in the envelope. That would be given back to Mrs. Tonya Cordon to be filed with the community's residents' logs.

"You really think I will get any better?" Christian wondered flexing his small hands. He had seen the picture of the new neighbor his age. How did he get to look like that while Christian looked so... pathetic? Andrew paused in his work at the tone of his voice. Christian looked so defeated staring at his own hands.

"I don't know kiddo. But if Albert thinks you will live, and we shouldn't fear the sickness, then I don't think its something we should focus on. I already made plans and I wish more than anything we can stick to them." Andrew told him, getting to his feet.

He went to the back wall where he kept his filing cabinets, shuffling through them before pulling out a small box.

"Come on, lets head back to your room first." Andrew paused beside his son, helping him to his feet when he struggled. A loud horn went off causing the pair of them to jump, glancing at the closed blinds.

"What was that?" Christian asked nervously as Andrew helped him back into the chair, giving him the box to hold. He watched as his father crossed the room quickly, opening the blinds on the sudden flurry of activity next door. The moving truck had its back down as Tonya greeted the new residents. Tom Sullivan smiling sweetly with the old lady as his wife directed the movers.

"Just bloody freaking great. I will be back; I am going to return this." Andrew hissed, grabbing the folder off his desk as he stormed out of the room. Christian watched him from his seat as his father grumbled something about timing down the stairs and out the front door.

He sat nervously, glancing at the window, before turning to the box in his lap. He decided to peek inside to occupy himself, blinking at the picture under the lid. An image of his father and mother standing with their back to the ocean caught his eye as he pulled out the folded sheet of paper beside it. Our family vacations. The top of the page read, in faded ink. Christian frowned as he turned the page over, noticing the small list in his father's handwriting. Places to take our son. Christian read through the list slowly, recognizing some of the places his father had mentioned once or twice in passing. The rest of the box had more pictures of his father and mother on similar outings as well as a bunch of post cards from all over the world.

Each one was addressed to their future son/daughter. Christian decided these pictures of his parents were taken well before he was conceived but it was clear how much they thought of him and how much his mother clearly wanted him as she continued to write him letters from the past. Christian sniffled, rubbing his face quickly when he realized he was crying. He never knew much about her since it hurt his father just mentioning her, but he could tell how much she had loved him and his father.

The last post card in the bottom of the box was in worse shape then the rest that had been preserved quite well. It had rips, a few stains, and quite of few creases. It was also the only post card not addressed to him.

Christian sat quietly as he read the last letter his mother ever wrote. Addressed to his father, begging him to remember to love their son and not blame him for her death. That he was the last gift she could give, and that Andrew needed Christian more than he needed a flower.

It was obvious now that his father had read and reread that letter multiple times in his grief. Wearing the paper down a little more each time. Christian put the letter back in the box, closing the lid tightly.

He had always known his relationship with his father was rocky. The loss of his mother the fuel behind it. But the destination planning, sightseeing, travel timeline was all written in his fathers' hand. Andrew planned on taking his son on a trip around the world, visiting all the places he once saw with Maybelle. They just needed time.

There was a sharp clashing sound causing him to jump startled before he decided to see the commotion for himself.

He carefully set the box on the chair, wandering over to peek through the blinds. So many people in one place had him in shock as they all moved about their business. Some were unloading the truck into the house as others spoke in groups.

His father among them. Andrew was mad, Christian could tell, but he tried to remain calm as he spoke with the man from the picture. His family just behind him trying to help unload.

The girl wore tight fitting clothes that showed off her curves. Her pink hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail at the top of her skull out of her face. She was pretty, Christian decided, but a little too wild for him.

He quickly scanned the others, pausing when he noticed her brother. His long black hair was braided out of his face as he wore a simple black tank tucked into his jeans. Christian hesitated when he looked him over, trying to decipher these strange new feelings. Was he jealous? Envious? Somehow that wasn't quite right as his heart raced when he smiled at his concerned mother.

There was a slight pause when she handed him a box, leaving him to take care of the item she gave him. He simply nodded turning toward the abandoned house, hesitating when he turned toward Christian's house instead.

For a moment, his breath caught in his throat as Christian felt their eyes lock. It only lasted a moment before Christians legs gave out and he crumpled onto the floor under the window.

* * * *

Andrew stormed down the stairs, careful not to slam his front door. He took a moment to compose himself before starting across the lawn toward the swarm of people. Tonya was standing on the sidewalk, leaning on a cane as she talked with Tom beside her new golf cart.

Probably helped her be more mobile in the neighborhood so she could continue to be active in everyone's business. Just great.

"Ah, Andrew! I didn't think you would be home yet; you normally clock in at the gate around 5:10 on the dot in the evenings. Just like clockwork. Come let me introduce you to your neighbor." Tonya started with a wide smile, pulling Tom's attention to the other man. His smiled faltered on his clean-shaven face, as Tom considered his options.

"Not interested, don't care. Just came to give this back." Andrew huffed throwing the envelop in her golf cart. He started to turn his back on them, only hesitating when Tonya held up her cane to block his attempt.

"Oh, don't be like that! Having a neighbor is a good thing! Besides, I thought you liked the magic folk. You go to all those rallies for them and such." Tonya started missing Andrews blank gawking stare at her incorrect assessment. "Andrew is quite popular for his rallies and things. He has a lot of people wishing to see him. It's why he moved into the gated community and all, to hide from his crazed fans. Oh lord, you should hear some the pleading over the intercom. We record them and play them back during game night to vote for the worst one each week." Tonya told Tom, chuckling happily as she motioned for Andrew to make small talk with the new folks.

"Famous indeed. Didn't realize we would be neighbors with a celebrity." Tom mentioned tightly, smiling with his teeth to please Tonya.

"You wouldn't have been if I had been informed of this sooner than this morning. And no, Mrs. Cordon. I despise the magic 'folk' and all that entails. The thought of being in the same community, let alone neighbors, with a bunch of mutt's sickens me. Keep a leash on or whatever and don't shit in my yard. I would prefer it if you just stayed away from my house at all times. Don't bother being friendly or neighborly because I couldn't give a damn about returning the favor." Andrew said calmly watching the surprised shock take over Tonya's features. Her eyes big like saucers as if she had just seen Andrew change colors or something.

"We will keep that in mind." Tom growled back, keeping his smile in place. Tom considered some choice language to respond when Andrew gave a curt nod in agreement. Hesitating when Andrew's demeanor changed drastically, becoming suddenly more hostile.

"Everything okay dad?" Ciara asked her father watching the old dude from her collection of hate pamphlets scowl at her. He really hated their kind as he clenched his fists while his nostrils flared in anger.

"You should dress your children to not look like harlots in this neighborhood. I am surprised they even let you in just based on her attire. I am not ringing in any of your slut friends or boyfriends." Andrew hissed jamming his finger at the gate to make it clear he would not help them in anyway. Tom simply put his arm out in front of his daughter as she turned red in the face.

"Ciara, I was just saying hello to our wonderful neighbor, Andrew." Tom growled as Andrew growled back. The smaller old lady between them.

"Look, dude. We get it. We wont bug you. We leave you alone, you leave us alone. Besides, we don't even like the taste of cat." The taller boy grunted, putting a hand on his sisters' head. Jaci frowned at the visible confusion in the man's face, before he sighed. "I am saying we won't eat your cat. I saw you had one up in the window." Jaci grunted with the nod of his head. Indicating the study window covered with blinds. Tom, paused watching the color drain from Andrews face, turning and hurrying back to his house. The smell of his anger quickly dissipating as fear tainted the air. Interesting.

"I don't think he believed you." Ciara hummed, pulling out from under Jaci's arm. He was heavy and she didn't want to be crushed.

"Leave him be. Avoid him if possible. Let's not hang outside longer than necessary where he can see and harass us. Come on, lets finish unloading and be done for the day." Tom encouraged his children before turning and apologizing to Tonya for their outburst.

"He doesn't really come off as a cat person. Though he is definitely a creep." Ciara huffed, decided to work on unpacking inside the house. Harlot? What century were they in? Darn jerk. Jaci, smiled after her as she worked on coming up with the right name to call their new neighbor. Sure, moving into this community was going to be great. Jaci glanced at the house one last time feeling bad for the poor animal stuck living with the angry jerk.

CHAPTER TWO

Christian pouted from his doorway as he eyed the closed study door. His father started locking it after the new people moved in next door. Christian sighed, glancing around the rest of the house. His body couldn't handle the stairs on his own, so he wasn't allowed to wander down to the first floor.

He never thought his house would somehow become more boring than before. Christian grumbled shuffling back into his room, plopping onto his bed with a sad sigh. Life sucked. Why was he even born? A sharp yipping sound drew his attention to the window. He waited for the sound to repeat itself, sitting up when it did. What was that? It didn't sound like any bird he knew.

Christian slowly slid off his bed, wandering over to the window. He waited quietly, moving the curtain so he could see into the back yard. Just over the fence in his neighbors back yard he could see the new equipment set up. Something that looked like ramps and tunnels even a few random bars held at different heights.

The window protested as he turned the lock and struggled to open the stubborn frame, letting the fall breeze blow his curtains around. He panted weakly against the sill, frowning at the clear view. Christian couldn't figure out what it was all for before the bright pink hair sprinted into view. A massive black dog racing beside her as they charged through the obstacle course.

The sun seemed to make the dark coat shiny as the animal jumped high over the bars coming to a stop beside the young girl. She was only wearing a sports bra and some skintight leggings showing off her well-toned form. Christen swallowed as he looked her over wondering if everyone one his age looked more impressive them himself.

"Yes, best time yet! Your speed has really been improving. What are you trying to run away from?" The girl teased the animal as it huffed at her....