Bluedawn (A Watermagic Novel, #2)

Copyright © 2013 by Brighton Hill

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A Watermagic Novel

Brighton Hill

~ Dreamspot Publishing, Inc. ~

CHAPTER ONE

Your next encounter will be
with the Sirens, who bewitch every man that approaches them… For
with the music of their song the Sirens cast their spell upon him,
as they sit there in a meadow piled high with the moldering
skeletons of men, whose withered skin still hangs upon their
bones.
–CIRCE TO ODYSSEUS, THE ODYSSEY,
BOOK XII

“What took you guys so long?” I tried to calm
myself as I stood in the circular driveway beside our motorhome
watching my mother, Josette Bellerose. She was getting out of her
cousins’ 57 black Ford Custom 300 that reminded me of a car you
would see in a mafia film.

Mom tossed her long golden hair over one thin
shoulder and winked at me playfully. “Missed you too, Hailes.”

I rolled my eyes. Dad and I were already
loading the motorhome and she was supposed to be home yesterday to
help. But as usual she had disappeared off somewhere with her
teenage French relatives for the past week. All she said was that
they were exchange students at Santa Monica High School in Los
Angeles and she had to look after them from time to time.

Dad didn’t seem to mind that she was late
though. He kissed her hard on the mouth as her five gorgeous
cousins got out of the car.

“Jim,” Mom whispered. “I missed you.” She
giggled for a second as he dipped her like they were ballroom
dancing.

“Oh, please,” Laurent said shaking his head
at my parents’ overt affection while he opened the trunk of their
pristine black car and took out my mother’s suitcase.

If he wasn’t my second cousin, I wouldn’t
mind dating him. Not really, but most people would. He, as well as
Marcel and Pascal, were some of the best looking guys I’d ever
seen. Their eyes, like Mom’s, were an amazing electric blue that
reminded me of a tropical ocean during a lightning storm. The only
problem was that their hair was way too long and they dressed a
little strange, mixing 1730’s French attire with modern designer
clothes. In some ways they looked more like rock stars than high
school students.

Dad let go of Mom and took her suitcase from
Laurent. “Good to see you,” Dad said as he patted him on the
back.

Laurent flinched and backed away. But my
father didn’t seem to notice. He just turned to gorgeous Marine who
was tucking and then stabbing a loose strand of long black hair
back into Brigitte’s bun with a pearl stick pin.

“How was Josette?” he asked the girls.

“Josette was naughty,” Brigitte laughed. Her
voice was so hypnotic that it almost sounded musical. “She ate way
too much and swam all night.”

Dad crossed his arms over his chest and
looked at Mom who was purposely ignoring him as she kissed me on
both sides of my cheeks and carried her suitcase with ease up the
steps of the motorhome. She stopped on the last step and turned.
“Not true.” Her voice was higher pitched than Brigitte’s, but just
as lovely. “I made all the arrangements with the principal and his
staff. Now you kiddies can rule the school.” A spark of mischief
gleamed in her eyes.

“She’s telling the truth,” Marcel interjected
as he tossed something that looked almost like a tiny sand crab in
his mouth. The shell crunched as he chewed. And then I remembered
that was another odd thing about my mother’s family. French people
must have weird taste in food, I reasoned. At least they did.

“Hurry up,” Pascal called as he waved his
cousins back in the car. “We have to make it back in time for that
dreadful orientation to establish our presence at our new
school.”

“He’s right,” Mom said to the others. “The
principal expects you to go.”

“Have fun on your camping trip,” Marine
called to us as she blew kisses and then got into the car with her
cousins.

“Be safe,” they all called at once. “Don’t
talk to strangers.”

That confused me when they did that.
Sometimes it seemed as if they were almost of one mind the way they
spoke in unison. Even my mother’s lips moved with theirs.

We all waved and they blew too many kisses as
they peeled out onto the street and sped away like devils.

Dad shook his head as he walked over to the
front porch and picked up some of the stuff we had piled by the
door for the trip. “Those crazy kids,” he said as he stepped into
the motorhome.

My mother had her suitcase open on the
kitchen table. It was overfilled with clothes.

“Do you really need all this stuff?” I asked
as I hung up Mom’s evening dresses in the closet.

Dad set down her gigantic makeup box. “What
would Josette Bellerose do without her fancy adornments?” He
teased.

“All right, enough guys,” she warned light
heartedly from the kitchen. She was great at concealing her French
accent. Like her cousins, most of the time, she sounded very
American. “At least I’m not bringing that rhinestone studded
bathing suit I wore last time we camped at the beach.”

“What’s this?” Dad asked as he picked up a
silver chain with shells and sea stones.

“That’s for my waist.” She peaked around the
kitchen divider at Dad who was standing next to her vanity
table.

“Oooh, sassy,” he chuckled as he walked over
to her and clasped the ornamentations just above her hips.

She brushed her long golden hair out of her
pretty face as she giggled at his touch the way some teenage girls
at my high school acted when they had a new boyfriend. Her hands
threaded around his big, hulking body.

“Okay, no more public displays of affection
please.” I rolled my eyes wondering if I would ever find the kind
of love they had. Most boys I found annoying, pimply, and shallow.
And the few times that I was interested in a guy, he wasn’t
interested in me.

I think I was the only almost
eighteen-year-old alive who had never even kissed a boy. If only I
had been blessed with thick, luxurious golden hair and stunning
looks like Mom, but instead I was plain with straggly brown locks
like Dad that tangled up in the wind.

Finally, we got the motorhome organized. Dad
and Mom took the two front seats and I lay down in the back reading
from my e-reader for a while. Once I got bored with
Wuthering
Heights
, I called my friends before joining Mom and Dad behind
their seats on the bench that ran across the wall and pulled out
into a bed.

For the most part, the coastal drive from our
Laguna home to Carlsbad was relatively short. We stopped once at a
rest spot to check a rattling sound on the car we were towing
behind the motorhome and to buy candy bars. Most of the travels
were uneventful. For much of the ride, I stared out the window
watching the ocean and palm trees whiz by as I chatted with
Dad.

But on the freeway, Mom sang the whole time
which always put me in a sort of hypnotic state making the trip
pass quicker. Dad and I joined in occasionally too. As a family, we
were geeky in that way. Though Mom had a beautiful voice, Dad and I
were severely lacking in the musical department. I was just glad
none of my friends were with us to see how goofy we were.

When we pulled into the woods at the
campground, my parents discussed payment and park rules for the
site at the ranger’s booth and chatted with him through the
motorhome window. I was anxious to start our day, so I rushed over
to the adjacent mini-market for some sunscreen. I knew they could
go on and on with their jibber-jabber.

As I jogged over through the clearing, tiny
stones kept getting in my sandals. How frustrating. I tried to
ignore the irritation, biting my lip hard as I ran. But once the
saturation level became unbearable, I stopped to shake the darn
things out.

That’s when it happened. When I stood back up
from shaking out the stones, I saw a crazy good looking boy. This
sort of thing NEVER happened to me. My body felt like it was on
fire. He looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t place where I had
seen him before.

He and his two friends were walking out of
the log cabin store. I hardly noticed the other two boys because
the one with dark hair caught my attention and made me feel all out
of whack. He was a little different. When he walked, he had a
slight limp.

He was gorgeous, but as I looked closer, I
realized he was staring at me with a sinister gleam in his green
eyes. Chills ran up my spine. What was I thinking? I wondered what
I could have done to illicit such a glare.

But before I could turn away, one of the
other boys, the shirtless one with sandy blond hair, called over to
me, “Hey, cutie. Come on over so we can suck face.” His lips
puckered in a kissing sound.

Involuntarily, my eyes widened in surprise. I
looked around for a moment to see if he was talking to someone
else. Nope. It must have been me. I was the only one around. What a
creep.

Before I could respond, the guy with dark
hair and the limp grabbed the blond one by the shoulders and threw
him to the ground. “Idiot,” he yelled. And then he kicked him hard
in the ribs.

I gasped and covered my face. Once I opened
my eyes to see what was happening, I saw the dark haired boy brush
his messed up locks off his brow. His expression was intense.

Their other friend who had brown hair pulled
up the blond guy onto his feet. But while he was helping him up,
the dark haired boy punched him once more in the nose. He choked
for a moment on the blood that was now oozing from his nostrils,
yet he managed to gain his balance.

“Come on,” the dark haired boy said to the
other two.

The brown haired guy helped the blond one
walk. He was out of balance, nearly falling over. But they all
strode away toward the campsites. Then, to make the circumstances
even stranger, the dark haired guy looked back over his shoulder
and smiled at me.

What the hell! My face must have turned as
red as a tomato. I was so confused. I didn’t know what to make of
the whole situation.

At once, I just turned around and ran back to
our motorhome. Oh, my! My heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked when I stepped back
into our vehicle.

“I’m fine,” I breathed, trying to act normal.
My mind was all mixed up.

“Your face is flushed.” Her blue eyes were
laced with concern.

Dad looked back at me as he took the ticket
through the window from the park ranger. “You look like you saw a
ghost.” He laughed.

He turned back to the man. “Thanks for your
help.”

“You all be careful, now,” the ranger
responded through the booth window. “Don’t walk outside alone at
night. Some strange business has been going on here. Some teenagers
were reported missing.” His voice was hesitant, but Mom and Dad
were focused on me now, so they didn’t hear him.

“Okay, bye, Ranger Mike.” Dad pulled the
motorhome forward along a forest of trees toward the campsites that
nestled within the outer edges. The car tow swayed a little side to
side as we rolled along the dirt road. I noticed the greying light
gave the campground an ominous look.

Dad was glancing at me in the rear view
mirror. “Did you get something from the store?” He cleared his
throat.

“No.” I blushed probably even redder. “I’ll
go later.”

“What happened?” Mom asked running her
fingers through her long golden locks before twisting them up into
a French knot.

“Nothing.” I was sitting stiffly on the bench
seat that paralleled the side windows. “I just didn’t want to hold
you guys up. It’s your special week and I’m catering to you.”

Mom and Dad laughed. “You don’t have to do
that, Hailey,” Dad said. His eyes were focused ahead now.

“Well, I’m going to,” I responded adamantly.
“Twenty year anniversaries don’t happen every day and I want yours
to be memorable.” I planned this trip just for them. Mom’s favorite
place was the ocean and Dad found every place annoying so it didn’t
make a difference where we went.

“You’re a keeper, Hailes.” Dad parked the
motorhome in campsite number 12. “Here we are,” he said cheerily as
he pulled on the security brake.

Mom unbuckled her seatbelt and almost glided,
as was her way, over to the vanity mirror to put on fresh lipstick
and powder her face. “So what’s the plan for today?” she called
out.