Silver Smoke (#1 of Seven Halos Series) (2 page)

"Not now. Your brother is coming." Sirena stepped toward the Vespa, but Brie gripped her arm.

"You can't leave me here without an explanation," she said, tightening her grip. "I can call the police."

Sirena yelped. "You're hurting me." She pulled her arm away. It was only then that Brie realized her nails had drawn blood from Sirena's arm.

Sirena licked her wound the way a cat might lick its paw. "We'll talk at school." She gave Brie a quick hug, which stunned Brie too much to shove off or return. Sirena hopped into the seat of the Vespa just as the voices neared the yard where they stood.

Sirena flipped her head back and put her finger to her lips. "Don't tell them about this," she said.

"Don't tell anyone." Then, both she and the Vespa disappeared into thin air right before Brie's eyes.

*****

Pilot spoke to Brie in quick, harsh tones, but Rykken ignored them. Rykken's skin still prickled; he was beginning to believe that something besides the paparazzi stalked them.

He'd seen a mysterious flash of white movement, accompanied by the same prickling sensation only one other time: two months earlier, at the funeral. It was August, and despite the heat and the large crowd, the inside of the Manhattan cathedral had felt hollow, the air sterile. The white stone walls stretched several stories high and echoed with whispers of sorrow, sobs of regret, and rumors of excitement all at once. Even the tall arches that held the blue, tinted-glass windows did nothing to let in natural sunlight.

The only hint of warmth in that otherwise cold interior was the bright hibiscus flowers that decorated every corner of the church, from the pews to the aisles to the massive altar at the front.

Rykken was there for Pilot, but it was Brie everyone else was looking at. She was beautiful, and even in mourning she had a sparkle about her.

"I can't believe she wore an azure dress to a funeral," a girl in the row behind him whispered.

Rykken glanced back in surprise.

"Shut up Adele." The tall guy standing next to her pushed his red hair out of his pale face. "Her mom just died. Let her wear whatever color she wants."

Brie picked up a bouquet of red hibiscus flowers and made her way to the polished wooden casket. She stood there, hesitating before drawing one of the flowers from the arrangement. Rykken heard shuffling in the back, followed by the same prickling sensation on his arms. Then he turned and saw the same flash of brilliant white, moving slightly beyond his vision. There were too many people in black blocking the exit for him to see anything more.

When Brie finally placed a solitary hibiscus on the family crest of her mother's coffin, cameras clicked, creating images that would be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars by the next morning.

*****

The cold, blue cement walls of Punahou's hallways had not calmed Pilot's nerves as he and Rykken made their way to the boy's locker room to clean up. There was little hope of keeping his unapproved drive a secret from James because the minute Pilot had pulled into the school parking lot, the other students were on their phones, snapping pictures of the wrecked passenger side. If it wasn't the paparazzi antagonizing him, it was the technology-empowered high school grapevine. Both he and Rykken had missed their entire water polo practice and most of their second period classes as well. The only reason they had come to the gym at all was to take showers and change into fresh clothes.

It felt good to wash away the sweat and stink of the morning mishap in silence, but—

"Busted!" someone bellowed as Pilot walked out of his shower stall. Justin, a senior on the varsity polo team, stood near the door smirking at him. He held up a cell phone. "Heard about your run-in with the paps."

"I'm screwed." Pilot punched in his locker combination. "But at least we're here on time."

"Actually, you aren't. Didn't you know?" Justin's curly black hair fluttered as he shook his head, laughing. "Only you could scratch up a three hundred thousand dollar car and still be worried about punctuality."

Pilot looked up. "I was being sarcastic." He threw a wadded damp towel at Justin, which Justin deflected lazily. "James is going to
kill
me. Make no mistake."

But it wasn't James that Pilot was worried about. The Aston may have been stripped of a good portion of the paint on the passenger side, but it was otherwise drivable.

On the other hand, Brie standing there by herself in some stranger's yard as if she had just seen a ghost made Pilot crazy. His hands shook a little as he remembered yelling at Brie—for running away impulsively and scaring the shit out of him with her delusions. The guilt of his words weighed on him. He was thankful that Rykken was there to help him find Brie and get her back to the car.

Justin smirked, as if he could read Pilot's thoughts. "I hope your pretty sister is okay. Maybe she'll need someone new to drive her to school tomorrow."

Pilot's shoulders tensed just as Rykken appeared from his shower stall. "Brie is fine." Rykken grabbed a towel. "Why would you say that? We were in a car accident."

Justin smiled wickedly. "I ask because I care." Rykken rolled his eyes, but Justin's grin grew wider. "I don't want to see anything happen to the hottest sophomore in the entire school."

"Back off man." Pilot intended for his warning to be firm yet calm, but the slight boom he heard in his tone told him he wasn't fooling anyone. He pulled a soft white polo shirt over his head, deciding not to care if he seemed a little overprotective. He wasn't going to stand for any locker room talk about Brie, and there was no point in hiding his contempt from Justin.

"Why should I back off?" Justin leaned against the lockers with a thumb in the front of his pants, like he was posing for an Abercrombie catalog. "She's my type. Brunette hair, green eyes, natural tan—"

"In that case," Rykken said, raising his voice, "Pilot must be your type too."

Justin laughed. "Pilot is all yours man. Have at it." Rykken made a face, but Justin sauntered over to Pilot. "I need you to put in a good word with Brie for me, bro. We're friends, right?"

"Exactly," Pilot said, masking his annoyance by matching Justin's playful tone. He patted Justin on the back. "That's why you need to stay away from my sister—no unnecessary complications in our friendship."

Rykken chuckled as he dried his long, dark hair with a towel. Pilot's warning didn't faze Justin though. He merely grinned, clearly enjoying teasing Pilot about this. He leaned in closer to Pilot. "I think we should let her decide, don't you?"

Pilot slammed his locker shut, facing Justin. "Good luck with that."

"Don't egg him on," Rykken said to Pilot, walking over to his own locker. "And definitely don't wish him luck. He's gotten lucky with a couple younger girls in the past."

Justin shot Rykken a nasty look, the same one he reserved for those moments when their coach praised Rykken. Over the summer, their coach had named Rykken water polo captain instead of Justin, even though Rykken was only in his junior year at Punahou. Since then, the two hadn't been nearly as chummy as back in the day when all three of them played club polo together.

"I'm joking Justin." Rykken backed up slightly, but enough to placate Justin and avoid a fight.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"I forgot my watch." Justin always wore a silver high-tech Christian Dior watch. It was a gift from his mother and he wore it every day, even though he never used it to check the time. He punched in the combination to his locker and retrieved it, holding it up so the light could reflect off its shiny surface.

"I'm hurt," Pilot replied. "I thought you came here to rip on us."

"That too." Justin grinned. "But it's getting a little boring, so I'm gonna split. See you two at lunch." He shut his locker and strutted out the door.

Pilot balled his fist, tapping it against his locker. Rykken looked up. "Ignore him."

"I can't." Pilot exhaled, shaking his head. "I'm already worried about Brie and I don't need him messing with her."

"She's fine," Rykken replied automatically. "We found her this morning. No one is hurt."

"Come on! She thought she saw our
mother?
You were at the funeral—our mom is dead. That doesn't seem fine to me."

Rykken shrugged his shoulders. "Losing her mom was traumatic and she is still recovering." He slung his athletic bag over his shoulder and hesitated. "Are you sure she's not looking for attention? You said she does that sometimes."

Pilot scowled, pressure building in his chest. Rykken held up his hands, palms out in surrender.

"Just asking," he said.

"I know Brie isn't your favorite person, but she's my sister."

"It's fine. I don't have a problem with her." But Rykken's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He sat down on the bench, setting his bags next to him. "You want my advice?" He laced his fingers together, propping his chin with his hands as he spoke. "You can't expect your family to recover from your mom's death in two months."

"I know," Pilot said miserably. "I just think this
thing
with Brie—whatever it is—is different."

Rykken stood up. "Give it time. She's going to get through this. You both are." He walked to the door, scooping up his backpack and athletic bag on the way. "You coming?" he asked.

Pilot held up his phone. "I need to make a quick call."

Rykken left the locker room, leaving Pilot alone on the bench. He needed help. After several minutes of staring at the blue metal lockers, he made his decision. He opened his cell, searching for the number of James van Rossum.

*****

Brie scanned the outdoor courtyard where most of the students convened for lunch. The green, expansive courtyard was littered with benches for students to eat at and trees for students to huddle around. A criss-cross of sidewalks led to every building in the entire school, including the elementary and middle schools. Punahou served grades kindergarten to high school, but luckily, the teenagers were separated from their younger counterparts.

Most high schools had cliques, but the cliques at Punahou were almost always based on sports—the school was obsessed with athletics. The largest were the cheerleaders, the water polo players, the football players, the girl's volleyball players, and the cross country runners. Then there were the more obscure sports—teams for kayaking, bowling, karate, and air riflery, whatever that was. Within each group, students segregated themselves further by athletic level—varsity one, varsity two, junior varsity, and sometimes a freshman team.

Brie bit her lip, overwhelmed by the swarms of students and at a loss for where to sit and whom to talk to. If she
had
wanted to tell anyone about her morning, Sirena's disappearing act guaranteed she would not.

Brie tried to remember what happened after Sirena disappeared. Pilot and Rykken had found her and Pilot wrapped his arms around her tightly. She barely remembered the angry words that poured out of him in the moments that followed. Rykken had been somewhere, standing away from the siblings, avoiding eye contact with Brie. When their eyes finally met, Rykken's spoke only of accusations.

No one had said much for the rest of the car ride. The next thing she knew she was in the school parking lot.

Surrounded by people and cameras, she came to life again, but only on autopilot. It was her routine that got her through every day since she had first set foot in Honolulu. If she lay low, the media would have no story, and then they would have to leave her alone.

On normal days, she convinced everyone—students, teachers, strangers—that she was adjusting to her new life and moving past her mother's death. At night, she retreated to the cocoon of her bed's comforter where she lay in peace, paralyzed by her grief.

Today felt different though. For the first time in awhile, Brie wanted something—but the one person who could give it to her hadn't been in classes all morning.
We'll talk at school.
Brie felt betrayed by her friend's absence. Where was Sirena?

Someone called her name, but she smiled and waved and kept moving. Brie wandered past the courtyard toward a lesser-known alcove of the Punahou campus. She hoped for a quiet place to think and sulk, but to her surprise, a group of varsity cheerleaders had already claimed her favorite shaded gazebo.

One of the cheerleaders tilted her head with interest, letting her bouncy sun-kissed black curls fall across her heart-shaped face. "Brie! We've been waiting for you."

"You have?" Brie asked both surprised and agitated. The other two cheerleaders turned sharply. Brie realized her mistake a second too late as each of the girls' faces registered in her mind. It was Thessa, Clara, and Cora—Sirena's friends that Brie sometimes hung out with at school. Was she supposed to meet them today? She couldn't remember.

For a moment, Brie was struck by Thessa's big, brown eyes. They were intense and pretty, but slightly inhuman. Cora gave Brie a curious look, and her twin sister Clara looked at her like she was an insect they were dissecting in biology lab.

Brie took a deep breath. "I meant, have any of you seen Sirena? She was supposed to meet me for...

today," Brie trailed off lamely.

"What's wrong?" asked Cora, suddenly on alert. She grabbed Brie's wrist and pulled her up the gazebo's steps. A flash of alarm overwhelmed Brie, but before she could say anything, Cora released her.

"You seem frantic," she said accusingly. "Why are you looking for Sirena?"

"Oh no," said Clara, folding her arms across her chest. "Did Sirena say something weird to you?" She faced Thessa, lowering her voice. "I thought you said we could trust her not to interfere."

"Wait—interfere?" The phrase caught Brie's attention. "Interfere with what?"

Thessa gave Clara a dirty look. "Nothing."

"If this has anything to do with my mom and how Sirena looks freakishly like her and—" Brie inhaled sharply—
how Sirena can control the paparazzi and disappear on a whim...

The three girls stared at her, shock painted on their faces.

Finally, Thessa spoke up. "Why would you think this had anything to do with your mom?"