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Authors: Lisa Papademetriou

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BOOK: Siren's Storm
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“Woman, you boss me around like you’re the queen of England,” Will’s father said playfully.

She flicked a kitchen towel at him. “I’m the queen of the house.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“It’s Your
Majesty
,” she corrected.

“Got it.” Will’s dad winked at him and headed down the hall to wash up.

Will took the tomatoes to the stove and added them to the pan, where onions were already browning. The pulpy juice immediately began to bubble and turn orange around the edges in the sweet butter.

“Thanks, Will. Would you go find Tim for me? Let him know that we’re about to eat?”

“Sure.” Will loped upstairs, then climbed the ladder and poked his head up through the floor. “Tim?”

No answer.

Will climbed up to the top. Tim had converted the attic to his room the year before. It had low ceilings and only two tiny windows. But from the windows, there was a beautiful sweeping view. To the left were dunes and beyond that the sea. To the right was the bay. Tim spent hours up there, reading or playing the guitar. It was a cozy space, and Will often joined his brother there for long talks.

Will walked over to the window and looked down over the farmland below. The rows of iris had just begun to explode into ribbons of vibrant colors. Flowers were a lucrative crop, and these sat next to the thick, bushy heirloom tomatoes—just flowers, no fruit yet—and the smaller rows of sage, thyme, and dill. To the left was the bluff, and beyond the rows were the dunes, and then the sea. Will saw two figures down there. One was Tim. The other, with long blond hair lit by the setting sun, was Gretchen.

Will hesitated a moment, watching them. They seemed deep in conversation. He wondered what they were saying. Will knew how Tim felt about Gretchen—everyone knew. And Will could only assume that Gretchen felt the same way. Of course she loved Tim. Will had always feared that he would end up the third wheel instead of the third Musketeer. Maybe this year would be the year.…

“Will!” Mrs. Archer called up the stairs. “Tell Tim he has two minutes!”

Will hustled down the stairs and out the door. He cut across the fields between two rows of beans dotted with small white flowers along the vines. But by the time he’d reached the sand, Tim was alone.

He’d been standing at the edge of the water, watching the waves. Just as Asia watched them now.

Will stood looking at her, wondering what to say.

“I know you’re there,” she whispered after a moment, although she didn’t turn to look at him.

“All right,” he said, and she whipped around to face him. Her sandals fell into the retreating water with a splash.

Will hurried to retrieve them, and Asia’s face had somewhat recovered by the time he handed them—crusted with sand—back to her.

“Thank you.” She spoke to the sandals rather than to him.

He looked at her carefully. “You seem surprised to see me.”

Asia looked up at him, but didn’t speak. Will felt a tremble of doubt. He’d been sure that she’d been talking to him, but now he wondered if the words “I know you’re there” could have been meant for someone else.

“You didn’t like the party?” He stood close to her, so close that the top of her head was level with his chin. His body burned with the desire to brush that hair with his lips.

“It was too hot.” She looked up at him. “Too many bodies.”

He felt her voice, like music, through his body. He looked down into her eyes. “Can you explain to me
how someone as small as you could intimidate someone as large as Jason Detenber?”

She went rigid. “What?”

The word was a clang—like a door slamming. It shook him, and Will blinked. “Gretchen told me what happened.”

“Did she?” Her voice had gone soft again, musical.

Will felt sleepy, but he fought it. “She did.”

“Are you certain?” It was a long note, almost a song.

Just agree
, whispered a voice in his mind. But he couldn’t let it go. There were too many holes in his memory—too many questions. He needed some answers. “Yes.”

Asia cocked her head. She looked at him a long time. He had almost given up when she said, “You’re different.”

“What?” Will was so surprised by this that he took a step backward. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t many like you, Will.”

Will didn’t know what to say. “I’m nothing special.”

Asia just looked at him. “Most … people … have weak minds.”

“You say ‘people’ as if you aren’t one of us.”

“Life is full of mysteries,” Asia said at last. She held his gaze, but just for a moment, and then she kissed him on the jaw.

Before he even realized what happened, she was walking away across the sand. Will put a hand to his forehead. His brain was muddy, as if he’d just walked across a clear river, stirring up silt. He watched the
white form as it began to fade from view. “You don’t have to be so mysterious all the time!” he shouted after her.

But she didn’t turn back.

Will sighed. He looked over at the pier. Gretchen and Angus were leaning against the railing, talking and smiling.
Would she even really notice if I skipped the party?
But Will knew that she would. He didn’t want to go, but it wasn’t worth hurting her feelings.

The sand rasped softly underfoot as he headed toward his friends. As he approached the pier, the gentle roar of the sea beside him subsided, giving way to sounds of music and laughter.

“Will!” Gretchen, half dangling over the side of the railing, waved frantically at him. He waved back, and hurried his steps toward the pier.

She fought her way through a thicket of moist bodies to reach him at the end of the pier, near the sand. “You made it,” she said. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, and her smile lit up her whole face. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a pretty red halter dress. He was taken off guard at how beautiful she was. Usually Gretchen was just … Gretchen. But here, with her hair blowing in the soft breeze, she looked different to him.

Angus had gotten caught by Gina Abernathy—the chattiest girl in Walfang—and it took him a moment to extricate himself. “Hey, man,” he said, appearing at Gretchen’s side. “A couple of people are talking about building a bonfire on the beach. What do you think?”

Someone screamed from the other end of the pier,
and that was when Will saw the figure standing atop the railing at the edge. Someone reached out as the figure spread its arms wide.

“Holy—”

Splash
.

“Gretchen!” She was already running toward the end of the pier, and Will darted after her. “Gretchen!” She stopped at the railing and looked out over the edge.

The figure in the water splashed and writhed.

“Shit.” Will kicked off his shoes. There were screams and movement around him. A hand grabbed at his shirt as Will climbed over the rail, but he pushed it away.

“Stop him!” Gretchen’s voice.

“Will!” Angus’s voice came to him from far away.

Below, Will saw white foam around the frantic figure. Someone threw a life preserver into the water, but the figure ignored it.

“It’s Kirk Worstler,” Angus said, and then Will stepped into the open air. For a moment he was weightless as he plunged, feet first, into the water.

Will heard someone—Gretchen?—screaming his name, but in a few quick strokes he had reached the life preserver. Grabbing it, he kicked until he was face to face with Kirk. Kirk’s eyes were black, pupils dilated wide, and his dark hair streamed down his face.

“They’re coming. They’re almost here,” Kirk spluttered as a slight wave caught him in the mouth. “They’ve come for her.”

“What?” Will reached out, but Kirk slapped his hand away.

“Vengeance rushes from the mouths of the serpents. They’ve come for her—will she breathe fire on them?” Kirk looked at him. “They’ve tasted your blood.”

“Who?”

“The seekriegers are singing. They’ve come for her. Can you hear them? Can you hear them?”

“No, dude. No—I can’t hear them.”

“No?” Only Kirk’s head was visible above the water, eyes huge, pale skin. “You don’t hear them?” He looked vulnerable, like a child.

“Will,” said a voice.

It was Asia. Her head floated on the water nearby, hair slicked away from her face.

Kirk started screaming, and Will had to pin his arms to his sides. Reaching out, Asia touched Kirk’s hair. He struggled away from her, but she leaned forward and sang something into his ear. Will couldn’t catch the words—they were on his deaf side.

After a moment Kirk quieted. Then he seemed to lapse into a state of semiconsciousness.

“It’s time to go back,” Will told him. He gestured toward the shore.

Kirk had grown very still. Only his legs still beat the water, keeping him afloat. Will took loosened his grip and gently led Kirk to the red and white life preserver.

“I’m behind you,” Asia said.

“Won’t they be angry?” Kirk asked dreamily as Will kicked his way toward the shore.

“Who?”

“The seekriegers.”

Will didn’t know what that meant. “I don’t think so,” seemed like the safest answer.

“Good.” Kirk seemed to sink a little, and his eyelids drooped. “I’m so tired.”

“We’re close now.”

“I can’t hear them anymore.”

“That’s okay.”

A few of the partygoers watched from the pier, but most had gathered by the shore as Will and Kirk staggered out of the surf. Once he was back on his legs, Kirk’s body started to sag a little, and Will had to hold him up.

Will helped Kirk to the sand, where he sat shivering, knees to chin. “The seekriegers have come for her. The song sleeps on the wind, waiting for deliverance.…”

Gina appeared with a towel, which she wrapped around Kirk’s shoulders as he babbled on. People gathered around in a big circle, whispering and talking.

“Would you give him some room?” Will snapped.

Nobody did.

Will turned, expecting to see Asia nearby, but she was nowhere to be found.
Was she even really there?
he wondered.
Or did I dream that?
With his eyes, Will measured the distance from the shore to the place where Kirk had jumped. It was significant.
Asia must be a strong swimmer
.

“Will, hey—” It was Harry Ansell. His eyes were worried beneath his thick, straight brows. “Listen, would you … would you mind taking Kirk home?” He
swept his five-hundred-dollar shaggy haircut out of his eyes. “Before the cops get here, I mean?”

“Will!” Gretchen was sprinting toward him. Angus loped behind her.

“Will—what the hell?” She punched him in the arm, hard. “What do you think you’re doing? That drug addict could’ve killed you!”

“You don’t even know the kid.” Will thought about the gentleness in Kirk’s face, the fear. “He might be crazy, but I don’t think he’s on anything.”

“I can’t believe this,” Gretchen snapped. She stalked off across the sand, toward the parking lot. Will wanted to run after her, but he was too tired. He knew she was just worried about him and that she’d calm down. Eventually.

Will looked at his friends. Ansell seemed worried. And Angus was watching Kirk, who had curled up into a ball and fallen asleep beneath the towel.

“Why did he jump?” Ansell asked.

“I don’t know—some crazy shit. Something about sea critters.”

Angus looked at him sharply. “Seekriegers?”

“What? Yeah. Why—is that a thing?”

Angus shrugged. “I don’t know. My grandfather used to talk about them.”

“What are they?”

“Mermaids or something. He used to tell me all of these stories.…”

“Like what?”

Angus shook his head. “Sorry, dude, it was a long time ago. But maybe my grandmother remembers.”

“Could we go talk to her tomorrow?”

Will knew that he must have sounded pretty desperate, because Angus was giving him a concerned look. “Sure, man. Whatever you want.”

“Maybe in the morning, before I have to work.”

“What am I going to do with this?” Ansell asked, watching Kirk sleep peacefully on the sand.

“Call his sister,” Angus suggested. “She’s used to cleaning up Kirk’s messes.”

“If I see a single word of this in the paper tomorrow …,” Ansell warned.

“You’ll what?” Angus smirked. “Buy a copy for your parents?”

“Please don’t do this to me.”

Angus looked offended. “Dude—what kind of a guy do you think I am?”

“Thanks, man.” Ansell walked back toward the pier.

“Seriously, you’re not running the story?” Will asked as he and Angus headed toward the parking lot. Will was not looking forward to riding home all wet on his motorcycle.

“Of
course
I’m doing a story,” Angus replied. He grinned. “Dude—what kind of a guy do you think I am? By the way, I looked into that thing.”

“What thing? You mean Asia?”

“Yeah—I dug around a little.”

“What did you find out?”

“I found out that she’s a total black hole.” Angus carefully unlocked the door of his rusted old Ford. This was the kind of thing that always used to crack Tim up—Angus locking his crappy old car when it was
surrounded by Audis, Jaguars, Lexuses, Porsches. “The only thing I found out about Asia Marin is that she worked at Bella’s last summer and came back this year. No known address. No phone number. No school records, dude.”

“What about the Joyce family?” Will had e-mailed Angus the information he’d gotten from following Asia.

“They’re from the city. Fischer and Julia. They have two kids, both in their thirties. Neither one named Asia.”

“So—what does that mean?”

Angus shrugged. “It means that she’s house-sitting. It means she’s from somewhere else and comes here for the summer. No big mystery, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “No big mystery.” But he couldn’t keep the irony out of his voice.

Angus folded himself into his tiny car and waved before driving off. Will had just started toward his motorcycle when a movement caught his eye. It was a figure in white—Asia. She was at the far end of the driveway, walking away from the party at a rapid clip. Her dress was still damp and clung to her body, although it was dry enough so that the skirt fluttered at her ankles.

BOOK: Siren's Storm
4.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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