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Authors: Lisa Papademetriou

BOOK: Siren's Storm
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“Stop reading my mind.”

“It’s your face I’m reading.”

Will smiled a dry little smile and stood up. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Where?”

“Downtown.”

“Just wait a few minutes,” Gretchen said as she slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops. “I’ll come with you.”

Will didn’t really want her with him. He needed to talk to Asia, not Gretchen. But how was he supposed to say no? He was starting to worry about Gretchen. The sleepwalking wasn’t a good sign. And he didn’t know what to make of the correspondence he’d seen between Gretchen and her mother. Gretchen’s mother lived in France and they didn’t talk much. Will remembered her. She was petite, almost child-sized, with blond hair and very fine features. She was slender and had an elegant bearing. She never wore fancy clothes or even makeup, but a beautiful smell always hung around her, which Will realized now must have been expensive perfume. She was not a warm person, and Will had always been half afraid of her, even though she had never spoken a sharp word to him.

One summer, Gretchen and Johnny had come out during August. Yvonne wasn’t with them. When Will asked where Gretchen’s mother was, she replied in the sagacious way of an eleven-year-old, “She doesn’t live with us anymore.” As if she were a stray cat that had moved on. Gretchen had hardly ever mentioned Yvonne after that. Sometimes Will even forgot that Gretchen had a mother at all.

“Why are we here?” Gretchen asked as she parked the Gremlin in front of the upscale vintage store that sold ostrich leather boots for $300 and hand-beaded gowns for close to $1,000. For used clothes! Will couldn’t believe it the first time he’d gone in there. The prices had appalled him. It was closed now, the usual porch display gathered up and dragged inside to keep thieves from stealing the valuable cast-offs.

“We’re here because I need to talk to somebody.”

“Somebody specific? Or just anybody?”

“Somebody specific.”

“Somebody we might find at a diner?”

Will looked at her sharply. Gretchen had turned to face him. She was leaning back against the car door in an elaborately casual pose, as if she were seated in a comfortable easy chair. Yet her body looked tense.

“What makes you say that?” Will asked.

“I don’t know. But I’m right—right?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to Asia.”

“Why?”

Will sighed. “I’m not really sure yet.” He yanked the door handle and stepped out onto the brick walkway. Gretchen scrambled after him, and they started up the street toward the diner. When they turned the corner, they found a very weird scene. There was a crowd clustered in front of Sebastian’s, an upscale bar. For a moment Will assumed that everyone was there for the club scene, but then he realized that they weren’t gathered outside the door. They were gathered near the curb. And they were looking up—into a large
purple-leafed maple at the curb, illuminated in an eerie glow by the light of a street lamp.

“Oh, Jesus,” Gretchen breathed. “It’s that crazy kid.”

A branch shook, and Will spotted Kirk clinging to the trunk with one arm and gesturing wildly with the other. “We’re all born angels!” Kirk cried as they stepped forward. “But we lose the wings. We lose the wings, and how can we fly when we don’t know our own depths?” Suddenly his eyes lit on Gretchen. “Did you get the picture? Did you see it?”

Will looked at Gretchen, who was standing stock-still.

“Did you see the truth in it? You can hear them, too. I know you’re one who can hear them as well as I can.” Kirk’s eyes were wild, and for a moment Will feared that he might leap out of the tree, like an animal. He put a protective arm around Gretchen, and Kirk let out a scream. “Don’t touch her!”

A siren wailed as Will steered Gretchen away from the scene. A police car pulled up, casting red and blue shadows across faces. A uniformed officer stepped out of the car, along with Kirk’s sister, Adelaide. She was a stern-faced young woman with the perfectly coiffed hair of a professional stylist. Adelaide looked like she wanted to apologize to everyone personally and then go home and quietly die of shame. Will cast a sympathetic look over his shoulder. Kirk was shouting something else about angels now, and his voice had reached a fevered pitch. Will felt as if something had crawled into his stomach and was hastily
constructing a nest there. He felt sick and shaky.
What’s happening to that kid?

Will could feel Gretchen trembling beneath his arm. “What was he talking about?” Will asked.

“I have no idea,” Gretchen said. She had always been the world’s worst liar, but Will didn’t press her. “I’m going in here,” she announced suddenly as they neared a candy store. “I need some chocolate.” She took the top step and looked back over her shoulder, long blond hair flying. “You coming?”

“I’ll wait out here,” Will said.

Gretchen disappeared inside, and Will leaned against the glass. He folded his arms across his chest and settled in for a long wait. Gretchen could be a bit of a candy freak, and she liked to get one each of many different kinds. She always took her time selecting things, and it drove Will crazy. Besides, candy on an empty stomach would make him sick. He was already feeling pretty borderline.

And that was when he spotted her. Asia was across the street, watching Adelaide coax Kirk down from the tree. He stepped forward to say her name, but she noticed him then. She turned and began walking away.

“Hey,” Will called as he jogged after her. “Hey!”

Asia stopped, but she didn’t turn around. Will caught up to her. He looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment. She cocked her head.

“What are you looking for?” Asia asked.

“What are you?”

She scoffed. “What do you think I am?” Her voice was a challenge.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Asia pushed past him. He hesitated. That conversation hadn’t gone according to plan. He knew that he wasn’t handling this situation properly, but he had no idea how he was supposed to be handling it. He wasn’t even sure what the situation
was
. “Asia, wait.” Will reached out and grabbed her arm, and it sent a shock wave up his arm. He cried out in pain.

Asia stood stock-still as Will gaped at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. She reached out for him, but he drew back from her touch. “It won’t hurt,” she promised, and she gave his arm a brisk massage. Slowly it came back to life.

“What the hell was that?”

“It’s just something I can do … when I feel threatened. I don’t always do it on purpose.”

“Like an electric eel or something?”

Asia sighed. “Will, I have a great deal to explain to you,” she said.

“Um, yeah,” Will agreed. “Look, I know you’re a mermaid … seekrieger … thing, so why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? All I want is a little clarity.”

She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny,” she said at last. “Nothing.”

Will waited as she stared at the stars overhead.

“I have a story to tell you,” Asia said at last. Her voice was like a thin vapor, a fine mist dissolving on the air. “It’s a long story.”

“Will it clear anything up? Or will it just leave my head feeling like it’s going to explode?”

“Both, maybe,” Asia admitted.

Will touched her hair, brushing it away from her face. It trailed over his fingers like black ink.

“Just tell me.”

“Yes, but not here,” she said. “Then where?”

“Meet me at the library tomorrow morning.”

“I can’t. I have to go to work.”

“Then meet me there tomorrow evening. Six?”

“Okay, but you’ll be there, right? I don’t want you ditching me.”

Laughter sparkled in her eyes. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“What?”

“I’m not like you humans, Will. I can’t lie. That’s why I don’t talk very much.” She stood and brushed the sand from her long maroon dress. “You’ll hear the truth, but I can’t promise that you’ll like it.”

The next morning, Will and his father ate breakfast in their usual tense silence. When Mr. Archer was finished, he took his plate to the sink and headed toward the door. He nearly ran into Angus, who was on his way up the steps. “Hey, Mr. Archer.”

Will’s father nodded at him and kept walking.

“Wow, your dad’s cheery this morning,” Angus said as he scrambled inside and stuffed his long legs under the table in the seat next to Will’s. “Dude, are you going to finish that?” He pointed to Will’s scone.

“Yes.”

Unfazed, Angus plucked the remnants of Will’s
father’s toast from his plate and started smearing pear jam on it. “Your mom makes the best stuff.”

“Why are you here?”

“What’s wrong with everyone this morning?” Angus demanded. “What happened to ‘Hey, Angus, great to see you’?”

“Great to see you. Why are you here?”

“Something freaky happened. I kind of wanted to tell Gretchen, but I’m not sure how.”

“What?”

“You remember Jason Detenber?”

“That asshole,” Will said.

“Don’t say that too loud,” Angus advised.

“Why not?”

“He’s dead.”

“What?” Will felt sick. His throat constricted, making it hard to breathe.

“Well, he’s disappeared,” Angus admitted. “My guess is he’s fish food.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Remember that white jacket he had? I saw it at the police station. Only it wasn’t too white anymore, if you know what I mean.” He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully at Will. “It was in an evidence bag. But nobody was saying anything. Not
anything
. I mean, guys who can’t help talking were suddenly like clams. They didn’t even want to say hi to me. I think my uncle scared them silent. But Jason’s family is rich. The truth is going to have to come out, sooner or later.”

The image of Jason and Asia on the bridge flashed into Will’s mind. The way he had moved toward her
threateningly. The way she’d twisted backward and flipped into the water. Jason’s horror. Asia’s watchful face, her eyes upturned from the water. Had she marked Jason for death at that very moment? Had he sealed his own fate, like the sailors in the journal?

But Will didn’t say any of this to Angus.

“Gretchen’s gonna freak,” Angus noted.

“Yeah,” Will agreed.

“You wanna tell her?” Angus asked hopefully.

The knot in Will’s stomach tightened at the thought of facing Gretchen with news like that. “No, I really don’t,” he admitted.

“But you will,” Angus said.

“Do I have a choice?”

“You’re a good man,” Angus told him.

“Not really.”

Angus sighed. “Okay. I mean, maybe he’s okay. It’s not like anyone really knows what happened, right?”

Just one person
, Will thought. But what he said was, “Right.”

“Oh, hey—and guess who’s in rehab?” Angus tipped back in his chair, stretching his long legs under the table.

“Is this person a celebrity?”

“Just a local one. Kirk Worstler.”

“Seriously? Where’d they get the money?”

“Word is Adelaide finally called the grandparents. They’ve got him locked up in some fancy place in Hampton Bays.” Angus stood up and helped himself to some fresh coffee.

“Listen, speaking of Kirk, it seems that he left a
gift in Gretchen’s room.” Will explained about the painting.

“Oh, shit. Okay, I’ll call Uncle Barry. He’ll get it taken care of.” Angus shook his head. “That poor kid. I’ll bet the Miller won’t even press charges.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

Angus held out his fist for a pound. “We gotta stick together.”

“Sure.”

“Sure? Just—you know, ‘sure’? Man, how about some enthusiasm?”

Will managed a smile. “We gotta stick together,” he said.

When Johnny came to the door, he told Will that Gretchen was upstairs in her room and said Will should head on up. Will took the steps slowly, dreading the moment when he would have to deliver the news. But when he pushed her door open gently, he saw that the room was empty. The normal chaos was unusually tidy—the bed was made and the large painting was spread out over it. Will stared down at the image of the fierce bird-women on the rocks in the distance. Their expression made his heart splutter, starting and stopping in frantic motion. He completely understood why it gave Gretchen the creeps. He wondered what Kirk had been thinking when he left it for her. He was glad the kid was finally in rehab. For Kirk’s own safety—and everyone else’s.

A movement caught Will’s eye, and he looked out of Gretchen’s window. There was the green bluff, and
beyond it, the blue-gray sea. A figure in green stood at the edge of the bluff, long blond hair sweeping down her back. Gretchen was looking out to sea like a sailor’s wife, waiting for her husband’s safe return.

Will hurried down the stairs and out the door. His legs ached as he climbed the bluff. A lonely seagull cried overhead. Finally Gretchen came into view, and Will slowed as he got near her. He didn’t want to frighten her.

Gretchen didn’t turn around. “Jason’s dead,” she said. Her voice was heavy, and it was weary.

“How did you—?”

“Do you think that there’s anything to what Kirk was saying?” Gretchen asked. She gazed out at the distant horizon, a faraway look on her face. “About angels?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted.

“I wonder what it’s like.”

“What?”

“Being dead.”

Will shrugged. “It’s like being asleep.”

“Sleep without dreams.” A gentle breeze lifted a lock of her hair. She had added colorful strands to the blond. With the blue and green streaks, she looked like a storybook mermaid.

“Yeah.”

“How do you know?” Gretchen asked.

“I don’t. It’s just what I think.”

“I don’t think that’s what it’s like,” Gretchen said. She seemed on the verge of saying something else,
as if the words were like bits of mist assembling into clouds in her mind. There was a long beat of silence as Will waited for her to go on. “Sometimes I think I can hear them,” she said at last.

“Dead people?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Will studied her profile, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, how pale her skin seemed beneath the light kiss of sun across her nose. He’d always thought of her as walking sunshine, but now the light within her seemed dim. Very dim. “Have you been sleeping?” he asked her.

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