Bluedawn (A Watermagic Novel, #2)

by Brighton Hill

  Copyright © 2013 by Brighton Hill

  Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Bluedawn

  A Watermagic Novel

  Brighton Hill

  ~ Dreamspot Publishing, Inc. ~

  Part 1

  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.

  “It’s almost dinner time. I thought I’d take you guys to that fish and chips restaurant by the wharf.”

  Mom’s blue eyes lit up. She loved seafood, especially raw. “That sounds fantastic.” She blushed a little.

  Dad ran his fingers through his brown shaggy hair. “I’ll get the car ready.” His voice sounded a little grumpy.

  “Why don’t we find some wood for the fire pit so we don’t have to get it later?” I suggested to Mom.

  She laughed. “Hope I don’t break a nail.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you do, I’ll super glue it back on.” My voice was sarcastic.

  “Oh, please,” she snorted as she examined the glitter polish on her naturally long nails.

  After we walked outside and examined the campsite, Dad unhitched the car, while Mom and I gathered sticks and branches in the forest behind the campsite for the fire pit. Even though it was still light outside, the woods were dim and eerie. There were some used cigarette butts on the ground and a man’s wallet.

  My eyes widened. “Look at this.” I motioned Mom over to me.

  She sort of sauntered over with her tote bag filled with sticks. “What is it, chérie?” She looked distracted. Her eyes were directed upwards looking into the high reaches of an oak tree.

  “No not up there—here.” I pointed at the ground.

  Glancing down, she picked up the wallet absent mindedly. “A man’s wallet, Hailes. What’s the big deal? You look frightened.”

  I bit the side of my cheek. “It just looks like someone was hanging around in here and left in a rush.”

  She opened the wallet and looked through it. Her eyes narrowed. “Fifty four dollars and a golf pass.”

  “Is there an I.D.?”

  “No.” She shook her head and glanced around. “Look over there.”

  I followed the direction of her pointer finger to a boulder several feet away. “Oh!”

  We both walked over to the large rock.

  “A Peter Segal bikini top!” Mom picked a garment up off the boulder by her nail. Her jaw was clenched and her nostrils flared.

  “There’s blood on it,” I said in a whisper.

  She threw the thing down as if grossed out.

  I examined the boulder more closely and saw wet blood that had splattered against the other side of the rock.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mom mumbled as she examined it. “Some girl probably just had her period.”

  I scoffed and then shook my head. “And splattered it against a rock?”

  “Did you hear that?” I asked suddenly.

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  My body tensed. “Whispers.” I looked around through the trees.

  “No. I didn’t hear anything.” Her thoughts seemed distant. And then in the dim light of the forest she started to sing softly. It was a gentle lullaby and under the circumstances totally out of place. Though I could never figure her out entirely, I think she sang like that to calm herself or maybe to calm me.

  Even though I was used to her unusual behaviors, I found myself lost in her melody. The sounds were so soft and entrancing. For a moment, I felt like I was floating in the clouds.

&nb
sp; When she stopped singing, I felt suddenly irritated. “Let’s go,” I snapped as I pulled Mom by the arm.

  She looked agitated now too as I led her through the trees back to the camp.

  Dad turned to us with a wrench in his hand. “The car is ready to go,” he said in a proud voice. A wind coming off the ocean was blowing through his shaggy brown hair.

  “We found a wallet in the woods and Hailey is going bonkers,” Mom sang the words teasingly.

  “Where’s the money?” Dad chuckled as he walked over to the picnic table to set his wrench down.

  Now Mom smiled playfully. “There was fifty four dollars in it.” Her hand was on one hip.

  Then a thought struck me. “Where is it?” I demanded as I glanced at the tote bag of sticks that rested over her shoulder.

  “Oops,” she rolled her eyes. “I dropped it.”

  I got the feeling she left it in the forest on purpose.

  “We could use that money for dinner,” Dad joked. “Especially with the way you eat, Jo.”

  I ignored his play. “We should at least return it to the park ranger,” I said sternly. “Somebody could be looking for it. Maybe even the police.”

  “I’ll go back and get it,” Mom suggested.

  My eyes widened. “No way!”

  Dad was shaking his head now. “Women and their dramatics.” He liked to play the chauvinist to get us riled. But this time we hardly paid attention. “I’ll get it.”

  “No, Dad. Stay here.” I looked at him, but he was already stepping into the woods.

  I chased after him. “It’s over by that boulder,” I said pointing through the trees.

  “I don’t see anything,” He murmured as he looked around on the ground.

  “That’s strange. It’s not here.” I looked over by the rock. “There was a bikini top here too, but it’s gone.” Dirt covered the blood on the boulder now as if someone had taken a handful from the ground and thrown it against the wetness to hide the mess.

  I walked back over to where we saw the cigarette butts, but they were gone too. “This is so weird, Dad.”

  “What are you upset about?” he asked.