Silver Smoke (#1 of Seven Halos Series) (31 page)

Brie felt stupid. What was she thinking? This was Pilot's best friend—he probably saw her like a little sister, nothing more.

"What's your plan once we get to the airport?" he asked.

Brie felt a pain in her chest as she slowly shifted gears in her thoughts. "Get you safely on a plane I guess," she said. "Find internet access and figure out where the boat is. Meet them at the next port."

Then she thought of something. "Do you have Sirena's number in your phone?"

"I didn't save it," he said regretfully. "But I have Clara's."

Brie took the phone from him silently, dreading what she had to do next.

"Rykken, where are you?" an angry Clara said into the phone. "Brie's missing and James and Pilot are on a coast guard boat, searching for her. Sirena's searching underwater and I need you to go—"

"It's me." Brie took a deep breath, bracing herself.

There was a short pause, then a string of deafening obscenities that Brie couldn't quite decipher.

Finally, Clara said something comprehensible. "Both of you get on the next flight to Honolulu. I'll be there to pick you up at the airport."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"So James and Brie got into a fight about something, but you don't know what?"

Pilot shifted in the hammock behind his house, trying to find a position where the palm trees blocked the rising sun. The pool twinkled and sparkled under the sunlight, calm and undisturbed. There wasn't a breeze, but the air was cool and comfortable. His backyard felt like a beach resort—the only thing missing was a guy on ukulele and some hot girls in coconut bras.

He slipped his arm around the waist of the girl next to him, burying his nose in her wet, lily-white hair. "Yep."

"And then Brie was so upset, she decided to risk her life to get away from your dad, so she jumped off the boat, thinking she was a good enough swimmer to make it back to land."

"Yeah..." Pilot's hollow laugh had a twinge of contempt. "Stupid."

"Local fishermen found her and gave her a ride to the shore, and she somehow got to the airport and flew back to Honolulu."

"By taxi," Pilot corrected. "She took a taxi to the airport. It was a really expensive taxi bill. I think she paid more for the taxi driver's silence than the car was worth."

"Intriguing." Kennedy scooted closer to him, kissing his chest. "And
that's
why the paparazzi is swarming your house property, and you can't leave?"

"That about sums it up." Pilot tried to feel upset about Brie's idiocy, but he couldn't. She was safe.

And the night they'd gotten home, condemned to a different kind of isolation than the trappings of the yacht, Kennedy had called him to see if he wanted to meet up.

Kennedy strummed her fingers across his abdomen. "Your sister is selfish."

Pilot felt the muscles in Kennedy's face flex against his chest. He imagined Kennedy lips extending into a smirk. "This is coming from a girl who defies her own sister to spend time with me." He was teasing her, but he felt her body stiffen against his chest.

"She doesn't worry about me," Kennedy argued. "Plus, we aren't famous."

"Right," Pilot said, confused. But confusion was always a part of spending time with Kennedy. "By the way, how did you get in, given the aforementioned swarming paparazzi?"

She laughed, stroking his flexed forearm. "Those are some big words. What's the occasion?"

Pilot tried not to let Kennedy's circular responses vex him. "You're doing that thing again. You know, where you talk in circles and try to avoid my questions."

Kennedy pulled her damp hair into a side ponytail, holding it toward the sun. She turned over, facing away from him. "A magician never reveals her secrets, Pilot." She shot him a single, sexy pout.

"She should," Pilot whispered, laying back down next to her, leaving soft kisses on her now exposed shoulders and neck.

"You like me because I'm mysterious and challenging. You
think
you want to know my secrets." She adjusted her swimsuit top, untying it, leaving her neck bare. "If I told them to you, though, you wouldn't want me anymore."

"No, that couldn't happen, trust me." He thought of the night before, swimming in the moonlight with her, falling asleep together in a hammock under the stars. Kennedy was by far the sexiest girl he'd ever been with. Most girls from New York had been hot but ultimately insecure, and in a little over their own heads. Kennedy was different—she was confident in every movement, so sure that everything she did would be exactly what he liked and wanted.

"How about one secret?" he asked, stroking her neck.

"What do you want to know?"

"I'm not saying." He let his fingers drift to her shoulder, down her arm to her elbow. "Not until you promise me that you'll answer the question."

She flipped her head around and kissed his lips. "Okay," she whispered into his mouth.

Pilot was surprised that she actually agreed.

"But to make it interesting," she continued, "you can't ask me anything you've asked about before."

Pilot beamed, happy that his question met her criteria. He traced the arc of her bare back, letting his fingers linger on her spine. She gave a soft sigh, barely audible except that he was so in tune with her he could hear her heartbeat. "This tattoo," he said, tracing the Gothic cross and angel wings in the center of her back. "What does it mean?"

Kennedy stiffened again. She rolled onto her back, pulling his hand away from the tattoo and placing it instead over her heart. Her corn-silk hair fell away from her body, revealing a skimpy swimsuit that barely covered her breasts. Pilot gulped; he couldn't pull his eyes away from her naked skin.

Kennedy considered him for a moment, flashing him a knowing smile as if she could read his thoughts. "It means nothing," she said finally. "Just a cool tattoo to get in a moment of rebellion." She pulled herself closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping one arm around his waist. He pushed her hair out of her face, stroking it gently and inhaling her sweet scent. Hibiscus.

"Are all rebellions named 'Silver Smoke,' or just your personal one?" he whispered into her hair.

She smiled, looking up. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that."

He kissed her forehead, the tops of her cheekbones, the tip of her nose. "Be honest with me. I can handle it."

"It's this group that I'm a part of. Sort of like a club." She kissed him lightly. "It's nothing." She kissed him again, this time a little deeper.

He pulled away. "Nothing my ass." People didn't tattoo 'nothing' on their backs, last time he checked. He put space between them, not letting her distract him with kisses. "And what's the purpose of this club of yours?"

She swallowed, her eyes shifting all over his face. "To protect a way of life. To stop injustice." She smiled again. "Good things, I promise."

"Does this club have to do with the mysterious company you work for as well?"

Her forehead creased and her brows dropped over her eyes. She traced the outline of his chest. "They are one in the same, actually." She spoke slowly, wincing. Or bracing herself for his reaction.

Dumbstruck, Pilot tried to interpret her revelation. He only knew it was difficult for her to be honest, and he didn't want to give her any reason to not be honest with him in the future.

Finally, he carved out a small, encouraging smile for her. "Can I join?"

She let loose the softest, sweetest laugh he had ever heard. "Believe me, I want nothing more than for you to be part of it. We only accept a certain... type of person though."

"What? Women?"

"No. There are men in Silver Smoke." She sat up. "Don't worry Pilot. If you really want to be in it, I'll find a way." She touched his shoulder lightly. "It's already in your blood." She absentmindedly traced over his broken skin with her fingers.

Pilot sat up next to her, winding his shoulder with a wince. He rubbed his hand on the raw patch where Kennedy had bitten him the night before, drawing the slightest amount of his blood with her teeth.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "It should heal in a couple days."

Pilot nodded. He had kind of liked it, to be honest.

"The trips you take to the mainland... do they have to do with Silver Smoke?"

"Usually."

Pilot's confusion thickened. "Is it a job or a club? I don't get it." It sounded more like a cult than an extracurricular to him.

"It's a movement. My older sister runs it, like I told you before. We don't need money, so we dedicate our lives to other things. Think of it as a non-profit, almost." Kennedy smiled at him again. "Can we talk about something else now? I kept my promise and shared a secret—probably the biggest secret I've ever shared in my life. We aren't supposed to tell anyone about Silver Smoke."

Pilot felt the truth in her words, but he wasn't quite ready to back down. "I'm worried you're in over your head in something."

"Relax." Kennedy pushed him firmly onto the hammock, gently catching his head in her palm. "I'm not your sister Pilot. I don't need you to watch over me."

"
I
need to watch over you. I need to be a part of whatever you are a part of." He reached for her waist, marveling at her tiny curves. "Kennedy," he whispered. The sunrise reflected off her hair and highlighted her skin, the light and dark of the two in stark contrast. "I'm falling in love with you."

He watched her face as he said the words. Her eyes flickered with surprise, then pain, then finally a softness he had never seen in her before.

She kissed him lightly, barely brushing his lips. "'Tis one thing to be tempted, Pilot, another thing to fall."

"So I shouldn't be falling in love with you?"

"I'm not complaining." Kennedy smiled. "It's just a Shakespeare quote."

He pulled her down into the hammock with him. "Brie reads Shakespeare." Kennedy snuggled into his chest, her chest rising and falling with his. "You would like her."

Kennedy pressed her lips to his skin. "Maybe."

He held her tighter. "Don't leave again," he begged.

"I'm not leaving the island yet. But I have to leave your house soon—your family will be up."

"They sleep late," Pilot said. "At least stay for breakfast. I can sneak into the house and make something for us."

"Okay." She pouted a little. "That's not what I'm hungry for though," she whispered. She pressed herself on top of him, pulling him into a gentle kiss.

His hands ran the length of her body as he kissed her deeper. "Okay, you win." He tugged at the strings of her bikini, unwinding them with his fingers. "No breakfast."

*****

"Thanks for not forcing me to join the cheer squad," Rykken said when Clara answered the door. He was at the two-story beach house right off of Kamioniole Highway that Clara, Thessa, and Cora shared. The exterior had clean lines, steps that fanned out leading to the entrance, and a panel of seven tall, rectangular windows in a row. The second floor railings looked like they belonged on a boat. There was a tree in the front yard that nurtured the type of tree house Rykken always dreamed of as a kid.

"Well, you aren't as important as Brie is," Clara replied, gesturing for him to come inside. She wore a trendy, printed shirt and lots of jewelry—the kind of clothes that get you noticed at a school like Punahou. He stepped into the house, taking in the white walls, snowy chenille furniture, and dark mahogany floors. "We have to watch her almost constantly."

"She's a handful," Rykken mused, chuckling. The house was quiet, and Rykken guessed the other girls weren't home. The living room smelled like chocolate and batter.

Clara stared at him, not finding his comment as amusing as he did. He knew Brie's erratic behavior wasn't a joke, but he understood what she was going through. She was trying to make everyone happy and accomplish something important; but to achieve that, she had to bury her pain. Like he did—like he had done most of his life.

He cleared his throat. "So what are we learning today?"

Clara rubbed her hands together, like she meant business. "How to deflect attacks on your mind." She paused."Well, for today, I'd be happy if you recognized an attack on your mind."

He took a seat on the couch across from her. "Your confidence in me is staggering."

"This isn't kindergarten Rykken. You have to earn your gold stars at the school of Clara."

He tried to smile, but he wasn't sure he could focus on mind attacks today, not when there were more pressing matters. "Shouldn't I be learning how to control transforming into a seal every time I'm submersed in water?"

Clara waved her hand in the air, dismissing his concern. "That should clear up in three or four weeks,"

she said. "You need to get used to it. The selkie family would toss their children in the ocean until they figured it out. They were usually gone for less than a month."

Rykken scowled impatiently. He didn't know when Brie was planning to leave to investigate her mother's death, but he guessed he didn't have a month. "Is there any way to speed the process up?"

"Don't know," Clara said. "There's no mention of it in the information I checked."

Rykken looked at Clara, feeling slightly sorry for her. Her wording made him realize she wasn't much of a problem-solver—her typical go-to solution was to look it up. He knew she was a human computer, but he wondered if she had always been like that, or had gotten lazy over the years.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"I'm not," he said, grinning. "Why would I?"

"Well, I know it's not because you're in love with me."

"Right." Rykken scrunched his nose. "That would be weird."

Clara smirked. "Okay Romeo, here are the rules. You'll think of an image, anything you want, and I'll try to upload a different image to your brain. We'll see if you can still remember what your original image was." She leaned back into the couch. "Here's a hint: the more vivid your image is, the easier it is to hold onto it."

"Got it," Rykken said.

"Also, no images that involve kissing or love or anything gross. This isn't like Never Never Land.

The goal is not to think happy thoughts, but to conjure the most intense, lifelike images you can."