Silver Smoke (#1 of Seven Halos Series)

by Monica O'Brien

  Brie glared, annoyed by Clara's condescending tone. "You know what I meant. Replace 'vampires' with anything. Unicorns. Are unicorns anatomically impossible too?"

  No, those are anatomically improbable." The whites in Clara's eyes took over as she rolled them back into her head. "It's a horse with a horn."

  Brie imagined Clara's pupils staring at the innards of her skull, and stifled a giggle.

  "Are you two done?" Thessa asked. She looked at Brie. "The story is real." Sirena coughed, folding her arms across her chest. "Or, at least it's what most of us believe," Thessa said, glancing at Sirena.

  "The story is what's written in our history," Sirena said pointedly, addressing only Brie. "It's as real to us as the stories of the gods were to the Romans."

  Clara's mouth twisted into a cross between a snarl and a pout. "Don't listen to her. The story is real. There's plenty physical evidence to support the history of Hallow and Nephilim beginnings."

  Sirena opened her mouth, but Thessa interjected loudly. "Regardless of whether the details of our beginnings are accurate, Brie, the Hallows are a real superhuman race with real powers that can be dangerous, to both you and others. This is serious. I don't know why Milena kept your true nature a secret from us, but it probably means we're all at risk."

  "What I don't understand still is how she's a Hallow," Cora said, looking at Brie.

  "Well, Milena was a daughter of Michael," Clara said, "and Michael's blood is dominant. It's possible that Michael's blood stayed dominant even when she married a human. It left Pilot an earthlie for obvious reasons, but when Brie came along—"

  "But in general, Hallow blood isn't dominant over earthlies," Cora said. "To get a Hallow, you need both parents to have angel blood."

  "Maybe James had a touch of angel blood too," Sirena said. "That's common for celebrities. Milena must not have known Brie would become a Hallow. She would have told me if she knew."

  Cora winced, her jaw clamping. Thessa and Clara both looked at the ground.

  Brie took the silence as an opportunity to get her questions answered. "My mother was the daughter of Michael. What does that mean?"

  "It means she's a descendant of the Archangel Michael's bloodline," Thessa said, avoiding Sirena's gaze. "But Brie, your safety is compromised. We don't have time for questions. Until we figure out what happened, we need you to do exactly as we tell you."

  Brie crossed her arms in defiance. "I want answers to my questions first."

  "You'll get answers in time," Thessa said. "But right now we need a plan to hide you."

  "I want answers now," Brie insisted. She gestured to their surroundings. "I don't see any eminent danger or death threats, and I can sit here all day. I don't need to go to class."

  "No." Thessa's tone was firm. "This is not negotiable. You will do what we say."

  Brie shoved her purse onto the bench. "Why should I trust you if you won't answer my questions?"

  Clara huffed. "Because if you don't, you will get yourself and your entire family killed, not to mention Sirena, who is technically your aunt. Is that a good enough reason?"

  "My aunt!" Brie exclaimed, looking at Sirena in horror.

  There was silence for a second, before Clara laughed. "Close your mouth. It's unattractive."

  Brie scowled, clamping her teeth together.

  Clara's eyes gleamed. "Your lips are too wide to create a comical jaw drop anyway. If that's what you were going for."

  "It wasn't." Brie was determined not to let Clara distract her. She looked at Sirena. "So you're my aunt? Explain how you're my aunt."

  No one answered right away. Thessa, Clara, and Cora deferred to Sirena, who was rubbing her fingers together nervously. Sirena looked up to see four expectant faces. "Alright, I'll tell her." She sighed.

  "The reason you got me confused with Milena this morning is because we are fraternal twins. Our eyes are the most noticeable similarity. Milena is my older sister by a few minutes."

  "You knew my mom then. She was your sister." It wasn't a question. Brie sat back down, almost falling into the bench this time.

  "Yes. I know it's weird that your closest friend in Honolulu is your aunt. I was supposed to keep my distance from you and protect you from afar. I couldn't stay away though—you're so much like her."

  Sirena stood up. "I should probably explain who we are. Milena and I are the last remaining descendants of a family of women who ruled the Hallows through Michael's divinity. Our family was overthrown in the 1920's by a group of mixed bloods that wanted to run the Hallows' government as a democracy rather than a monarchy.

  "Thessa rescued us during the first revolt and hid us. The New Order—a faction of resentful Hallows—

  meant to kill Michael's bloodline for good. I lived on a small island in the Pacific, while Milena grew up in New York City. By the time I found her, she had already met James.

  "I was so angry when Milena got married. We had recently met, and she was turning her back on the Hallows and her family's legacy. On their wedding day, we severed communication for our safety, aside from forming a plan to keep her children and husband safe if anything ever happened to her."

  Sirena took a deep breath and looked expectantly at Brie. Eventually, after steadying her nerves, Brie said, "The 1920's? Wow, you're old."

  The three cheerleaders laughed. Even Sirena smiled. "Thanks. I look pretty good for my age though."

  "Why did my mom get older and you didn't if you were born only a few minutes apart?"

  "All Hallows remain young and immortal until we have our allotted two children. The process of having children ages us naturally, and our children replace us when we die."

  Brie felt a stab in her chest. Milena had always claimed to be an only child with dead parents, but she wasn't. Brie had a family outside of Pilot. She looked at Sirena. "I have so many questions for you."

  "Brie," Thessa said gently, "we have kept Sirena and Milena safe from the New Order. They've remained unregistered and undetected for almost 100 years now. You will have to do the same, if you want to protect yourself and Sirena, Pilot, and even James. They will kill you all if they find out your family survived because it threatens the New Order's existence."

  "We're running out of time," Clara blurted out. "We need a plan." She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her cheerleading bag. Then, she unzipped it and pulled out a necklace. The necklace was a ring encrusted with black stones and knotted into a matching chain.

  "Wear this," Clara said, passing the necklace to Brie.

  Brie shuddered, clamping her hands together in her lap. "Did you just do some crazy superpower thing to make that?"

  Clara tilted her head forward and fluttered her eyelashes in annoyance. "Of course not. It was in my bag."

  "Liar."

  "Just take it," Clara said, forcing the necklace into Brie's hands.

  Brie held it up. "This is beautiful," she said reluctantly. The stones weighed down on her as she held the necklace against the line of buttons down her shirt. "And it matches my outfit."

  "It's not a fashion statement," Clara said impatiently. "This necklace stifles your Hallow powers.

  If you really are an innate, you can use them accidentally without even knowing it."

  "What is an innate?" Brie asked.

  "A Hallow with heightened powers," Sirena explained. "One who can innately understand and use his or her powers without much training. Innates are special in the Hallow world, because they are one with our origins. Sometimes they invent new magic."

  "So this morning when I yelled 'stop'..." Brie remembered the way Sirena was pitched face-first over her Vespa.

  "You spoke 'stop' in ancient Greek," Sirena explained, "which is what caused me to stop. Greek is the natural Hallow language. Speaking is not necessary to use Hallow powers, but speaking out loud, especially in our original tongue, amplifies whatever it is you're trying to do."

  Brie nodded; she didn't want to think about what could have happened if a paparazz
o had captured that moment on camera. She slipped the necklace over her head, letting the ring of stones settle in the middle of her chest.

  "Speaking of powers, we'll have to find time to train you also," Sirena said. "You spend way too much time in the earthlie media and we can't afford to have you lose control in front of them."

  "Yes, training. We need an excuse for you to spend more time with us," Thessa decided. She turned to Clara expectantly, who placed her hands over her cheerleading bag again. A minute later, she pulled out two articles of clothing and handed them to Brie.

  Sirena gasped; Cora just laughed.

  "You have got to be kidding me." Brie held up a Punahou cheerleader uniform. "What's next, Mary Poppins? A mirror and a coat rack?"

  Clara smirked. "You would love another mirror, wouldn't you Brie?"

  "Can you two shut up?" Cora asked. Brie and Clara looked at her in surprise. From what Brie knew about her, she guessed that Cora rarely used phrases like "shut up." Cora put her hand on her forehead, rubbing her eyebrows. "I'm sorry. It's just that I can feel every emotion that passes through the two of you."

  Sirena's eyes were on Thessa. "I want to be part of the training too."

  The twins cringed in unison. But Thessa tilted her head and said, "Yes, that seems appropriate. You are Brie's guardian, after all." Clara looked at Thessa in surprise, but didn't question her.

  Cora stood up. "We should go to class." Cora looked like she was ready for the meeting to be over.

  "Wait. I have one more question." Brie turned to Sirena. "That thing I did earlier, throwing you off your bike—that was something you can teach me to control?"

  "Yes," Sirena said, looking animated for the first time during the whole conversation. Brie wondered if it had anything to do with Thessa letting her in on the training. "But for now, we really need you to go to class. People notice when you're absent. You're famous, remember?"

  Clara's eyes flickered with annoyance. Sirena winked at Brie, a teasing grin dancing on her lips.

  "Let's go," Thessa said, getting up and collecting her things. The other girls packed their things too. "And Brie, you start... cheerleading... tomorrow after school."

  Brie bobbed her head, putting on the perkiest face she could muster. "Go Team Hallow."

  *****

  The walls of the small classroom reminded him of stale bread, and the room reeked of bleach. But that wasn't why Rykken hated his English class. He hated it mostly because of her. There were only sixteen students in the class, and Brie had shown up late on the first day. He remembered the teacher scanning the classroom and identifying the seat next to him as the only available seat left. Rykken's heart pounded. Four years of watching Brie from afar had culminated into one serendipitous moment where he finally had the excuse to talk to her outside of Pilot's peripheral.

  He had smiled and opened his mouth to say hi, but Brie slunk into her seat dejectedly, completely ignoring him as she pulled out a notebook. Deflated, he followed her cue and didn't talk to her at all during the entire period. A few days later, Brie said something to him—something to the effect of an apology for not recognizing him on the first day— but the damage had already been done, and her real message rang loud and clear. Rykken might as well have been invisible to her.

  They hadn't talked since, aside from the occasional niceties when Pilot was around. But today they were starting the project portion of the class and naturally, partners were assigned based on the seating arrangement.

  The bell rang. Brie continued to scribble in her notebook, and Rykken had to snap his fingers to get her attention.

  Brie jumped, covering her notebook with her arm. "When do you want to meet this week?" he asked her.

  She stuffed the notebook into her purse hastily. "After your usual polo practice works." She tugged at the zipper but the purse was clearly full, and the ornate necklace she wore kept getting stuck in the closure. Finally, she tossed the purse onto her shoulder, clamping her elbow to the side of the purse to keep it shut. He wondered what she didn't want him to see.

  "Do you want to set a particular day? We probably need to map out—"

  "No. Let's play it by ear." Brie ducked her head, her eyes drifting to one of the classroom windows.

  "Um. Okay." Great conversation. Glad we worked out the details. Rykken rubbed his jaw and stood up.

  He couldn't wait to get out of the humid classroom.

  "Rykken, wait." Rykken turned so quickly he almost knocked a girl over with his backpack. Brie took a deep breath, wringing her hands together. "I need your advice about something."

  "What?" He coughed, trying to clear his throat, which had suddenly developed an unattractive scratchy tone. Brie never asked for his advice. She never even talked to him.

  Brie twirled a piece of her long, wavy hair between her skinny fingers. "First, promise you won't tell Pilot."

  Rykken examined Brie carefully. "That serious, huh?" His mind raced with the worst possible scenarios, like Brie had an eating disorder. She did seem skinnier than normal—maybe Pilot was right that she was depressed. Rykken didn't think he could keep an eating disorder secret from Pilot.

  "No, it's not that serious," Brie said. "It's just that Pilot has enough to worry about." Rykken breathed in. This was the first time he had seen Brie so somber and self-aware. Maybe she did see how her actions affected her brother—how much pressure Pilot felt to keep her under control.

  Rykken tilted his head toward her. "I won't disagree with that," he said softly. "But I can't lie to Pilot."

  "You don't have to lie," Brie said in an exasperated tone. "Just don't mention this conversation to him." Brie looked around; she seemed uncomfortable.

  The severity of her body movements cleared Rykken's mind. "I wouldn't. Besides, if your secret is really that interesting, he'll find out on television."

  Brie's face fell. Rykken's gratification lasted only a few seconds before it turned to guilt.

  "Please," she said, her eyes focused on something at the front of the room. "I don't have anyone to talk to." Her gaze shifted to the floor. "Pilot trusts you, and I trust Pilot."

  Rykken nodded, mostly for his own benefit since she couldn't seem to meet his eyes. "Trustworthy by proxy."

  She bit the edge of her lip, her mouth parted slightly in the middle. "I didn't mean it like that."

  Rykken looked away. It annoyed him that the more he hurt her, the worse he felt. "Look. I promise I won't tell Pilot. What's going on?"

  Brie's voice dropped to a whisper. "You've lived here your whole life and grown up with most of the girls at this school, right? You would know their personalities and whether I could trust them or not."

  Rykken tried not to let his surprise show on his face. "Is someone bothering you?"

  "No, no—I just—" Brie inhaled sharply. "Living in the spotlight," she said. "I've had friends that were using me and I need to know...."

  Brie scraped at the chipped nail polish on her index finger. Rykken waited for her to finish her sentence, but her jaw was set.

  "Who?" he asked.

  "Sirena," Brie said. "And three other girls—Thessa, Clara, and Cora. Actually, what am I thinking?

  You wouldn't even know Sirena." Brie laughed a little. "She moved here right before we did."

  Rykken felt sorry for Brie. "I thought Sirena was your friend."

  Brie looked at him, finally meeting his eyes. "Me too."

  Rykken thought about her question, getting momentarily lost in the pearly green pools of Brie's eyes. He felt a slight urge to comfort her; then he remembered that the only reason she was talking to him was because she wanted information. "You can trust Cora," he said. "I don't know the other girls that well, but Cora wouldn't lie to you."

  Brie exhaled. "Thank you. That really helps." She adjusted the straps of her large purse on her shoulder and squeezed his forearm lightly as she made her way to the exit. Rykken's hand automatically went to his arm, where the tingling sensation of her touch lingered.

/>   When he looked up again, Brie was standing in the door frame. "I'm sorry if I've done something to upset you," she said quickly, her words rushing out of her like a freight train. Rykken said nothing as his emotions twisted over how to reply.

  "Okay, then," she said quietly. "I guess I'll see you after school." She left the room, leaving him dazed and silent, staring out into the hall after her.

  *****

  "What are you doing?" Clara whispered to Thessa. They were hiding out in a small corner of the school library, skipping class again. Of course, they rarely ever went to class; their enrollment at Punahou was just a ruse, a way to act like they were contributing to the New Order's cause. "We're supposed to be laying low," Clara continued. "First you let Sirena into our lives, and now you want to help with Brie? I know you feel guilty, but this has to stop."

  Thessa groaned. She knew Clara was right—the whole reason they had moved to Honolulu was to escape the power-hungry politics of the New Order. Back when Barcelona was controlled by the monarchy, the Hallows focused on the smaller picture—intimate communities, one-on-one conversations, grassroots movements in the eastern hemisphere. When the New Order took over, they set their sights on America—and more importantly, on controlling it.

  Strategically, it was a sound move for a group of people trying to influence the masses. After all, America was becoming a superpower at the time, and even if they hadn't been, the Nephilim were attempting the same thing. Hallows were sent to America to create new systems of power and infiltrate the systems of power already in place. The presidential election was the ultimate prize for the Hallows, but there were other areas to make a difference in besides politics—churches, sports, broadcasting, music, writing, and speaking.

  Thessa took a deep breath. "The New Order won't find out. We can contain this."

  Clara cast a withering gaze in Thessa's direction. "Sirena, sure. But Brie attracts too much media attention and you know it."

  Again, Thessa agreed, but she knew saying so wouldn't help with Clara. The coverage about Milena van Rossum's death had been relentless, but Brie had gotten her share of coverage too. The press was fascinated with the young teenager, perhaps because she was a miniature version of her beloved mother; but also because she had celebrity appeal, the type that people couldn't explain—a star quality that was all Brie's own.