Chapter 1

Breeze Aurora Mordecai stormed out of her front door and cringed as her left foot splashed into a muddy puddle. She paused briefly to shake some droplets from her jeans before hurrying on her way through the gentle rain. The gray clouds above the house rolled slowly and occasionally growled angrily. The street was silent with the exception of a single open window where music was playing.
It was another boring Saturday. Breeze was upset and annoyed; her expression reflected the weather. Her mum didn't want to listen to her and the house was a mess. She was sick of living there with her. Sometimes she wished she could be with her father. He had been announced missing three years ago and hadn't returned. Her mother decided he was dead and moved on to another man after two years. Breeze hated him; she hated the way he was, a slob, and the way he had changed her mother. He had turned her into a pig, just like him. They didn't seem to care about her at all.

As Breeze made her way down the street, her head down, she fought tears. She wouldn't believe that her dad was really gone for good. She couldn't replace him with James. Now this argument had taken place, she was almost certain about leaving home for good.
Her black hair whipped around her face when the wind picked up. The glacial rain stung her face and her breath, thick and misty, curled around her shoulders as she walked. Her finger tips tingled so she shoved them roughly into her pockets.
Breeze didn't even know where she was going. She was simply trudging along through the rain soaked street, a 15 year old holding a grudge that had lasted way too long. It took a while for an idea to come to her.
She looked at her watch. 4PM, just enough time to get there, she decided. A few moments later, shivering and dripping wet in the rain, she found herself on the doorstep of a familiar house. Quite hard, Breeze knocked her numb knuckles on the flaky paint of the door. There was a few second's pause before the door swung open with a creak and a tall, broad shouldered boy appeared, a smirk planted on his face.
He had black, flowing hair and piercing, deep and icy blue eyes. He wore baggy jeans and a simple T-shirt. Although his eyes were bright and full of energy, he had a dark gaze. When that gaze settled on Breeze's urgent expression, his smirk melted away.
"Hi, Xavier..." She croaked.
"What's the matter?" His voice was warm and thick, like honey, with a husky hint to it. He didn't give her a chance to answer his question, "Come in. We have to talk."
A slight smile flickered on Breeze's face as Xavier moved aside let her in. She shrugged out of her jacket when the thick, warm air brushed against her tingling skin. The door clicked shut and Xavier sat down. He stretched his arms over the back of the sofa and yawned dramatically. Breeze crossed her arms.
Xavier's house was small but worked well for him and his family. A small, dark red sofa occupied most of the space. On the wall, a framed picture of a waterfall was placed perfectly on the cream paint. To the left of the sofa, a staircase led to a dark landing. To the right, a small desk baring a laptop stood by a large window. A LCD TV flickered silently in the room.
After a few seconds, Xavier patted the top of the chair, "You can sit down, y'know."
Breeze nodded and perched herself on the chair next to him. He didn't allow another awkward moment; his quiet chuckle filled the room. Breeze's eyes widened when Xavier's arm draped over her shoulders and gently pulled her back onto the cushion, "Relax! Jeez, something's got you stressed alright."
"I'm fine." Breeze lied. She forced a smile, looking at his perfect face, getting lost in his frosty eyes. She liked Xavier a lot and not in a friend way. In actual fact, that's exactly what they were- Best friends. They had known each other since they became neighbours, age three, and didn't lose contact when Breeze moved away. They even started a 'strange name group' together. It all seemed like meaningless child's play to Breeze now. She was worried. How could she admit her feelings to him? She was a loser; an unpopular student of an upper class school. He was amazing... The dream boy all the girls drooled over. But he didn't like them... In fact, he wasn't like them at all: Sex obsessed and wild. Most of the time, he kept himself to himself and Breeze liked that.
A grin lit up Xavier's features, "We both know that's a lie, Bree." He called her Bree often, "to hide her strange name-ness", he'd said. No one else called her Bree. It was just him.
"I know it's a lie..." She said, looking away quickly.
Xavier sighed, his grin gone. He took his arm from around Breeze. She shivered, enjoying the pleasant tingling feeling his touch left behind. "Tell me what's wrong, Bree... And don't try to change the subject."
Tears started to form in Breeze's eyes as she thought about it. Xavier blurred in her vision. She'd gone to his house for support... So why not tell him?
"It's Randall." A sob escaped from her but he tried to disguise it, "He's missing. Mom doesn't care... I just don't know what to do."
His brows lowered, shadowing his eyes, as he thought about this. He spoke to her while his eyes were fixed on the worn carpet, "Randall? When did he go missing?"
"Last night." Breeze told him, "He went out around midnight..."

Her thoughts trailed back to the night before when she had jumped awake after a large clatter echoed up the stairs. Her head swam as she sat up. Just as she was starting to think it was her imagination, another crash sounded from the kitchen. A drawer opened and cutlery clinked. Randall's voice was low and rough but had a hint of utter horror to it, "Leave me alone!" He shouted. A chair scraped noisily against the wooden floor and someone, something, opened the garden gate outside.
Breeze slid out of bed and carefully placed her feet on the ground. Silently, she crept to her bedroom door and clicked it open, holding her breath. She felt her way across the shadowy landing to the stairs, placing one foot in front of the other warily. She was vigilant to avoid squeaky floorboards; she knew the location of every one.
Randall was still stumbling around in the kitchen. He was still clattering, panicking and shouting insults to whoever, or whatever, was with him.
Then, she heard it.
Quiet at first, a whisper started to increase in volume the closer Breeze got to the kitchen. She hovered in front of the living room door, staring at the knots in the wood. The raspy, female whisper was heavenly and angelic. "Come with me, Randall. We only wish to talk with you."
"Who's we?" Randall demanded.
"My friends want to meet you. We've been waiting for you for a long time." There was a few seconds silence, "You've been accepted."
"Accepted?" Confusion trickled into Randall's tone. "Accepted for what?"
"An amazing group of people, Randall. We're going to show you the other side of life." The whispery, chime-like voice picked up a little. "The fun part, of course."
"No!" Randall demanded.
Breeze touched the handle and slowly pushed it down, creaking open the door almost silently. She slipped half of her body into the room. The conversation in the kitchen had faded. A window slid open and a gentle gust of wind travelled through the house.
"Okay." Randall's voice had changed. It contained no emotion and no expression. It wasn't like him. What question was he responding to? "As you wish."
"Good." The angelic voice sent chills down Breeze's back.
Quietly, footsteps sounded on the kitchen floor. Material flapped and zipped. He was leaving...
Without thinking, Breeze, cold with sweat, ran into the kitchen. She burst through the door and gave out a plea, "Stop!" The last thing she wanted was Randall joining another gang; they smoked and got drunk... They hurt people.
Breeze expected to see a horrific sight in the room but she was surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary at first. Randall was leaning on a counter, the house keys hanging from his fingers, a blank, emotionless and still mask upon his face. His deep-set eyes gazed at Breeze murderously. His slender body was poised to sprint and his blond hair was knotted and matted. It became apparent what was wrong with this scene... His eyes; they were usually brown-green. At that moment, they were glazed white with no pupils.
Frozen, Breeze stood there with her jaw dropped. She didn't move an inch when Randall ran towards her quickly, his hand grabbing her shoulder. Before she could respond, she was on the floor watching the door slam behind him. That was the last time, Breeze thought, that she'd ever see her brother again.

Xavier nodded slowly when Breeze's story was over. He looked shocked as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to respond to that..."
"It's okay, you don't have to believe me." She told him. "My mom doesn't anyway. No one will. It's stupid... Maybe I dreamt it and he's out with another gang right now."
"No." Xavier said, "I believe you... It's just a lot to take in."
"That's a funny way of putting it." Breeze said, trying to lighten up a little bit.
Xavier nodded again, "It has to mean something, Bree. Even if it was a dream, it has to mean something." His grin came back slowly when a thought came to his mind. His eyes settled on Breeze, "Besides, it's a mystery that we have to solve! We'll be detectives again!" He winked at her and she couldn't help but laugh at the way his twitchy wink combined with his goofy grin. "So how about it, sister? Up for a challenge?"
Breeze nodded, a contented feeling flooding her chest.
"Awesome!" Xavier exclaimed. His tone returned to seriousness. "We'll find your brother, Bree. I promise."
With that, he pulled Breeze into a tight, warm hug. Slowly, her arms slid around him and a stream of relief poured over her. Xavier was someone she could trust. The only person she could trust... "Thank you." Breeze whispered in his ear as she rested her chin on his muscular shoulder. "So much."

Chapter 2

"Here..." Breeze whispered, facing the dark, creaking gate.
Xavier stopped beside me and looked at the gate with a frown. "It came in this way?"
"Yeah..." She swallowed as she thought about the girl's voice in the kitchen, heavenly, childish and luring. It became more believable that the voice was that of her imagination.