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Chapter 1

I could taste the salt on my lips, and feel the breeze whip my hair, as the ferry was propelled through the water. I was not here by choice, and that fact was evident by the scowl on my face. I pulled the jumper tighter around myself, shivering against the Irish winter chill. I cast a glare down at my older brother. He looked calm and professional, dressed in crisp suit and tie. Seeing my glare, he stood and walked over to me.

"You will like things here." He said, standing next to me, leaning against the rail. "It'll be a fresh start."

"I don't need a fresh start. I need to be at home." Except home isn't home anymore. Not without Mom.

"Just trust me. This will be good for you." I let out a snort.

"You're so full of shit." He looked down at me sharply.

"Don't use that kind of language!"

I snapped my head around to meet his angry eyes.

"You are not my parent!"

Brandon stiffened in anger.

"Maybe not, but I'm the closest you have got!" I scoffed angrily. Not wanting this to escalate any further, I turned and stalked to the first floor of the ferry.

"What can I gettcha darlling." The bartender drawled. "Coffee." I was too pissed to dwell on the fact that they still had a bartender on a private ferry, and the fact that he was letting a

fourteen year-old sit at the bar. "Cumin up sweetheart." He was Irish based on his accent, and fairly young with thick dark hair and a strong jaw. "Migh I just ask ya, what's a youngin like ya doin 'round here?" He slid the coffee across to me, leaning on the counter.

"Going to hell." He let out a chuckle.

"Really then? What's the name of this hell?"

"Whitecrest."

He suddenly froze. Turning his head slowly, he starred at me. "Whitcrest ya say? Interesting." I glanced at him, a little confused by the importance of the name.

"Yeah. So?"

"What? Ye' goin ta that school, an ye don know the history?"

"It didn't seem pertinent."

"Well, seein as ye goin there, I might as well tell ye. What do ye know bout' the Silent Witch?"

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