Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (8 page)

BOOK: Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)
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I react to his words by laughing out loud. “Oh please! Forgive me for my outburst, but you're not going to sit here and convince me you're wanting to rebel against your true nature. I'd have to be pretty dense to believe such a lame story.”

“I'm telling the truth!” he expresses, slamming his fist on the table, clinking the silverware together. “And that's not the whole story. There's a group of us hiding out in the city. We've broken away from the Viper clan. We've escaped the demons that had imprisoned us and now we are in hiding, taking refuge here.”

“Um...what?” Watching him carefully I note the sincerity all over his face. I'm still unable to trust him, though. Every word sounds off alarms in my brain, causing my suspicions to grow.

“There's five of us,” he continues, leaning his elbows on the table and locking his hands together. “Three weeks ago we were able to break through the walls of the compound we called home, though it never felt like a home. It felt more like a prison in Hell.

“We took a stand, fighting for what we believe in, tired of being pushed around by the lowest of demons. They beat us on a daily basis, tortured us if we didn't follow their
heinous
commands. Sometimes they would make us watch as they physically hurt and tormented innocents. And it wasn't just the demons that did the tormenting—our fellow
V
ipers took it upon themselves to dish it out.

“One night they made me watch as a group of male Vipers raped a woman repeatedly. She begged them to stop, but they didn't listen. They ravaged her over and over again, until she was pleading for death.”

The Silver Eagle begins to weep in my heart. “Did...Did they kill her?”

Averting his eyes he nodded. A single tear fell down his cheek, and when his gaze caught back up with mine I could see his eyes darkening even more, the memories of that night coming back in haunting measures. I know how he's feeling—I have a few disturbing memories of my own.

“We don't want to be evil,” he whispers, taking a paper napkin and wiping off his face. “We want to be good. We want to protect the innocents, not destroy them.”

I blow out a breath that I hadn't noticed I was holding in. Studying Phoenix, reaching out to him with my supernatural feelers, I know he's telling the truth. The pain he feels is genuine, and I know his heart is broken, possibly beyond repair. All the years of his life have been nothing but pain, heartache, and misery. What he's gone through makes my short life look like a fluffy slumber party.

“Phoenix, I know that what you're telling me is the truth,” I admit, adding, “though while we've been talking the black viper on your face has been taunting me, reminding me of what you really are.”

A pained expression crosses his face. “If I could erase it I would, but I can't. Evil doesn't exist,” he points to his heart, “in here anymore. There's no room in here for darkness. Never again.”

“What does any of this have to do with me?” I ask wearily, rubbing at my now-aching temples. “Why are you going to my school? Why are you telling me your story?”

“Because we have no where else to turn,” he responds, his voice shaky. “You and your mother are the only Silver Mortals in the city. We've sought you out—”


Hey,” I interject as a quick thought filters through my brain, “Is one of your guys blonde?”

A shocked
expression covers his face. “Y
eah. Anyway, we need—”

“Who is he? What's his name?”

“His name is...” he wavers, then continues. “His name is irrelevant. Right now at this moment we, in a nutshell, need you guys to help us.” This frustrates me.

“Help? You want us to help you and your group of rebel Vipers?” I lean forward, my palms pressing down onto the table top. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“We need your protection, Gracen, and you are the only one that can do it.” He pauses, dropping his hands into his lap. “They have soldiers out there looking for us, and their orders are to terminate.”

Unnerved, not knowing what to say, I stare at him. My mind continues to run the conversation over and over, in the end none of it making any sense. He's not lying to me—my discerning powers tell me that much. Every word he has spoken is the truth. He did, indeed, need help, but why come to me? What possessed him to search my mother and I out for protection? Well, yeah, my mother and I are
the closest Silver Mortals around, but why did he think we could help them?

For a moment I feel compassion toward him, but it doesn't last. Images of Mark being beat up the night before flash in my mind, giving way to anger. My life could only be described as a wreck, floating in a pool of constant turmoil, and it would never be normal. Ever.

In simpler words, I have enough on my plate to deal with; I have no more room for anyone or anything else. Period.

“Phoenix, I've heard enough. Your story is very touching, but my mother and I have enough to worry about. Our job as Silver Mortals is to protect the Untouched on this planet and send demons back to Hell. Nothing in our job description states that we are to protect runaway Vipers.” I stand up and pull my jacket on, eager to get away from him and this whole situation. “It's been fun, and I wish you the best of luck, but I'm not the answer to your problems.”

“But Gracen...” he pleads, also getting to his feet.

“And a word of advice,” I tell him hastily. “If you're trying to hide from darkness it's best that you and your gang of rebels stay off the radar. You can start by not enrolling in public school.” I turn around to walk away, but he grabs my arm and halts my steps.

“Please, Gracen. We need your help.” His dark eyes pierce through me, sending shudders down my spine. He looks so sad, so pitiful, like a lost puppy dog. His feelings flow into me, feelings of desperation and apprehension, but I'm too stubborn to be swayed.

Pushing his hand off my arm, I send him an icy glare. “Like I said—I'm not your answer.”

Once out of Tony's I breathe in the fresh air and head back to school, leaving behind Phoenix and the talk we'd just shared. Lunchtime had already started, leaving me with yet another problem...

What to tell Bets about the date, knowing the subject had been formulating questions in her one-track mind. I laugh to myself, thinking she's probably waiting for me outside the door of the cafeteria. My thinking had been right, because as I make my way down the hall she sees me and her face brightens up. Running up to me she slings an arm around my shoulder.

“Where have you been?” she inquires sternly. “I've been looking all over for you!”

Grinning and ignoring the whispers being thrown in our direction I reply, “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to run home and get my homework.”

She chuckles, her black-studded nose ring gleaming under the florescent lights. “Very typical of you. Why, I bet you'd lose your own head if it wasn't attached to your neck!”

I smile. “You're probably right.”

“Well, since you're back you can tell Dr. Bets what
the crap
happened between you and hottie Mark. Maybe together we can figure out what the hell you did wrong.”

Sighing loudly, I tell her the most believable story I can muster, one that will keep her from finding out the truth. Surprisingly it isn't that hard to conceive and she believes every word, though I'm not sure it's because of my professional lying skills. As soon as my story is out of my mouth she starts talking about how good her new boyfriend is in the sack. So much for her keeping things to herself.

The rest of the day I try my hardest to concentrate on my subjects, but it's an unreachable goal. The talk between Phoenix and I replays over and over again, like a needle hung up on a scratched record. By the end of the day my head pounds fervently and my stomach seems to have flipped inside itself. Yeah, a yucky feeling.

Arriving home I walk straight to my room to lie down, my whole body a big pile of
blah
. I close my eyes, hoping for a little reprieve, but it never happens. All I see behind my closed eyelids is Phoenix's sad face, and all I can hear is his deplorable voice ringing in my ears, his words set on repeat.

“We need your help.”

95

 

Silver Mortal

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter 8

 

 

The room is cold and dark, and the smell of death is so heavy in the air it makes me retch. I try to move but find that my arms and ankles are bound to the chair I'm sitting in, which is situated in the middle of a large room. The floor beneath my feet is wet and covered with rock, the walls appearing to have the same texture. A furnace sits in the corner of the room, a fire blazing bright and hot—actually, the whole room is scorching. Beads of sweat drip into my eyes. I try blinking them away, but that only makes it worse.

“Hello!” I call out, my voice one big echo. My mind is buzzing with many random thoughts, each one tumbling over the other.

Where I am? How did I get here? Who is responsible for tying me to this chair? And who are they?

Suddenly a grating sound screeches in my ears. The metal doors confining me to the room busts wide open, revealing a large shadow of a man. A chord of fear strikes in my heart as the shadow becomes clearer.

It's the Viper with white hair.

“My dear Gracen,” he says, his voice thundering through
the
room, the floor rumbling underneath my feet, “I've waited a long, long time for this moment.”

I start to scream when he pulls out a knife and walks toward me...

I jerk awake, falling off my bed and onto the floor. Taking deep, slow breaths I try to ease the erratic beat of my heart. My eyes roam over to my window. The sun is starting to set, its rays of pink and orange flooding through the curtains. Turning my gaze to the clock on my nightstand I see that it's only twenty after six. I must have fallen asleep when I'd gotten home from school, giving room for a dream to attack me.

The dream. It had been different this time. All of it had felt so real—the roughness of the ropes binding my arms and ankles to the chair, the heat from the furnace, the smell of death. What's getting to me the most is the fact that I'd been the star of the show, the Viper saying my name. Oh, and also the huge knife he'd wielded had me a little on edge, too.

My cell phone vibrates on my nightstand. I reach for it, readying myself to answer it, until I see that the caller is Mark. I stare at it, wondering if I should answer it or not. Our date had been less than perfect...or should I say less than normal? Well, whichever way I put it I'd already made up my mind that Mark and I didn't need to be in contact with each other anymore. Ever. We were just too different.

So I didn't answer his call, and I wouldn't answer any of his calls in the future.

A knock on my door sounds, followed by Mom walking in. The phone drops from my hand.

“Hey Gracen, I'm about—” She stops, shooting me a peculiar look. “Honey, what are you doing on the floor?”

Standing up too quickly I realize my legs are as wiggly as noodles. Stabilizing myself by sitting on the edge of the bed I reply, “Just waking up from a nap.”

“Must've been a he
ck
uva nap,” she smirks, her eyebrows raised in double arches. She walks over to my closet and begins rummaging through my clothes, pulling out a long-sleeved black shirt. “Hope you don't mind, but I need to borrow this.”

“No, I don't mind,” I assure her, my teeth clamping down on my bottom lip. My nerves are shot, rattled by the dream and the talk I'd shared with Phoenix.

Should I or should I not tell her about Phoenix and the other Vipers? What would she think if I told her that I'd been in the presence of a Viper and felt absolutely no hate for him?

Sucking it up I ask, “Mom, is it possible for a Night Viper to be...good?”

My question causes her to drop the shirt in her hands, the material falling to the ground. Quickly she picks it off the floor and turns around, her eyes wide.

“Why would...why do you ask that?” She walks over and sits down next to me on the bed, her gray eyes studying me with fierce intensity.

I swallow a tight nervous lump in my throat, my blue eyes staring back at her. I want to tell her everything—Phoenix, the dream, the blonde Viper that had called my name. Everything. I want to talk about how everything's going wrong in my unhinged pathetic excuse of a life, but that will never happen. We don't share your typical
, normal
mother/daughter relationship where I can cry
and lean
on her shoulder and her tell me that no matter what
’s going on
  it will be okay. I know if I tell her about the rebel Vipers she will go ballistic and want to hunt them down, which I can't allow. Like I said, I don't feel Phoenix will hurt anyone. And as for the dream...why worry her?

So instead of getting all girly and crying why me? why me? on her shoulder like most daughters are able to do, I decide to let it go, play off my
simple
question as completely random. For the first time in my life I fe
el
it necessary to
try and
figure this one out on my own.

Shrugging my shoulders I explicate, “Just a question, no biggie. Thinking out loud.”

“Oh, alright,” she says, appearing to be relieved. “Though I will answer the question. I think the chances are slim for a Viper to go against their true nature, but it wouldn't surprise me.”

“It wouldn't?”

“Nah,” she grins, adding, “Stranger things have
surely
happened.”

***

The next morning I walk into English Lit and see Phoenix sitting at his desk. I pause at the door and stare at him, watching his delicate movements. His head is down, his dark brown hair falling forward as his pencil scribbles quickly on a piece of paper. I can't believe he's still around, especially after the talk we'd had the day before. I'd told him to stay off the radar, so why is he still here? Was he trying to
tick
me off? With my heart full of anger I begin to walk down the aisle, ready to give him what for, but before I can he looks up...

And smiles.

I come to a halt, my feet becoming glued to the floor. My heart jumps against the confinements of my chest and my breathing slows. For a moment it feels like we're the only two in the room, our surroundings melting away to nothing. Just him, me, his gorgeous smile, his dark eyes full of kindness. What is he doing to me? Why am I acting like a school girl with a major crush?

Shaking the dust from my brain, the
loud
classroom reappearing around us, I walk slowly to my desk with my head to the floor. Sitting down I take my heavy textbook out of my backpack and lay it on the desk's top. I don't look at Phoenix; I don't speak to Phoenix. That is, until he speaks to me.

“Gracen, are you trying to ignore me?” His deep silky voice kisses my ears, and I find myself turning my head to acknowledge him. Only I place a mask of hardness to my face, hiding my disturbing feelings for him. The black viper on his cheek is not as noticeable today, but it's still there, reminding me of what he is.

“No,” I tell him in a detached voice, my eyes showing no emotion. “Though I don't completely understand why you're here since we decided that you need to stay off radar.”

“We decided?” He chuckles. “When did we decide this?”

“Yesterday at Tony's,” I reply coolly, beginning to get irritated. “You know, the little conversation we shared where I told you my mom and I could not help your little gang of misfits?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I remember, and I know you guys aren't interested in helping. We can't blame you for not wanting to, so we'll find our own way.”

“Then why are you still coming to school?” I
inquire
speculatively, raising an eyebrow.

“Because,” he answers through a sad smile, “one of us needs to get an education and stay ahead of the game. Everyone voted that I be the one to go to school. Anyway, it's easier to get a job if I can show that I'm a student.”

I scoff. “Wow, that's a lame excuse! Anyone can get a job, you moron.”

“Be that as it may,” he says, ignoring my very blatant put down, “I just feel it necessary that I continue on with school, to keep up a normal facade. And also because I want to get to know you better.”

His statement both confuses and excites me. “What do you mean by that?”

He leans over in his desk, his face in my face. “I like you.” My heart stutters in my chest.

“You barely know me,” I point out, my eyes staring deeply into his dark ones.

“So let's change that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “What's the harm of us becoming friends?”

“Oh, there's a lot of harm,” I reply, then whispering, “you know, like us being enemies and all.”

“I told you,” he says, his tone becoming serious. “I'm not your enemy.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “We're still different from one another.” Gah, now I had another guy to chalk up on my extreme opposites list. Man, how much more pathetic can I get?

He bit his lip, appearing to be in deep thought.

“Maybe,” he begins after a few seconds of silence, “we can help each other.”

Suspicious I inquire, “How?”

He grins. “We can join forces. You know, work as a team
and
—”

“Oh no,” I interject quickly. “My mom would never go for that.”

“How do you know?” he asks, seemingly offended.

“I just know.”

“Hmm,” he reacts, again in deep thought. Then snapping his fingers he announces, “I've got an idea on how we can find that out.”

I snort. “Oh yeah?
And how
's that?” Just as I utter those words the bell rings, signaling for class to start. I continue to stare at him, waiting for an answer. A mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“I'll get back to you on that one,” he tells me softly, turning his attention to the front.

Not happy with his response I suppress a groan, wanting to strangle the life out of him. But then my mind switches gears, rolling me right into the gutter. Thoughts like wow he's hot and I bet he'd be a good kisser comes to mind, causing a foreign warmth to flood my belly. I inwardly shake my head, wanting my mind “gutter free” when I'm around this mysterious Viper who's trying to do good. The words Viper and good just don't sound right in the same sentence.

Who knows? Maybe these Vipers did want to join the good side, and if so, maybe there is a chance we can work together to bring down evil. A very, very slim chance.

Later at lunch Bets decides to interrogate me on the dark-haired, dark-eyed hottie that's been seen around school.

“What's his name, Gracen?” she demands as soon as we sit down with our lunches.

Trying to play it ignorant I reply, “I don't know who you're talking about.”

“Yes you do!” she exclaims, rolling her heavily made-up eyes. “Rumor has it that he sits next to you in first period, he's quiet, mysterious, and extremely doable.”

“Rumors are—seriously?” My stomach begins to tighten in knots. “And anyway, Betrina, no matter how doable—I hate that word, by the way—this dude is, you're off limits, remember? Does football star Billy Stanton ring any bells?”

She scoffs, throwing her hand up. “Billy and I aren't serious. We're just friends.”

“What?” This confuses me. “I thought he asked you to be his girlfriend after you guys, uh, you know...and you told him yes!”

“Yeah, I know I did,” she sighs, adding, “but I only said yes because we'd just gotten busy. It didn't mean anything. And besides, I dumped him last night.”

Again, I'm completely shocked. “You dumped him? Why?”

Leaning her elbows on the table and narrowing her eyes she answers, “Look, I'm not ready to settle with one guy. I'm young, I'm hot, and I'm back on the market! And right now I have my eyes set on the new guy.” She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms at her chest.

“So tell me,” she says, her grin sly and seductive, “What's his name?”

***

By the end of the school day my head was splitting in two. I practically flew home, eager to flee the teenage hell that's called high school. Bets had literally driven me bonkers asking about Phoenix and begging me to introduce him to her single self. I'd successfully escaped the school building without running into my best friend, though my phone did not. Every two minutes it vibrated with her name flashing across the screen. Even as I unlock the door to my apartment the phone jiggles in my pocket. Sighing loudly I pull the phone out and hit the power button, knowing full well that I would suffer later for avoiding her calls. I'm doing this for her own good, though I know she will never understand my reasoning.

Bets is the only person outside of Granny, mom and Jude that I love, and I would never want to hurt her. By ignoring her phone calls I'm saving her from any pain and sadness that could come out of meeting Phoenix. Sure, Phoenix may be a great guy, but the whole Night Viper thing would definitely pose a problem. Bets is a normal, Untouched human, whereas Phoenix and I are made to fight the invisible war that wages in the shadows. Though I didn't quite know what Phoenix meant by working together, point being that Silver Mortals and Night Vipers do not mix company. My mind is still backed up on that one mentation.

BOOK: Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)
2.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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