Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)

by Jenna Kay

  Phoenix nods. “I understand, and thank you for meeting with me. I'll go tell the others and we'll wait it out.”

  “You have shelter?” my mother inquires.

  He nods again. “Yes ma'am, we do. I'll be sure to keep the others safe, though I will continue to go to school.” His gaze drifts over to me and I shiver. Why is he able to do that to me?

  To my despair my mother agrees with his decision. “That's a wise choice. Keep close to Gracen and she'll keep you informed.” This gets my gears grinding.

  “What?” I express, turning to Mom with shock washing over my features. “I'm not a babysitter.”

  “You will treat Phoenix with respect until Jude and I get things straightened out,” she flat-out orders, standing to her feet, Jude following suite. “We will talk about this later, Gracen, but for now I've got to rest up for tonight.”

  “But Mom—”

  “We will speak soon, Phoenix,” she tells him, giving him a soft smile. “You have our numbers.” As she walks to her bedroom she says once again, “Gracen, we will talk about this later.” Before I can retort she slams her door, shaking the pictures on the wall. I look to Jude, who is staring at my mother's closed door.

  “You should've been up front with her,” he says softly, still staring at the door. Then without a glance at me he walks out the door of the apartment, leaving Phoenix and I alone.

  The room is quiet, except for Phoenix's foot tapping on the linoleum floor, his movement shaking the table. I look down at my entwined hands, twiddling my thumbs, not knowing what to say to Phoenix. Actually, I want to say a lot of things to him, some very rotten, ugly things, but the words won't form correctly. Instead I lift my pale eyes to his dark ones and just glower, still in shock over the conversation we'd just shared with mom and Jude.

  “Are you mad?” he asks, his eyes studying me.

  “How did you find me?” I question instead of answering, leaning my elbows on the table. “Did you follow me?”

  He shakes his head and looks down at the floor. “No. I got you address from the front office at school.” He lifts his head just in time to see my mouth drop open. “It's not that hard to sneak into the school's vital records, especially if you can appear and disappear just as fast.”

  “You can really do that?” I inquire in amazement. Of course he can, just like the blonde Viper from the other night.

  He nods his head. “Yep, among other things. As we get to know each other I can show you many, many things.” His eyes are serious, and staring deeply into mine, causing me to shudder, the pout of his lips catching my attention. What is he doing to me?

  Quickly I stand to my feet, eager to get as far away from him as I can. The feelings I'm experiencing with him are completely alien to me, and they're also making me extremely mad. I'm a warrior, not a high school hussy. I hunted, fought, and killed demons on my weekends, not dated and chased boys like normal girls.

  “Phoenix,” I say, my voice quivering and my back to him, “I need to be alone right now. I'm not sure if it's a good idea for us to get close, but I'll give it a shot. To be friends, that is. But for now I've got a lot of thinking to do. Don't take this the wrong way, but could you, you know...leave?”

  Behind me a chair scrapes against the floor, signaling that Phoenix had stood up.

  “No problem, Gracen,” he responds, his voice shaking as well. “Your wish is my command.” The way he says the last part breaks my anxious heart.

  “Please don't be mad,” I plead, turning around to face him. “I just need to—”

  My words come to a screeching halt, stuck inside mouth. I realize that I'm talking to myself when my eyes roam over the kitchen table.

  Phoenix is gone, leaving me alone to battle my confusing thoughts.

  111

  Silver Mortal

  CHAPTER 9

  The alarm clock rouses me from my fitful sleep. Picking it up and slamming it against the nightstand, it stops its shrill buzz. I flop back onto my pillows and sigh, relishing the warmth and softness of the cottony material. Red and orange filters through my half-opened blinds, the sun's light too brilliant for my sleepy eyes. I rub at my crusted-over eyes in hopes that I can open them completely. My dreams had kept me busy throughout the night, but they were not like the nightmares that have plagued me in the past.

  No, these new dreams didn't have me sweating through my clothes or screaming at the top of my lungs. Instead they had been happy, pleasant, and...all about Phoenix. A rush of heat floods my face as I remember his handsome smile, his plump lips, his dark eyes, his—

  “You're not planning on ditching school, are you?”

  My heart leaps to my throat at the sound of my mother's voice, my hand flying to my chest. Doing a quick sweep of my room with tired eyes, I find her sitting on the floor, her back against my closed closet door. She's still dressed in her usual demon hunting garb, which is all black. Her short blonde hair is jelled into pointy spikes. How she manages to keep them standing after a night of roaming the streets was totally lost to me.

  “Mom!” I exclaim, taking a few breaths to settle my out-of-control heart. “You scared me, and no, I'm not ditching. Why would you even think that?”

  She answers with, “Well, you skipped a couple of classes the other day, so I thought your next step would be to pull an all day ditch.” She lets out a loud, rumbling yawn.

  “How did—oh.” I shake my head as the truth slaps me across the face. “Phoenix. He told you, right?”

  “Mm-Hm,” she replies curtly, leaning her head back against the door. “But I'm not here to talk about you ditching some classes. I'm here to talk about Phoenix. And since you're about to get up and I'm about to lie down I thought we'd have a five minute chat about what you tried to keep from me.”

  I roll my eyes and sit up, resting my elbows on my crossed legs. “I didn't mean to keep anything from you. It's just that I thought I could handle it on my own.”

  “Honey, no matter what the situation is, you always have me to talk to.” She yawns again, closing her eyes. I know she's tired and needing sleep. I can tell by the way her head is tilting toward her chest.

  A moment of sleepy silence passes before I say, “So...you wanted to talk about Phoenix.” Her eyes pop back open and she shakes her head.

  “Oh. Right.” She giggles slightly—she's really silly when she's tired. “I know this Phoenix situation is kind of confusing, but I want you to promise me one thing.”

  “And what would that be?”

  She hesitates before responding, “Get to know him a little better. Be nice and civil toward him. He's needs all the support he can get, and who knows? Maybe we can team up with these guys and work together.”

  “Do you really think that can happen?” I ask pointing out, “After all, they are our sworn enemies.”

  She sighs. “I know, but this is a different case, one that I've never experienced or even heard of. If your grandfather was here he'd definitely be against it, no matter what was spilling off of their feelings. But this is a new day and age. Circumstances, lives, everything has changed and it changes daily.”

  “Yeah, I guess your right,” I react, understanding her every word. “I mean take Untouched humans, for instance. No matter what kind of lives they are born into, they still have control over what they think is right and what is wrong. So I guess the same can be said for us Touched humans.”

  Mom nods in agreement. “Exactly. Touched or Untouched, we are all born with freewill, even though Vipers teach against that. They grow up being taught that if they don't hold on to their heritage, if they question why they must torment the innocents, they are told they are damaged, and in need of Purging.”

  “Purging?” I wonder aloud.

  “Yes,” she says, her gray eyes widening. “The Purging in the Night Viper clan is strenuous and inhumane. This process starts with throwing the one disobedient in a deep hole and bonding them with chains. The first week they get nothing to eat or drink. If they surv
ive that, then the next week they're able to have some water, maybe a piece of bread. Then the third week...” She trails of, her body shuddering. “Let's just say it's even more unpleasant than the first two weeks.”

  This intrigues me. “Do you think Phoenix went through that?”

  She shrugs, then stands to her feet. “Maybe. Quite possible.”

  As she begins to retreat from my room I inquire, “So my instructions are to be nice to Phoenix and befriend him?”

  She pauses at my open door and peers at me sideways. “Put more emphasis on the “nice” part, you got that?”

  I force myself to smile. “Yeah, I got it.”

  After Mom leaves my room, I once again plop down against my pillows, my thoughts a big jumbled whorl of disarray. So, I've got to get to know Phoenix better, get closer to him and be nice to him. Phoenix, a fellow Touched human. I'd just been told to hang out with a Viper.

  Would I be able to accomplish such a feat?

  A sly smile tugs at my lips.

  Yes. Yes I could.

  Even if it killed me.

  ***

  At school I search for my English Lit book in my locker, finally finding it under all the garbage that I've thrown inside the tiny box. Closing the locker door I nearly jump up to the ceiling when Bets's face appears out of nowhere.

  “Whoa!” I squeak out, startled by her sudden arrival. “Bets, how long have you been standing there?” The expression she wears on her face lets me know I'm in for an ass-chewing, so I ready myself for whatever she throws my direction.

  “Well hey there, Gracen, my best friend in the whole wide world!” she expresses sweetly—a little too sweetly, actually. “What have you been up to since the last time we spoke?”

  Noting her sarcastic tone I dive right into my excuse for ignoring her. “I was dead tired yesterday, so I turned my phone off and took a nap. I just needed a break from reality. I wasn't avoiding you or anything.” Yeah, that last part is a total lie, and by the roll of her dark eyes, she's not buying my excuse.

  “You forget that I know you better than you know yourself.”

  That's debatable. “Yeah, right...”

  “And,” she continues, “you got tired of me calling you and talking about Phoenix, right?”

  “Actually, yes,” I concur quickly, but she continues on.

  “And the reason for not wanting to introduce me is because you are interested in him, am I right?”

  Without thinking I answer, “Yes, that's exactly...wait a minute, no! No, I'm so not interested in him!” At least I don't think I am.

  Bets cackles. “Oh, yes you are! I can tell by that dreamy look in your eyes. You're hot for the new guy, aren't you?” She waggles her pierced eyebrows.

  I sigh, fighting to keep my face expressionless. “No, Betrina, I'm not. I've told you a million times that I don't want a boyfriend. I don't need one.”

  She knits her brows together, her black-painted lips frowning. “Then why won't you introduce us?”

  Well, because, Bets. He's a Touched human who grew up around demons.

  Yeah, that's what I would've said...if I had the guts.

  “Bets, you don't get it,” I tell her gently. “This guy is not for you, he's a...he's just not good enough for you. You'd only get hurt if you get involved with him.”

  Rolling her eyes once again she groans, “Gracen...”

  “Seriously, I'm asking you to trust me on this one.” I realize I'm pleading a case that can't be won. Bets is too stubborn and bullheaded once her mind is made up. But I had to try anything that would deter her from mine and Phoenix's world.

  She narrows her eyes at me, grinning.

  “So, you're saying,” she begins, glancing down at her dark red nails and inspecting them, “he's a bad boy.”

  Not sure where she's going with this I reply, “Um, yeah. He's not boyfriend material.”

  She chuckles, suddenly grabbing me by the shoulders. “Grace, babe, I'm not looking for a good guy—I'm looking for a good time, and only bad boys can deliver that. If you're my best friend, you'll put in a good word for me and introduce us at lunch.” She gives me her best puppy dog expression that melts my heart, and of course I give in, though I know it's the wrong thing to do.

  “Fine,” I reluctantly concede, “I'll introduce you to him, but if he turns out to be a jerk, don't come crying to me!”

  She bites down on her lip, giving me a wink. “Doll, no one is as big a jerk as yours truly.” Dropping her hands from my shoulders, she points at herself, and I nod in agreement. She is a jerk. She knows it. And she doesn't care.

  Bets isn't the tenderhearted type, so if she did get involved with Phoenix and it didn't work out, she'd just find another willing stooge. She's always been the type that, if she was to get bucked off one horse, then she'd jump right back up and climb on another. No problems, no regrets, no nothing. She lived her life in the now, stuck solely on the present. Her favorite quote on life is this: Life is too short to dwell on the past or worry about the future, so grab the present by the balls and don't let go.

  Seriously, her words, not mine.

  “Thanks Gracen!” She pulls me into a tight squeeze, then lets me go and flits off to class. Her black hair bobs up and down as she walks, her high-heeled shoes clacking against the linoleum so loudly that I'm able to here them over the crowded hallway.

  Grudgingly I turn around and walk toward first period. Phoenix would be there and I'd have to make myself be nice to him. Not only that, I'd have to introduce him to Bets at lunch, and I really didn't want to go through with it. Thinking about it, a pang of jealously stabs me in the gut, followed by an uneasy feeling crashing into me. The very thought of being jealous is just...

  Why would I be jealous of Bets and Phoenix meeting? True, he's cute, and my dreams last night had been dominated by his presence, but that doesn't mean I'm interested in him. The last thing I need is a romantic relationship that would most likely hinder my duties as a Silver Mortal, and I surely didn't need to get myself involved with a Night Viper. And most importantly, I'm not into Phoenix. At least, I think I'm not.

  All my scrambled-up thoughts drain out of my mind as I enter the classroom and set my sights on Phoenix. He's sitting at his desk with his head leaned back with black headphones covering his ears. His eyes are closed and his facial expression is that of pure calm. Even the viper on his cheek seems to be fading beneath his skin, though I know that can never happen.

  As I approach my desk I see there's a mason jar filled to the brim with purple Skittles, my all-time favorite candy and color. Picking the jar up and inspecting it, my heart beats triple time. How could he have known that purple Skittles are my favorite treat? Shifting my gaze to him I see he's already staring at me with a wide grin on his tan face. He'd put away his MP3 player and headphones, his dark eyes gleaming eagerly.

  With the jar in my hand, I quirk an eyebrow at him. “I didn't know vital records held my favorite candy obsession on file. Wow, they really take the lives of their students seriously, huh?”

  “Wasn't in your records,” he informs me, winking.

  “Well, duh, Phoenix, I was making a joke.” Then curiously I inquire, “So, really, how did you find out? Are you a mind reader or something?”

  “Nope, I can't read minds,” he replies, his grin turning sly.

  “Then how?”

  “Yesterday. Your place. Ellen told me.” My mom, of course!

  Sitting in my seat, keeping my attention glued to him, I say, “You mean before I got there you guys were talking about my fixation on purple Skittles?”

  “Actually it was after I left. You seemed pretty upset so I wanted to get you something.” He rubs a hand through his silky hair. “We text messaged each other and she said the easiest way to get on your good side was to offer purple Skittles.”

  Still in awe I say, “Wow, that's so sweet...and strange.”

  “Consider it a peace offering,” he tells me. When I don't reply he puts in, “I wan
t our friendship to start off on a good note. I also wanted to show you how much I appreciate you watching out for me and the others. For giving us a chance. We haven't had many chances in our lives.”

  To my astonishment I feel my stubborn, impenetrable guard dissolve as my eyes fill with tears. For a brief moment I feel what he's feeling—uncertainty, restiveness, fear—all rolled into one giant meatball of emotion. No one, not even my mother or grandmother, had ever given me such a thoughtful gift.

  “Thank you,” I tell him softly, and he opens his mouth to retort, but the bell ringing interrupts him.

  The next couple of classes pass by in a blur, giving me hardly anytime to think. Before long I'm sitting down at lunch, nibbling on a red apple. Only when Bets sits down do I remember I'm suppose to introduce her to Phoenix.

  “Hola, chica!” she greets me, situating herself across the table. “Where's Phoenix?”

  Mentally kicking myself for not warning Phoenix about Bets I reply, “He should be here any time now.”

  “Grrreat!” She fluffs her hair. “I know this is going to sound infantile, but I'm kind of nervous. How do I look?” She looks at me expectantly; I give her a once over.

  “Like every bad boys dream,” I mutter, taking another bite from my apple.

  “Perfect,” she smiles. “So, how's Mark? Have you talked to him lately?”

  A hard stone falls into the pit of my stomach at the mention of his name.

  “I'm not sure how he's doing,” I answer after swallowing a bite of apple.

  She frowns. “I take it we have to find a new place for nachos, huh?” Before I can answer her eyes grow wide, staring behind me. “Oh, there he is!”