Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)

by Jenna Kay

  “Hello?” I whisper groggily.

  “Wassup chica?” Bets's voice rings in my ear. “Were you sleeping?”

  I yawn and stretch, cradling the phone with my chin. “Sort of.”

  “What?!” she exclaims shrilly. “You do know it's two in the afternoon, right?”

  “I do now,” I reply annoyingly.

  She sighs loudly into the phone. “Have you forgotten about the day we have planned? You know, shopping, eating, a movie, maybe talking to that cute waiter that goes by the name Mark Hopkins at Applebee's?”

  I groan. “Bets, I've already told you—I'm not interested in dating him or anyone right now, so quit pressuring me!”

  “Come on, Gracen! I'm your best friend and I'm only trying to help you out!”

  I laugh out loud. “Bets, really, you don't have to—”

  “Please, Gracen?” she whines. “Please let me help you get some!”

  Bets has been on my case for months to start dating, and I keep telling her over and over again that I'm not interested, but she's too stubborn to listen. I'm not saying this Mark guy is a dog or anything. On the contrary he's quite nice to look at, with his wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. When he smiles a dimple appears on his left cheek, and his body looks muscular and fit under his waiter uniform. Not to mention being the perfect height in my eyes, just topping six feet. And whenever we visit our favorite restaurant Mark is always there, even when he's not waiting on us, talking to us and being super nice and...

  OK, here's my point. It's not that I'm uninterested in him—it's because I can't be interested in him. My life is chaotic enough without adding a juvenile, romantic relationship into the mix, so I figure the single life is the only way to go. And anyway, a boyfriend would just make matters even more strained, and I was stressed enough without having a guy to deal with. Of course I can't tell Bets all this. She's my bestie and all, but she doesn't know my secrets; I also plan on keeping it that way.

  “Look, how about this,” I remark, trying hard not to laugh at her antics, “why don't you just come pick me up and we'll have a girls day, alright? No boys, no getting some...just girly crap. Sound good?”

  “Fine,” she replies. I can almost hear the pout in her voice. “I'll be there in an hour, and since I'm conceding to your harsh no boys rule, you've got to listen to what happened to me last night!”

  I groan, knowing that the details would be juicy. Not a good juicy, but a nasty juicy.

  “Did the cops come?” I inquire curiously.

  She giggles. “No, but I know someone who did!”

  “EW, Bets, NO!” I interject swiftly, majorly grossed out. “You really, really don't have to tell me all about...that! Seriously. That's just sick!”

  “Get ready to hear about the most naughtiest night of my life!” She laughs and hangs up.

  Even though Bets is vulgar and a total open book when it comes to her sexual trysts, I'm so thankful to have her as my friend. After a night of demon slaying, meeting a Fallen Angel, and having the most disturbing dream thus far in my short life, I can always count on Bets to keep me grounded to humanity. Today I could look forward to a normal day shopping with my best friend, with no demons crashing my day.

  At least I hope they wouldn't crash my normal day.

  ***

  “Mmmm! OMG, they have the best nachos in the world!” Bets exclaims through a mouthful of chips, cheese, and jalapenos, spitting some from her mouth in the process.

  I wipe my arm off with my napkin. “Bets, have you ever heard the phrase “Say it don't spray it”? I think you may benefit from it.” She responds by opening her mouth wide and showing all the contents inside.

  We're sitting in our favorite booth at Applebee's, pigging out on nachos and cokes. After shopping and seeing a dumb romantic comedy (Bets's choice, not mine), we had decided to visit the eatery, though it was almost eleven o'clock when we arrived. Fortunately for us they were opened until midnight—unfortunately for me the only waiter available was Mark, the guy Bets is always trying to set me up with. To my surprise, though, she hasn't said one word to or about him. Instead I've been forced to listen to her electrifying bedtime romp the night before with hottie Billy Stanton, star quarterback at our school and Bets's new plaything.

  “So he asked you to be his girlfriend after the sex?” I ask in astonishment, adding, “And you actually said yes?”

  She sighs, staring dreamily into empty air.

  “You have no idea how he made me feel last night,” she tells me with a wicked smile on her face. “The way he held me after he—”

  “Stop!” I quickly say, not wanting her to repeat all the nasty gag me details. “I don't need anymore imagery—once is enough. I'll puke if you go into that again.”

  She giggles, her gaze back on me. “But Gracen! It was the first time I'd ever—”

  “Nope, not listening!” I cover my ears and yell, “Lalala! Can't hear you!”

  She reaches across the table and yanks my hands from my ears. “Jeez, Gracen, lighten up! I swear, you're such a virgin.”

  “And proud of it,” I remark proudly, shooting my chin up gallantly.

  Just then a male voice breaks into our conversation. It's Mark, our waiter and all around hottie with a cute butt. Whoa, where did that come from?

  Oh, holy crap, I'm beginning to sound like Bets!

  “Can I bring you ladies anything else?” he asks, brandishing a handsome smile that's hot enough to melt a hundred gallons of ice cream.

  After that one question the whole conversation changes, sprinting in a new direction I'm not too fond of.

  “Actually, Mark, now that you ask, there is one thing you can get us.” Bets winks at me, shooting me a yeah, I'm going there look.

  Anticipating her next move I shoot her an evil eye and say, “Bets—”

  “Oh yeah?” Mark replies. “What would you like?”

  “We were just wondering,” she smiles, batting her mascaraed eyelashes, “if you could give us your phone number.”

  I gawk at her, kicking her shin under the table. She cries out in pain, kicking me right back. Looking at Mark I tell him, “Sorry about her—she's a little slow if you catch my drift.”

  “I am not!” Bets exclaims, completely offended and throwing a dirty look in my direction. Then to increase my humiliation level she says to Mark, “I'm only trying to get Gracen here a date. She's a little shy. She also thinks you're cute, but she's afraid to tell you.”

  I gasp out loud, disbelieving what my so-called best friend is doing. “Betrina, I'm so going to kill you!”

  “She's such a drama queen,” she continues, rolling her dark eyes. I try to kick her again but she's pulled her legs up in the seat, expecting my retaliation. She sticks her tongue out at me, this time food free.

  To my surprise Mark laughs. “Yes, I can give you my number.” He writes it down and rips the paper from his notepad, handing it over to me. “And Gracen, I would love to go on a date with you.”

  I'm speechless as I numbly take the piece of paper from him, knowing how idiotic I must seem with my mouth agape. Why did I just take that paper with his number on it? What's going on here?

  “Great!” Bets answers for me. “How about tomorrow night? Six o'clock at Starbucks.” Glancing at me she asks, “You like coffee, don't you Gracen?”

  “Bets!” I explode, my patience with my best friend finally breaking apart. Turning to Mark I say, “Mark, I'm sure you're a nice guy, but I can't go on a date with you. The reason is...well, it's kind of personal.”

  Bets snorts out a laugh. “Oh please!”

  “It's true!” I squeal, glaring at her, then back at Mark. “It's just, um...”

  “Yeah?” Mark smiles, the dimple on his left cheek deepening.

  I hesitate before responding, “I'm gay.”

  This shocks him. “You're gay? For real?”

  “You are such a liar!” Bets is beside herself with rage, furious with me for once again using the I'm gay line and r
uining her little set-up moment. “I'm so tired of you using that excuse. It's a total lie!”

  “It's not a lie—”

  Bets continues to rant, pointing a finger at me. “Do you know how many guys I've had to bang just to get them to believe that you and I are not together? All because you use that stupid line to scare off guys.”

  Striking back I say, “Oh, I know you're not blaming me for all the—”

  “Look, it would be different if you were gay, but you're not, so quit saying that you are!” She crosses her arms and frowns, looking away from me. I'm angry, stunned silent, mortified to the ultimate limit. I know my usual pale face is flushed with redness.

  A few silent seconds pass before Mark wonders, “So, you're not gay?”

  “Y-Yeah, I mean...” I stutter, sounding like a moron. Staring into his hazel eyes I reluctantly give in. “No, Mark. I'm not gay.”

  I feel like an even bigger dork when Bets adds curtly, “You're not the first guy she's used that line on. That's her way of playing hard to get. She's a huge tease.” She winks at Mark, then smiles smugly at me. Oh, the urge to knock her head off is so strong!

  “Mark!” a male voice barks gratingly from the kitchen. “Get in here, we could use some help!”

  Mark gives us an apologetic grin. “I'll be right back. We'll finish this conversation in a few.” He runs off and through the doors of the loud kitchen. Once he's out of hearing range I ponce on Bets.

  “I can't believe you just embarrassed me like that!” I express, fuming mad. “I mean, it's one thing to get a guys number, but to make a date with him for me? Without my permission? Are you freaking kidding me?!”

  She leans forward and speaks in a soft voice. “I'll make a deal with you. Go out with him tomorrow night and I'll stop telling you all the explicit details of my sex life.”

  Groaning and rolling my eyes I ask, “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because I can,” she retorts casually. “And also because I think you need to have a little fun. You're always stuck in with your overprotective mother who, in my opinion, needs to get some, too.” My eyes widen with shock and she keeps going. “It's true! She's so uptight if you had to pull a stick out of her ass you'd need a tractor to haul it out.”

  “Hey, watch it!” I warn her, narrowing my eyes. “That's my mom you're talking about.”

  Even though she's out of line I can't be mad at her. She doesn't know that every weekend I'm out patrolling the streets with Mom, hunting and slaying demons. She doesn't know that I'm hardly at home, and she doesn't know that a relationship would cause more trouble than it's worth. But the look she's giving me, that pleading gaze she always gives when she wants something really bad, melts my heart and I unwillingly give in.

  Sighing I tell her, “Fine, I'll go on a date with him, but you've got to promise me one thing.”

  Her smile is so big it covers her entire face. “Anything! Just name it.”

  Immediately I begin, “Stop setting me up with people. Let me be the one to handle my own affairs. I'm a big girl and I can make a date if I want to—without you holding my hand.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I interject, throwing my hand up. “I also want you to stop telling me every detail of your sex life. Like I've said a million times, some things need to be kept private.”

  She gives me a withering look, then grins. “OK, fine. As long as you give it a good shot with Mark. Like, if you find yourself enjoying his company and you're attracted to him, don't think it's a bad thing. I want you to let loose and have fun. I want you to be happy.” I smile at her.

  “Deal,” I tell her. We shake hands from across the table.

  “Ooh, here he comes,” Bets informs me, quickly standing to her feet. “I'll go to the ladies room while you seal the deal on your date tomorrow night.”

  “But, you don't...” I start to say, but she's already gone, leaving me to face Mark alone. It's not that I'm afraid to talk to guys. Nervous, maybe, but not afraid, though as Mark makes his way back to the booth my heart starts pounding out of control and anxiousness squeezes my stomach. I think the actual dating part isn't making me nervous—it's the possibility of enjoying it that causes my heart to panic.

  “Here's your check.” He places it on the table, then slides into the seat across from me. “So, are you still gay?”

  My face burns with abashment. “I-I was never gay—I mean I'm not. Gay, that is.” He grins and I just know he's thinking I'm a stumbling loser.

  “That's good,” he expresses. “And if you don't want to go out it's fine. I just don't know many people here. I've only been living in the city for three months.”

  “Mark!” the same male voice booms from the kitchen.

  Rolling his eyes he stands up. “Well. Guess I'll see you next time.”

  Before he can walk away I blurt out, “Mark, wait!” He looks over his shoulder at me.

  “What?”

  “I'd l-love to go out w-with you,” I force out, trying hard to control the quiver in my voice, adding, “Tomorrow night. If you're still interested.”

  His hazel eyes light up. “Great! I'll meet you at Starbucks.” He gives me one last smile, dimple included, and walks into the pot-banging kitchen. I sigh, letting my head fall to the table.

  What did I just do? I can't date anyone! My life is too messed up to have a boyfriend, especially one who's completely normal. Plus this was going to be my first date ever, and I didn't really know Mark. All I know is that he's in college, has to work to pay his way, and that he has a cute butt. That's it. That's all I know about Mark Hopkins.

  The feeling of regret weighs down on me—I can't help feeling like I've made a mistake.

  “Gracen.”

  I whip my head up at the sound of a male voice calling me. No, not calling me. It sounds as if the voice is inside my head. But that can't be right. With my eyes roaming the restaurant I see that I'm the only customer in the back. No one else is around.

  “Look out the window,” the voice urges, sounding desperate. I shift my gaze to the only window close by, and I see him. He's not right at the window, but across the street. Luckily my supernatural eyesight allows me to see him perfectly.

  The voice belongs to a teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He's pale and his hair is blonde, almost platinum, but not as light as my own. People pass him on the sidewalk, most likely seeing a normal boy dressed all in black, but I can see the difference in him. I can see the black coiled viper on his cheek, beckoning and calling me out. The Silver Eagle inside my soul awakens and I jump from the booth. My plan is to run out of the building and confront him, but I halt my steps as I watch him vanish into thin air, a power only a Night Viper harbors.

  Though he's out of sight he somehow speaks inside my head again.

  “I've found you,” he says in a deplorable fashion. “I've finally found you.”

  My heart skips a few beats, and for a moment I can't breathe. Not until Bets walks over and places a hand on my shoulder, bringing me back to reality.

  “Hey, what's up?” she inquires, smacking her bubblegum loudly.

  “I got to go,” I say without a glance at her, throwing a twenty dollar bill on the table.

  She groans. “Let me guess—your mommy called and you've got to come home right this second.”

  Pulling my leather jacket on I tell her, “Yeah, something like that. “ I walk quickly to the front of the restaurant, eager to search for the mysterious Night Viper. Bets follows close behind.

  “Are you and Mark—”

  “Yes, tomorrow night.”

  “Will you call—”

  “Yes!” I interject, turning around and giving her a quick hug. “I had fun today, but I've got to go. And yes, I'll let you in on everything.”

  She smiles, her teeth blindingly white against her red-stained lips. “You better,” she tells me. I force a smile and walk out the door, my body telling me that midnight's almost here.

  Once outside I
place my sunglasses on and start to run. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know where to look. All I know is I've got to find this Night Viper who knows my name and is apparently searching for me. My cell phone vibrates and I know it's Mom wondering where I am. Without reading it I send her a message of my own:

  Working solo tonight... will explain later.

  I search for him all night and all morning, but end up with nothing to show for it. When he had disappeared so had his scent, his essence, his being. I tried and tried to locate him but had failed to, which had me flustered. I've always been able to sense a Night Viper, but it was like I'd been blocked. And that meant this particular Night Viper was a strong one.

  When the sun breaks through the horizon I head for home. Climbing in bed, before falling into a deep, much needed sleep, I hear his sad voice again, ringing in my ears.

  “I've finally found you.”

  57

  Silver Mortal

  CHAPTER 5

  Taking a breath and putting my game face on, I stroll into the kitchen where Mom is busy in front of the sink, still wearing her robe. I know a lecture is inevitable about what I'd done last night, with no way of escaping it. She didn't think it was wise for us to go out and slay alone, so I know the text message I'd sent that read “working solo” was not going to fly. So when I walk into the kitchen I'm surprised when she begins talking in her normal, civil tone.

  “What time did you get in?” she questions with her back to me, working on some dishes in our over-stuffed sink.

  Shocked she isn't raising hell and screaming, I answer, “Around sunrise.” I grab an apple from the counter and take a huge bite. “You're not mad at me for wanting to work alone, are you?”

  She shrugs. “Nah. It was a slow night anyway.”

  “Yeah, that it was,” I remark, feeling a huge weight lift from my shoulders. I had been so sure she'd rip me a new one for wanting to work without her. I'm extremely stunned, but mostly relieved.