Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)

by Jenna Kay

  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 heckuva 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 feel 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 o
ff 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.

  So with that one important thought rambling through my discombobulated thinker, I'd decided to tell Mom everything that's happening as soon as I arrived home. I know that if anyone can handle this mega-sized situation, it would be Ellen Potts.

  “Mom!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “I've got to tell you som— ”

  The end of my sentence gets pulled into another dimension, keeping me from finishing my greeting. The book bag in my hand slowly slides from my grip, falling to the floor, as my eyes take in Mom and Jude sitting at the kitchen table, along with a visitor.

  Phoenix Brooks.

  How had he found me? Found out where we lived? This is a little more than creepy, and so was the innocent smile on his face. Even from my vantage point I can see the black viper on his cheek. How is Mom and Jude able to sit in his presence with that gazing at them the whole time?

  The four of us stare at each other, obviously not knowing what to do or say next. The whole scene has me on top of the confused mound. I never thought my mother would ever, in a billion years, let a Viper cross the threshold of our private home. I'm hugely surprised that Phoenix is still wearing his head!

  A few tense-filled seconds pass before mom clears her throat and says, “Yes, Gracen. We need to talk.” I don't move. Not until Phoenix speaks.

  “Come on and have a seat,” he tells me, patting the empty chair next to him. “I promise I won't bite.” Following that remark he winks at me and grins, showing off his dazzling white teeth.

  In the past a comment and a wink like that one would've angered me. Instead of fury I feel that same warmth hit my belly, my face covering with a scorching blush. Pulling my frozen feet from the floor I quickly walk over and plop down in the chair, my eyes watching the floor the whole way. I don't know why, but I'm feeling uncertain and bashful, and I hate it. To not have the confidence and certainty I need in the world would conclude that I'm weak and I so didn't want them to think of m
e like that.

  Slowly I lift my eyes, first looking at Phoenix, then at Jude, and lastly at Mom. A shiver slides down my spine when I see the look of concern in her gray eyes. That look meant that she's stressing and is about to get down to business. Sometimes that's a good thing, only today I'm not so sure it's all good.

  “Gracen, Phoenix has told us his story,” she starts, getting straight to the point. “He has informed us the two of you met yesterday, and that you also know his circumstances and the circumstances of the other Vipers—is that right?” Her stare is as hard as her tone. I can't tell if she's mad at me for not telling her about Phoenix, or mad because a Viper is sitting at her kitchen table, or both. Probably both.

  “It's true,” I respond lightly, adding, “but I also told him there was nothing we could do for them. But he didn't listen!” Turning to Phoenix with my eyes glaring full blast I say, “I told you to stay off the radar. Why can't you get that through your thick skull? Our kinds do not mix company! I tried to—”

  “That's enough!” Mom interjects sternly, causing me to clam up and whip my head toward her. “Yes, as a group, Silver Mortals and Night Vipers are enemies, but this,” she lifts her chin toward Phoenix, “is a different case. He has searched us out, asking for help, and I know he's sincere. He's telling us the truth. He and the other runaways need guidance, and we are going to help them.”

  I snort, laughing out loud. “How do you know that he's sincere?”

  “Because,” she replies, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, “the same way you know he's sincere.” Opening her eyes she adds, “We both share that same discerning power, Gracen. We both can feel the truth.” I start to offer a rebuttal, but nothing comes to mind. She's right. We both know he's telling the truth, and we both know he's feeling lost and afraid.

  “Phoenix,” Jude says, his voice cutting through the awkwardness between my mother and I, “before we can decide anything, Ellen and I will have to get in touch with fellow Mortals—for advice. And we also need to find out if there is others like you wanting to change.” He rubs a hand through his curly red hair, a gesture that I've always seen as an anxious trait. “This is—I've never heard of anything like this before. Please understand we have to take precautions. We've tangled with some vicious Vipers before. It may take awhile for us to, uh...trust.”