by Jenna Kay
OMG.
Now that the truth is out between us, what will happen? True, we've only known each other six days, but somehow I feel like I've known him my whole life. Did soul mates truly exist? Is love for real?
I'm about to crawl out of bed and head to the shower when he appears by my door.
“Oh, I almost forgot—”
“Phoenix!” I cry out, wrapping my blanket around my barely dressed body.
He laughs, turning around. “Oh, sorry about that. Hey, are you naked under that blanket?”
I walk up behind him and smack him on the back of his head. He yelps loudly and turns around, rubbing his head.
“To answer your question, no, I'm not naked.” I smile sweetly at him.
He raises an eyebrow. “Well, next time all you have to do is answer me. I can do without a headache.”
“Well,” I grin, placing a hand on my hip, “next time all you have to do is announce you're about to appear, so you don't see something naughty.”
He lifts his chin, then sighs. “Your right. I'm sorry. The only reason I came back was to tell you something important.”
“Oh,” I react with interest. “Well, in that case, what is it?”
“Not only am I taking you out for a bite to eat, but I'm also...” he pauses, grinning slyly, “going to introduce you to the others.”
Shocked, I stare at him in wonder, his words giving the term a feather could knock me over a whole new meaning. He grins, his eyes twinkling, and before I can give a retort, he vanishes.
CHAPTER 12
Taking a quick shower, throwing some clothes and shoes on, and pulling my damp hair back in a loose ponytail, I dash out of my room. Before I'm able to leave the apartment I startle mom and Jude, who are both sitting on the couch watching television.
“Where are you going?” I hear Mom call out behind me, but I'm already out the door.
“Out!” I shout back, slamming the door shut and practically flying down the apartment steps. The whole way down I think of what I'm going to say. In a way I'm excited to meet these Vipers, but in an entirely different way I want to punch Phoenix in the nose for dropping this really heavy bomb on me.
Crashing out the double doors of the building, I run straight into Phoenix. This time after ramming into him I don't bounce off his body; This time his arms wrap around my waist, keeping me from falling on my rump.
“Wow,” he murmurs, smiling. “I didn't know you'd be this excited to meet everyone.”
“I'm not,” I hiss, pushing off of him, “and frankly I'm not happy with the way you just threw meeting them in my face.”
His eyes widened. “Threw what in your face? You mean others like me?” He smoothly takes his cell phone from his pocket. “Well, I'll just call them up and cancel the plans. No problem.”
“No!” I shriek, smacking his arm. He gives me a curious look as he places the phone back in his pocket.
“No,” I say more calmly. “I want to meet them. It's just I woke up to you in my room this morning, we admitted that we like each other, and I was only wearing panties and a thin shirt with no bra, and—”
Suddenly he grabs my head and pulls me closer, shocking me with a kiss. My words, my anxiety over meeting the others, dissolves as I get lost in the most tender kiss I've ever experienced. Tension flows out of my body as his full lips move against mine, and I close my eyes so I can fully enjoy the closeness of our bodies. This is the closest I've ever been to anybody. Ten seconds later, maybe more, he breaks the kiss. I smile, exhilaration sweeping throughout my body, and I almost forget that we're standing in the middle of the sidewalk with people and cars traveling by. When a car horn blares loudly, I pop open my eyes. Phoenix is gazing down at me, giving me an easy and relaxed grin.
“I wanted to do that the first day I met you.” When I don't respond he questions, “You're not going to punch me for doing that, are you?”
Breathlessly I reply, “Quite possibly.” He laughs.
“Well, if you did, it would still be worth it.”
I blush, not knowing what to say to that.
“Ready?” he asks.
Still a little baffled and dazed by the kiss I reply, “Uh-huh.” I'm still blushing, and I realize I must sound like a complete moron.
“Then let's go,” he says, walking a couple of steps backward, biting his bottom lip while his dark eyes gaze at me. I stalk after him.
“Where are we going?” I question, catching up to him.
He turns forward, nudging my shoulder playfully. “To Tony's, of course!”
***
Twice in one week I find myself going through the doors of Tony's Breakfast Bar, only this time Phoenix is by my side instead of waiting for me to show. It's not as crowded as last time. I guess most New Yorkers don't want to eat at a greasy breakfast bar at four in the afternoon. And, just like before, we head to the farthest booth in the back, my mind spinning.
In one week I'd met a fallen angel, went on my first date (which had bombed), found out that Night Vipers do have a choice to be good or bad, dusted a few Trolls alongside Phoenix, been teleported for the very first time, and then passionately kissed in front of my apartment building.
Yes, a tiring yet exciting week for me! And the fun would keep coming, since I was about to meet the other rebel Vipers in town.
The booth in the very back comes into view, holding three people, and my heart wedges in my throat, beating triple time. With my nerves getting the best of me, I grab hold of Phoenix's arm, halting his steps. He peers down at me, perplexed.
“What's wrong?” he queries with an eyebrow raised.
I gulp anxiously as I look up at him. I don't think I've ever been this nervous in my life! What's wrong with me? The word coward has never been part of my vocabulary, so why am I acting the part of one now?
“What if they don't like me?” There, my true fears are out. I shouldn't care if they like me or not, but the truth is I do care.
He shows off a sideways grin.
“You have nothing to worry about, and besides...” He leans over and whispers in my ear. “I like you.” He winks and my face flushes for the umpteenth time since I've met him.
We start moving again, making our way to the others, giving me a good look at them. The guy grabs my attention first. His skin is tanned, just like Phoenix, but his head is shaved slick, the restaurant lights reflecting off its brilliant shine. He looks up at us as we approach, and I see that his eyes are dark green, and even though he's sitting down I can tell he's a big guy. Not fat, but tall with insanely huge muscles.
The girl sitting adjacent to baldy catches my attention next. She looks to be around my age, maybe older, with long purple hair and black-stained lips. Her bright blue eyes are observing me closely, piecing straight through me. And the girl sitting across the table from the other two looks a little younger, and she's...
Sliding out of the booth with a gigantic smile on her face.
“Hey Gracen, it's nice to finally meet you!” She extends a tiny hand forward. “I'm Tina, but please call me Tink.”
I take Tink's hand and give it a shake, discreetly looking over her appearance. She's definitely the youngest in the group, maybe thirteen. She's short and slender, with dark eyes, dark skin, and black curly hair. Her sweet smile makes her look so innocent, so pure, even with the black viper peeking out just below her skin.
“It's nice to meet you, too, but,” I regard her with interest, “why do they call you Tink?”
Dropping my hand she points at the Tinker Bell image on her t-shirt. “I'm a mega-huge Tinker Bell fan—always have been. And the name Tina brings back way too many memories of my past, so...” She lets her words trail off, her gaze shifting to her feet.
“Oh,” I murmur, nodding my head as comprehension floods my thinker. “Well, Tink is a pretty cool name, if you ask me.” She lifts her eyes from the floor, apparently pleased by my compliment.
“Really?” she says, grinning. “Thank you so much!”
Someone at the table clears their throat, drawing our attentions.
“Aren't you going to introduce us, Phoenix?” the girl with purple hair remarks, shooting him a pointed look.
“Um, yeah,” Phoenix responds, gently pushing me forward. “Gracen, this is Reagan, and the strapping young man next to her is Jack.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Jack greets, shaking my hand roughly from across the table. Then Reagan lifts up her delicate hand.
“Charmed I'm sure,” she says haughtily. I take hold of her fingerless gloved hand, shaking it once.
“It's nice to meet you guys,” I tell them sincerely, my nerves grinding together in my chest.
“Here,” Phoenix motions for Tink to slide in the booth, followed by me. “Let's have a seat and talk a little.”
We settle in the booth, Tink on the inside, me in the middle, and Phoenix on the end. An uneasy silence wraps around our table, causing me to believe that I'm not the only one here that's nervous. Across from us Jack drums his meaty fingers on the table's surface, while Reagan blows huge pink bubbles of gum, popping them with her long black nails. Turning slightly to my left I find that Tink is still grinning from ear to ear, her eyes gazing at me with expectancy. To my right I notice Phoenix staring down at his entwined hands. His mood has shifted from contentment to aggravation, and I have no idea why.
All in all, the introductions went smoothly, though taking a quick look around the table has reality dumping heavy loads of cognition right on top of my entire being. Me, a Silver Mortal, is sitting in a booth with four Night Vipers, the snake marks on their cheeks taunting me, reminding me of who they are. Never in my life did I think I'd be making nice with this group, let alone kissing one of them.
Oh, and what a kissed it had been! Though I'm a bit surprised with myself for letting it happen. I've only known Phoenix a few days now and we'd kissed. Not to mention the fact that he's supposed to be an enemy to my kind.
Well, I've never thought of my life as normal, so why try now?
“Where's Ash?” Phoenix questions quietly, his tone on the coarse side. Tink stiffens next to me, while Jack and Reagan exchange wary glances.
“He didn't want to come,” Jack replies, avoiding eye contact with Phoenix.
“Yeah,” Reagan backs up Jack. “He told us that he wasn't ready to meet...” Her gaze travels over to me. “Her.”
That's right! I'd forgotten about the blonde Viper. I'd been so distracted and anxious about meeting them that I'd failed to notice that one was missing.
“Is Ash the blonde?” I pry.
“Yes,” Tink answers bitterly, “and he's also a big a—”
“Tink!” Reagan warns, shaking a finger at her. “Watch your potty mouth.” I stare at Reagan inquisitively, and she adds, “Sorry about that. Tink is the youngest and I'm the only roll model she has. Until now, that is.” She smirks, and I know right then and there that I'd have to keep an eye on her—and watch my language.
Jack notices the staring match Reagan and I are in the middle of, so he cuts into the strange peer-off. “So, Phoenix here tells us that you're quite the fighter.”
I shrug, my self-esteem dipping a little. “Yeah, I guess. I have only been at it for three years now.”
“Three years?” Reagan jabs out, sounding amazed. “You mean you didn't train when you were younger?”
I shake my head. “No. My mother left me to live with my grandma until I became mature enough to get my powers. I was thirteen when I received my Silver Mortal gifts.”
“Wow, my age!” Tink exclaims, her eyes full of wonder and child-like amazement.
“You mean,” Jack began, scratching the side of his bald head, “that you weren't born with the gift?”
“I was born with it,” I quickly clarify. “But Silver Mortals don't fully receive their powers until they, um, well...” I drag off, my face burning with abashment. I couldn't bring myself to say it in front of complete strangers, though it doesn't stop Reagan from blurting it out.
“Oh, I get it!” she cries out, breaking into a wide grin. “You had to start your monthlies before getting your, um, powers, right?” I nod, too embarrassed at where the conversation is heading, though I know she's not when she puts in, “Thirteen, huh? That's pretty old to start getting monthlies. I guess you were just a late bloomer.”
With a flaming red face I mumble out, “Yeah, I guess.” Just when I think the period talk is over, Tink chimes in.
“That is old! I mean, I was ten when I started getting my monthlies.” She grins up at me innocently. I smile slightly, nodding my head.
The table goes quiet once again, thanks to the talk about my menstrual cycle, or what Reagan and Tink called monthlies, putting a strained damper on our little group. Luckily with Tink's young, undeterred mind, she tries to start up the conversation again, and I inwardly pray she leaves out all the girlie, private topics.
“Phoenix told us that one day we'd be able to hunt together. Is that true?” That expectant gleam in her eyes is back, eagerly awaiting my response. I smile down at her.
“Actually, we—” My words are cut off as Phoenix interrupts.
“We can't go out without Ash,” he tells the group, his tone stern. “We have to stay together and until Ash decides to cooperate you all have to stay hidden.”
“But that's totally unfair!” Reagan expresses, her black lips twisting into a frown. “You're going to school, fighting demons—when do we get our turn?”
“Yeah,” Jack pushes in heatedly. “I'm tired of hiding. I'm ready to burn off some energy, ya know what I'm sayin'? Dust some demons and send their sorry arses back to Hell!”
“Jack!” Reagan hisses, cutting her eyes to Tink, then back to him. “Watch your language.”
He rolls his eyes. “Sorry. What I meant to say is send their sorry tails back to Hell.”
Reagan smiles, smacking his cheek lightly. “That's much better.”
“No,” Phoenix mutters next to me.
“No?” Jack replies. “What are you saying, Phoenix?”
Phoenix leans his elbows on the table, staring intently at Jack and Reagan. “First of all, about me going to school—you guys voted for me to go and check it out, and I've only been doing that a week. And second, I've only dusted demons one night this week, and thirdly...”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me from keeping up with their back and forth. Thinking it's mom calling to check up on me, I'm taken back by who the caller truly is.
Mark.
What's he calling about? It had been a couple days since he'd called last, and I hadn't answered any of them. Had he not taken the hint? If you call and call somebody and they never pick up, isn't that proof enough they don't want to speak to you?
Laying the phone on the table, I decide to let it ring, figuring he'd eventually give up. I try to catch up on the Vipers back and forth, but the phone's continuous vibration breaks my concentration. Just when I think he's given up, the screen lights up again, his name flashing on and off. Reagan notices the vibration of the table, looking down at my jiggling phone.
They become quiet when Reagan points at the cell and asks, “Aren't you going to answer that?”
I shake my head, answering, “No, it's not important.”
“Oh yeah?” Before I can stop him, Phoenix grabs the phone. Reading the name on the screen, he gives me a questioning glare. “Who's Mark?”
I try to grab the phone from him, but he holds it out of reach, so I give up and sigh. “He's just a guy I know. We went on one date. Nothing serious.” Not now, anyway, but at the time...
“Um, Gracen?” Reagan says with a hint of worry in her voice.
“Yeah?”
“What does this Mark guy look like?”
“Why are you asking me that?” What, did she want a date or something?
When her gaze shifts up and behind me, my blood grows cold and my heart skips. Turning around I almost scream.
CHAPTER 13
My heart automatically falls into my stomach when Mark comes into view. He's standing just a couple of feet from the booth, his phone held at his ear. A look of hurt crosses his face, his eyes darkened with extreme shock. Then his expression changes to one I never thought would cross his sweet face.
Rage.
“M-Mark,” I stutter, “how long have—”
“Doesn't matter now.” He slaps his phone shut, adding, “You were never going to answer anyway.”
“Wait, let me explain,” I tell him imploringly, but he turns around and walks away. Before I can stop myself I slide out of the booth, taking Phoenix with me and knocking him out in the process.
“Oof!” Phoenix lets out, and I'm horrified at myself for pushing him onto the floor.
“Oh my—Phoenix! I'm so sorry!” I reach down and grab his left elbow, pulling him to his feet in one swift movement. His stunned expression is almost funny, if it had been a different situation.
Backing away from him and the others I whisper, “Sorry.” I spin on my heels and head after Mark.
Running out the doors of the restaurant I spot Mark walking quickly down the overcrowded sidewalk. His strides are long, walking briskly, and his hunched shoulders tell me that he's pissed, and rightly so. He'd just caught me sitting next to another guy, not to mention he witnessed me ignoring his phone calls. He'd actually seen me staring at my phone and purposely not answering.
“Mark!” I shout, having to fight through the herd of New Yorkers. I ignore the profanities and catcalls being slung my direction. That's an everyday occurrence, anyway.
Abruptly he stops and turns around, rubbing a hand through his rumpled hair. I stop a few feet away, trying my best to be calm and to sedate the insane pulsation of my rhythmic heart. Since I'm closer to him now I can see a different boy—man—in front of me. His jeans are torn and holey, his gray long-sleeved shirt is wrinkled, like he'd been wearing it for days. His usually shaved face is riddled with a few days stubble, making him look five years older.