Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)

by Jenna Kay

  Ash backs away slowly, keeping his eyes on our enemies, and stands with us once again. With the pack leader gone, all the wolves look at each other, speaking in what Tink and Reagan called Hell's language. Then, as a whole, they begin to wail, their horrible cries quelling the night air. They aren't howling like werewolves usually do. It's more like they're calling out, searching for something.

  “What are they doing now?” I say, having to holler over their yawls.

  Ash glances back at me with a peculiar expression on his face, his black eyes wide. He's about to answer when the building starts to shake, causing the lights to flicker off, leaving the roof in total blackness. The air grows sticky and hot as lightning streaks the sky, turning the night to day for a split second. A mega-huge round of thunder rumbles, the sound almost deafening. The building shakes even harder, and I would have fallen if Phoenix hadn't been there with a tight hold on my elbow.

  When a loud caw caw rings in the air, along with the heavy beat of wings, I know right away that mother nature has nothing to do with this storm. The wind begins to blow harder, pushing us close to the edge of the roof.

  The demons are unfazed by the unnatural storm. They continue to glare at us with malicious grins on their hairy faces. Yes, werewolves can grin.

  “Holy crap!” I hear Tink shout out. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Phoenix!” yells Jack, “is that—”

  “Yes!” Phoenix confirms, cutting Jack off, his eyes strictly on the sky. I follow his gaze but only see lightning, followed by darkness, though for half a second I think I see something threading its way around the thunderbolts.

  “Could someone please tell me what's going on?!” I shout out, my frustration level rising. Another growl of thunder roars in our ears. Phoenix mutters something, but I'm unable to hear him.

  “Phoenix!” I yell, yanking his shirt and getting in his face. “What is it? What's up there?”

  His black eyes peer down at me, his lips drawn into a scowl.

  “Rainbird.”

  “Rainbird?” I repeat, confused. “What the freak is a Rainbird?”

  “A type of storm demon,” Ash explicates.

  “There are many types of storm demons,” Phoenix adds, his focus on the sky. “They can choose whatever form they want, and this one has chosen the form of a raven.”

  “One huge raven,” Jack points out.

  “So...basically it's about to storm.” I shake my head. “Why would they call out for such a creature?”

  On cue and answering my question, rain starts to pour in buckets. It pelts down on us like rocks falling from the sky; the kind of rain that leaves bruises all over your body. I peer up at the darkened sky, squinting my eyes in hopes of seeing this storm demon. When another round of lightning strikes I catch sight of the creature.

  As Jack expressed a few seconds before, this demon appears to be one huge raven. It's black with a wingspan of at least sixteen feet. Its loud caw once again echoes in the darkness as it circles us, weaving in and out of lightning. I stare up at the winged-demon, mesmerized by its presence, wondering how on earth something so graceful could come out of Hell. With the hard rain roughly slapping against my face, I continue to watch the Rainbird circle above, until Ash's yell grabs back my attention. Falling out of the storm demon's trance and crashing back down to reality, I see what the commotion is all about. Dread claws its way into my chest as I realize the werewolves have already begun their assault.

  They advance as a unit, except for one who decides to jump ahead of the others, its target the smallest of our group.

  Tink.

  Most likely the demon thinks she'll be easier to bring down. It gets the surprise of its miserable existence when Tink takes two silver daggers out of her knee-high boots. Before the werewolf can rip her apart, she takes the daggers and plunges them deeply into his chest.

  Letting out a painful death howl, the wolf demon explodes into a plume of gold dust, the hammering rain washing what's left of it away. Phoenix, with his axes raised, releases a battle cry and charges at the monsters, Ash right by his side. Reagan unfolds a silver-coated whip, snapping it at the monsters. Next to her Jack displays a machete that he had hidden under his trench coat, pointing it at the pack of demons.

  Reaching down and underneath the legs of my pants, I unstrap my bowie knifes, the image of the Silver Eagle on the blades glistening in the rain. With my weapons hot in my hands, poised for action, I feel the Eagle twitching inside me, scorching my blood with its power.

  As a group we move forward, the scene unfolding in slow motion, though reality would prove that we are moving faster than the human eye can perceive. The werewolves start falling one by one, their remnants of golden dust washing away in the plummeting rain. I take out two at a time, stabbing each in the heart and observing their deaths with satisfaction as they explode. With the adrenaline rush of the Eagle being freed, pumping through my veins, I see my entire world in the clearest tone imaginable. Plunging a knife in the eye of one, I cackle loudly, loving the terrified look in the demon's face right before it implodes. I'm about to slam into another when the earth begins to shake, only this time the quake sends us all flying backwards, landing hard onto the pebble-covered roof.

  All eyes, human and demon alike, look to the sky. Lightning strikes, illuminating the dark Rainbird, though another shape is closing in behind it—fast. A coarse shriek sounds through the air, so loud I feel like my eardrums may burst.

  When lightning fires up the sky once again, a chorus of gasps escapes from the lips of every being on the roof. One second we see the storm demon, the next we witness a large silver streak fly into the demon, obliterating it from the sky. We watch the silver streak as it continues to soar, reminding me of a fallen star, fading away as it disappears in the dark sky.

  With the Rainbird destroyed by...I'm not sure what, the rain stops immediately, giving way to clear skies. Tearing my eyes away from the air, I nod at Phoenix and everyone else as we set our sights on the distracted werewolves.

  The werewolves are still intrigued over what just happened in the skies, and we take advantage of the moment. Catching them off guard we attack, showing no mercy and holding nothing back. Reagan slings her whip, slicing one in half, while Jack decapitates another. Tink jumps and wraps her legs around a demons shoulders, stabbing the daggers in each of its ears.

  A few more jabs, slices, and stabs, and the roof is werewolf free. Jack hoots and hollers, high-fiving Phoenix, while Tink and Reagan congratulate each other with knuckle bumps. I turn to Ash, giving him a smile. To my horror he's running directly at me, his knife clenched in his hand. He's shouting something at me, but his words don't compute.

  Before I know what's going on Ash is running into me. As I fall I catch sight of a stray werewolf out of the corner of my eye. It's almost on us, until Ash throws his knife, embedding it into the demon's chest.

  I fall on my back, the air being knocked out of my lungs, followed by Ash landing next to me. The knife lands a couple feet from us, clanging to the ground. Stars flood my vision for a few seconds, but eventually clear. Phoenix's face comes into view, his feature twisted in concern.

  “Gracen, are you okay?” He reaches down and takes me by the hands, helping me to my feet.

  With my head feeling full of cotton I reply, “Y-Yeah, I think so.” Ash stands to his feet, dusting his clothes off. I stare at him in amazement; He notices.

  “What?” he inquires, elevating an eyebrow.

  “You saved me,” I say aloud, still a bit groggy from the fall. My head pounded and felt thick with cotton wool.

  He nods. “Yeah. So?”

  I swallow a hard ball of surprisal. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. And besides,” he squares his shoulders with mine, a bundle of nerves rolling off of him, “I have to. You're important. You're my—”

  His words are cut off as a loud, echoing clap of hands resonates through the air. Chill bumps shroud my entire body, every individu
al hair I possess standing on end. A static electricity hums all around us, my senses working on overdrive. Along with the clapping, a voice sounds, a voice I thought I'd never hear except in my dreams.

  “Bravo, my children. Bravo.”

  Spinning around my eyes find the voice. My eyes find him. He's standing on the other end of the roof with a smile on his face. The white-haired man from my dreams, the one who spawned nightmares. Ash's father...

  Alexander Edwards.

  Phoenix quickly steps in front of me in a defensive stance, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. His protectiveness over me is brimming over, spilling all over me. My chest is hurting, my breath coming in massive gasps, as fear clutches my insides.

  The other Vipers are on edge, their weapons poised for whatever happens next. I'm saddened to see that Ash's body is racked with tremors. He reaches for his back pocket, where his cigarettes are stashed, but his hand is shaking too much. The vibration of his body inhibits him from his self-medication.

  “I'm impressed with your fighting skills,” Alexander says, dusting off his black suit. “Five Vipers and one Silver Mortal fighting as one. An unstoppable force.”

  A black mist envelopes Alexander, who then appears just a few feet in front of Ash. The rest of us jump back, but Ash is too frightened to move. Alexander regards his son with disdain, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. His blackened eyes shine with a hint of banter.

  “Ashley, my son, why did you leave?” Alexander murmurs, his head tilting slightly.

  Ashley? What a minute...Ash's real name is Ashley? If so, then that means...

  “You're the Ashley from my dreams,” I state aloud, staring at the back of Ash's head.

  “I go by Ash,” Ash says, cutting into my thoughts, his focus staying sharp on his father.

  Alexander smirks. “Oh Ashley, don't you think it's time to come home?”

  “How did you find us?” Phoenix pushes in, snarling. His body is tight and rigid, readying himself for battle if need be.

  Alexander shifts his gaze to Phoenix, then to the sky. “Oh, it wasn't that hard.”

  A sound very familiar reverberates in my ears, the Silver Eagle inside my body cringing with unease. Powerful wing beats fill the air as Zavebe makes his appearance. He's wearing the same pin-striped suit he'd worn the night I'd first met him, and that same sinister power wavers in the air around him. He looks at me and grins, showing off his sharp teeth which are bright white against his black skin.

  “Hello, Gracen Potts,” Zavebe greets with a hiss, his large black wings flapping softly behind him.

  I take a step forward, though Phoenix keeps an arm in front of me, restricting me from going any farther.

  “We sent you back to Hell,” I tell Zavebe. He lets out an abrasive laugh.

  “Here's something you need to know about Hell,” he says, narrowing his black eyes, “The more darkness it can put out in the earth, the better. Hell cannot contain the savage beast that is I.”

  “Zavebe is a very close friend of mine. He led me to my son.” Alexander pauses, shifting his gaze to me. “And to my daughter.”

  My heart all but stops. What did he mean daughter?

  I don't have much time to ponder his words, because Jack disappears into a black mist, followed by Tink and Reagan. Before they vanish they're screaming in pain.

  Ash's body is shaking like a leaf as his dad takes him by the arm and says in a growl, “Time to come home, my boy.”

  “No!” Ash cries out as he vanishes along with his father.

  Zavebe starts toward Phoenix and I, his black claws outstretched as he lifts off the ground. The last thing I see is his three rows of teeth. The last thing I feel is Phoenix's arms around me.

  Then my world goes black.

  CHAPTER 19

  I open my eyes, finding that Phoenix has teleported us to my apartment...or what's left of my apartment.

  The front door has been busted down, leaving nothing but splinters. All the cabinets in the kitchen are ripped off the hinges, pots and pans are scattered all about, along with broken glass and plates. The kitchen table is flipped over, its matching chairs thrown across the room. Our television has also been busted, and our furniture ripped apart. Pictures and mirrors that used to line the walls now litter the floor, all broken and torn.

  Phoenix peers down at me, his eyes wide. “Gracen...”

  “Mom!” I say in a panic, running to her bedroom. To my despair I find her room looking like the rest of the small apartment—demolished. I then run to Jude's room. It has also been left in complete disarray.

  A rustling sound comes from my bedroom, but before I can inspect it, Phoenix grabs me around the waist. Once again I close my eyes as the black mists envelopes us, our feet no longer touching the ground. A second later I open my eyes. We have arrived at the Vipers warehouse, though Phoenix is pulling me toward a dark closet.

  Pushing me in he says, “Stay here. I'll make sure it's all clear.” He closes the door, leaving me in total darkness.

  With this moment of reprieve, I try to make sense of what's happened the past thirty minutes. The werewolf battle had been a success, even with the Rainbird showing up. And thinking about the Rainbird makes me think about the silver streak that took the Rainbird out. What had it been? Could it have possibly been the Silver Eagle aiding us in battle?

  I shake that nonsense from my head. The Eagle hadn't been around since it had landed on earth and chosen the people with the purest of hearts. But still, could it be a possibility?

  Then Alexander Edwards showed up, Ash's father and the one from my nightmares. Adding Zavebe to the mix...total insanity! But what got me is what Alexander had said, his voice ringing in my ears.

  “Zavebe is a very close friend of mine. He led me to my son. And to my daughter.”

  That last part gets to me, because when he'd said them, he was looking right at me. His implication that I was his daughter is completely laughable and certifiably deranged.

  Then after that, the Vipers began disappearing one by one...

  A shiver scampers up and down my spine. Feeling around in the dark I grab hold of a scratchy blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders. I try not to think of bugs or spiders that may live inside the closet.

  Once I warm up my thoughts go back to my apartment. The flipped-over kitchen table, broken glass everywhere, the whole place a beat up mess. The worst part...Mom and Jude were gone, leading me to believe they were kidnapped or dead. And someone had been in my room, possibly whoever had torn up the place. But before I could find out, Phoenix had grabbed me and now...

  Now I'm stuck in a dark closet, wrapped in an old scratchy blanket, waiting for Phoenix to make sure the coast is clear.

  What a hellacious night.

  Tears spill over my eyelids and down my cheeks, the nights events finally taking its toll. I feel completely drained of energy. Why did my life always have a switcheroo affect? As soon as one thing figures itself out, ten things go horribly wrong. I had finally accepted the fact that I was different, and I'd also accepted that Night Vipers had the freewill to choose if they wanted to be good or bad, but now...

  My world feels stark, especially not knowing where Mom and Jude are.

  Footsteps veer into my thoughts, the sound slapping hard against the concrete floor. Is it Phoenix? If not him, then who? What could I possibly do in my weakened state?

  When the door opens, I close my eyes and scream at the top of my lungs. Strong arms fold around my body, pulling me into a strong chest. The familiar scent of cologne mingled with cinnamon and young male greets my nose. I know right away that it's Phoenix.

  “Gracen, shhhhh,” he gently soothes, rocking me back and forth in his arms. “It's just me. It's all clear. You're alright. No one knows we're here. We're safe.”

  “No,” I mumble in his chest. “No, no, no! I'm not safe, you're not safe. No one's safe. We're all screwed! And they—they've got everyone!” The dam breaks loose, my tears soaking the front of his s
hirt. I hate this. All of it. Losing my loved ones, my new friends, and crying like a baby. This sucks.

  A few minutes of racking, earth-shattering sobs goes by, when finally the dam dries up. I can feel Phoenix's breath, his face buried in my hair. His soft breathing is a comfort to my overwrought nerves.

  “I'm not going to let them get you, Gracen,” he whispers softly. “I'll keep you safe, I promise. I'll die before they take you.”

  With a grunt, he picks me up off the ground, cradling me like an infant. I keep my head buried in his chest, not caring that he's helping me in my broken condition. I feel so weak, so lost. My home had been ransacked, Mom and Jude were gone. The Vipers had also been taken, possibly being tortured or worse, leaving Phoenix and I alone.

  I feel myself being lowered onto a bed, the itchy blanket being replaced with a satin comforter. In my head I conclude that Phoenix hasn't put me on a cot, but on Jack and Reagan's bed. The bed dents as he sits next to me. He caresses my face with his fingertips, then gently pushes hair out of my face. I open my eyes and gaze into his now dark brown eyes. He looks as tired as I feel; He looks as lost as I feel.

  “Where can they be?” I marvel in a pitiful voice.

  “I'm not sure,” he replies, “but we're going to find them.” He pauses, his gaze shifting to the windows where the first rays of light are filtering through.

  “We need to rest,” he tells me, his eyes back on me. “They will not venture out during the day. They are at their strongest at night.”

  I swallow down another sob that's threatening to erupt. A depression settles down on me, a weight so heavy just breathing is becoming hard work.

  “I can understand why Alexander would want you guys, but...” I pause, taking a deep, shaky breath and releasing it slowly. “But what does he want with my mom and Jude? What can he gain from taking them?”

  He shakes his head, then promises, “I don't know what his plans are, but I promise we'll get them back—all of them. I just need some time to think, to come up with some sort of plan.”