Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles)

by Jenna Kay

  Though in a Silver Mortal's world, nothing stays the way it should.

  ***

  Heart pounding. Mind racing. Legs pumping. Darkness all around me, a chill so abstruse it seeps through my skin and freezes my soul. Where am I? Why am I running? What am I running from?

  “It's you I want, Gracen. Only you.”

  The jarring voice reminds me of why I'm fleeing. Of what I'm fleeing from. It's him. Alexander. My father. His laughter echoes all around me. I keep moving, pushing my legs harder, faster.

  A light. I see a light! Up ahead. A surge of relief floods through me, and I think maybe, just maybe, it will be my key to freedom. There's a light at the end of this blackened tunnel. If I can reach it, I can get away.

  I'd be free.

  But wait...what's that?

  It's Ash! At the end of the tunnel. I know it's him. His blonde hair is shiny, a halo of light covering his crown. He's on his knees and it sounds like he's weeping. His shoulders are slumped as if he's given up. As if he's defeated.

  I can help him! I can get him away from Alexander. We can be free.

  We all can.

  Reaching Ash I fall to my knees and grab his shoulder, turning him to face me.

  “Got you,” Alexander whispers, his hand squeezing mine.

  I begin to scream and...

  “Gracen...Gracen...Gracen!”

  My eyes fly open and I sit up with a jerk. With the strange dream still fresh in my mind it takes me a minute to remember where I am. When Phoenix's concerned face materializes in front of me, that's when I remember.

  I'm at a warehouse, his home, sleeping in Jack and Reagan's bed. It's dark outside, the yellow light from an outside lamppost filtering in through the dirty windows.

  “W-What is i-it?” I stutter, my eyes wide in the dark room.

  “You were screaming,” he tells me, wiping a sweat-soaked strand of hair out of my face. “Did you have another dream?”

  “Yes,” I mumble, fighting shivers that begin to attack my body.

  Studying me with acute concentration he inquires, “Did it tell you anything?”

  I nod and again whisper, “Yes.”

  “What did it tell you?”

  I look him straight in the eyes. “Alexander said he only wants me.”

  An anguished expression paints his face, mirroring the way I feel. Abruptly he crushes me into him, kissing the top of my head. His protectiveness and affection wraps around me like a warm blanket made of pure love. I twine my arms around his waist, listening to the fast beat of his heart. I know what he's about to say, and I'm wishing he wouldn't say it, but he has to.

  And he does.

  “It's almost midnight,” he says quietly, leaning back to peer me fully in the face. “It's time to go.”

  We start packing up our weapons. Phoenix had been able to get knifes, throwing stars, and a few flares. He'd also retrieved my Katana, which I secure tightly to my back. I strap my bowing knifes around my calves, underneath my jeans, and fill my pockets with a few Shurikens. I pull my hair into a tight ponytail, while he fastens his battle axes to a belt around his waist. He carries a black leather bag with the flares and extra knifes.

  We are ready to go to Botis Island.

  “Be ready to encounter Sniffers,” he informs me. “They guard the island and are pretty easy to handle. You'll be able to take them.”

  “Okay,” I say nervously.

  We face each other when the clock strikes midnight. Phoenix watches my transformation with amazement, his gaze settling on my silver eyes.

  “Before we go, promise me one thing,” he whispers in a sad tone.

  “Anything,” I whisper back.

  He takes my face in his hands. “Don't change. Ever.”

  He leans down and gives me a kiss, a soft, tender touch that burns through my veins and curls my toes. With his lips stuck on mine, his arms folded around my waist, darkness envelops us as we begin our journey to Botis Island.

  CHAPTER 22

  Arriving on Botis Island I'm unable to suppress the gasp that explodes from my mouth. I can't believe what my eyes are seeing.

  The area is a wasteland of death. The ground, the trees, everything is blackened and scorched, the scent of fire and brimstone dominating the dry, humid air, along with blood and decay. Waves crash onto the rocky shore, the water thick and red. The sky above us is darkened with flashes of lightning here and there, followed by rumbles of thunder. Putting all of the scenery together paints a picture of evil, of what the truth holds about this place.

  A place of pure torture and intense fear.

  In the distance I can see a large black mountain made of rock. It appears alive, demons of all sorts, shapes, and sizes squirming all over its surface. Many circular holes in the rocky edifice serve as windows, reminding me of a beehive with demons writhing around. Flickers of yellow light shine from these holes. Growls of hate and screams of pain can be heard flying through the sticky air. I'm not sure if the ones screaming are human or

  inhuman. Probably a little of both. A churning cloud of gray smoke hovers over the mountain peak, shrouding any type of light that may try to penetrate through.

  “Welcome to Hell,” I hear Phoenix mumble next to me. Glancing up at him another gasp emerges from my lips. His eyes have changed to the color of black ink, and the lips that had just kissed me are twisted into a vicious snarl. The black viper on his face has lifted above his skin, the edges turning a bright red.

  “Phoenix,” I say cautiously. My mouth sews shut when his black orbs shoot to me, unblinking. This is a side of him I haven't seen until today. Even when he'd gotten angry at Billy Stanton, the anger from that day could not compare to this. The fury and rage he's feeling right now is enough to make the Eagle inside me nervous.

  “It looks the same,” he murmurs, stirring his gaze back to the huge rock mountain. “Smells the same, feels the same. Same pain, same torture, same oppression, same heaviness.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out, his nostrils flaring. “This is the place nightmares come true. And you're lucky if you survive.”

  I place a hand on his arm. “It must have been terrible for you. First losing your parents, then being sent here, only being ten years old.” I pause, lifting my eyes to the huge black rock, then back to him. “You must have been so scared.”

  He turns his gaze on me, his black eyes piercing through me. There's a haunted glint in them, making me wonder what they had done to him so many years ago.

  Gently, he shrugs out of my grasp and says, “We better get moving. Just follow my steps and try not to make noise. They most likely already know we're here, and I wouldn't be surprised if they've released the Sniffers.”

  Without another word he turns around and starts heading toward the rock mountain. I want to tell him I'm sorry about everything that happened to him, about bringing the whole mess up, but I decide to let it go. We are heading to the proverbial lion's den and neither one of us knows if we'll ever see the light of day again.

  I follow close behind him, careful to step exactly where he steps. The ground is rough and uneven, causing me to almost face plant to the ground a few times. At one time there must have been woodlands, but now only their charred stumps remain. Thick vines are scattered underneath the scorched landscape. In my head I piece together that the vines represent the veins and arteries of the island, keeping it alive by pumping wicked blackness to its heart.

  This place is unusual and hard to put in exact words. I've never seen an island as disturbing as this one. If I lived through this and ever felt the need to write horror flicks, I'd start off using Botis Island as my muse.

  As we climb up the mountain toward Botis's lair, the air becomes heavier and harder to breathe. The stench of death and sewage is getting worse with each uneven step. My mouth is super dry, so I pull out a bottle of water and take a gulp, the cool liquid feeling heavenly as it slides down my throat. I'm about to ask Phoenix if he'd like some, but before I can he halts his steps, his arm
shooting out in front of me. His head tilts to the side and he sniffs the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my supernatural intuition spiking.

  “We're being followed,” I say out loud, though I'd meant to keep it in my head.

  “No,” Phoenix says softly. “We're being stalked.”

  In a blur of motion, he pushes me to the ground. At the same time he slings two knifes behind me, twin howls of pain following after, filling the night air and dying out quickly. I turn around just in time to see two Hell Hounds burn a bright red, then fade to dust. A gust of wind blows away their remains.

  Before they had turned to dust I'd been able to get an eyeful of their disgusting appearance. They had stood on four legs, though they had to be at least five feet tall. Their hair had been black and wiry, their teeth sharp and white, and their eyes a glowing bright red. They were everything I'd imagined Satan's favorite pets would look like.

  “Are you okay?” Phoenix rushes out, helping me back to my feet.

  “Yeah,” I reply, shaking the cobwebs from my brain. I'm still in shock by the sudden intrusion of Sniffers.

  He checks me over, his concerned expression warming my heart and instantly settling my nerves. After making sure I'm alright, he walks over to where the Hell Hounds had just been and recovers the knifes.

  “We'll need to be ready for more,” he advises me, keeping the knifes in his hands. “Their death cries most likely alerted the whole island. More are probably on the way.”

  “So we need to keep moving,” I finish for him, pulling out my water and taking another swig. The humidity on this island is making my mouth extra dry.

  He smiles slightly, nodding his head. “The faster we find them, the faster we can get off this wretched island.” I hand the bottle of water to him, where his finishes it off, throwing the empty bottle to the ground.

  “Litter much?” I question, my eyebrows raised.

  “Look around,” he decrees, gesturing to the diseased landscape. “Do you really think a water bottle will do any damage?”

  I smile. “You have a point.”

  He walks passed me and grins. “Come on. Let's keep moving.”

  Again we find ourselves trekking up the mountain. As we get closer the lightning becomes more frequent, along with the sound of thunder. Wind begins strewing debris, making it hard to see in front of us. My eyes burn with the dirt and dust swirling around me. When a loud caw caw rings through the air, we freeze in our tracks. Peering up at the sky, squinting through the debris storm, I can make out a huge raven. The Silver Eagle stirs within me as I pull my Katana out, bracing for battle.

  “Another Rainbird?” I question, having to holler over the tornado-like winds.

  “Yep,” Phoenix replies, keeping his eyes on the incoming threat. “Though it can't make it rain here. All it can do is stir up the trash on the island and cause harsh winds.” He gazes down at me, his expression serious. “They know we're here. It's time to pick up the pace.”

  With those last words uttered, we start running up the mountain, pushing through the dust-filled air. I try my best to keep up with Phoenix, but with the Rainbird tossing all the deadness around, it's hard to accomplish. He stops and grabs my hand, pulling me behind him. My eyes can't help but look to the skies, the mega-huge Rainbird continuing its loud cawing and annoying windstorm.

  Finally we make it to the base of the lair, only to find ourselves surrounded by Hell Hounds. There has to be at least a hundred of them. They're all growling and snarling, baring their vicious teeth. The smell of fire and sulfur fill my nostrils completely, causing me to gag. Phoenix and I stand back to back, walking in a circle, weapons raised. Whatever happens we're not going down without a fight.

  “Phoenix, what now?” I question, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

  Growling he answers, “Start swinging!”

  And that's what we do.

  We charge, taking as many Sniffers down as we can. With each swipe of my sword I take down as many as possible. But there's too many for a Silver Mortal and a Night Viper to handle. When the ground begins to shake and wing beats sound through the air, I know that we are in trouble. Something hits me in the back of the head, the sharp pain shooting throughout my body. As my world turns black I hear Zavebe's laughter and the beat of his wings.

  ***

  I wake up on a hard, wet surface, my hands tied behind my back. Scanning my surroundings I see I'm in some sort of jail cell, complete with iron bars. It's dark and smells like mildew. I force myself into a sitting position, looking to my left and then to my right. Orange light from torches filter in through barred windows, casting an eerie glow all around me. That's when I realize I'm not alone.

  In the next jail cell lies my mother, her hands also tied behind her back. Her clothes are ripped and bloodied. To my horror it appears that she's been whipped on her back. A slight moan echoes in the air, her shoulders trembling along with her weeping. I scoot closer to the bars, as close as I can get.

  “Mom,” I say softly. “Mom, can you hear me?”

  Her body stiffens at the sound of my voice. She turns her head, her silver eyes wide and searching, her emotions full of despair.

  “Gracen?” she calls out, her voice bouncing off the rock walls. “Is that you, honey?”

  “Yeah, I'm here, Mom,” I assure her. I try loosening the ropes that have my hands trapped, but whoever tied me up had to be a master at bondage. “Is there a way to get out of here?”

  “Through the doors,” she answers sardonically, coercing herself into a sitting position. “But I have a feeling they won't let us leave.”

  When I catch a glimpse of her face I inhale sharply, shocked by her defeated appearance.

  “Mom, you look terrible.” Actually, more like deathly ill. There's heavy dark bags under her eyes, her skin is a grayish color. She's covered in dirt, grime, and bruises. She also smells of vomit. That certain scent reminds me that she'd been sick right before I'd left to go out with the Vipers.

  She scoots closer to the bars. “I feel terrible as well.”

  “You're still sick?”

  “Yes,” she says, adding, “among other things.”

  “Where's Jude, and the others?”

  She lets out a deplorable sigh. “I don't know.”

  A few minutes of worn down silence fills the space between us. She knows that I know the secret she's been keeping from me. Now was the time for me to get some answers.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” I inquire, glaring at her. “Why didn't you tell me Alexander is my father?”

  She grimaces at the sound of his name, then her lips draw into a frown. Her emotions drift over from her jail cell to mine, crashing me with feelings of regret, sorrow, humiliation, and pain.

  “I didn't tell you because I wanted to protect you from the truth.”

  “You still should've told me,” I mutter angrily. She releases a long sigh.

  “When I was sixteen,” she begins, her eyes staring off into the empty air, “my father and I, your grandfather, came across a dangerous man. A Night Viper with white hair.” She pauses, her gaze wandering back to me. “You see, even at a young age Alexander had white hair, and eyes the color of the deep blue sea. The bluest eyes I'd ever seen—until you were born, that is.

  “He'd had a group of loyal werewolf demons with him. Me and dad were outnumbered. We fought long and hard, taking as many of those bastards as we could, but I lost all hope when they got your grandfather.” She bites back a sob. “I kind of just gave up. That was when Alexander called off his pack of demons and took me away.

  “We ended up somewhere in France, and he kept me locked up in his private villa. I was trapped there for three months, and in between that time he tried to woo me.” She laughs spitefully. “He thought he could trick me into falling in love with him, but I never did. I saw through all of his affections and tender lies. After all, us Silver Mortals can practically see the emotions rolling off of people.

  “
In the end, he only wanted one thing, and when I didn't comply, he took it anyway.”

  A heavy stone falls to my stomach. “You mean he...” I didn't want to say the words.

  Mom nods. “Yes. Gracen, he raped me. Over...and over...and over again. He took great satisfaction in taking a Silver Mortal's virginity, not caring what damage he was doing to my body. He would've kept me forever, or until he tired of me, until one day his cleaning service came to the villa and I escaped in their van.”

  She shudders, her mind assaulting her with unwanted memories. “I made it back to America, got back to North Carolina, and six months later you were born on New Year's Day.”

  Tears pool in my eyes. “Mom, I'm so sorry you went through that. Losing grandpa, then losing your freedom… You are the strongest woman I know.”

  A tear trickles down her bruised, pale face. “The past is the past, baby. And while it was torture at the time, I don't regret going through it. And I don't regret having you.”

  “Wow,” I mumble, shaking my head. “The reason I'm here...I'm the product of rape. Fan-freaking-tastic.”

  “Don't say that,” she orders me, narrowing her eyes. “Don't ever think of yourself as a mistake, because you have a purpose in this life. No one is a mistake.”

  I can't contain the tears that fall down my face. “But you abandoned me. You left me with granny until I was thirteen—”

  “I didn't know if you'd have any powers!” she states defensively. “I've never heard of a half Eagle, half Viper. I didn't know what to expect. I always thought that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have supernatural powers. I prayed night after night that you would be normal, that you wouldn't have to live life slaying demon after demon. I didn't want you to live life always looking over your shoulder, and wondering if your friends and family would stay safe and protected from the unseen world.” She pauses and takes a breath. “I didn't abandon you—I gave you a secure life, a safe life. Though as fate would have it, that life wasn't for you. You, Gracen, you are special. And Alexander knows it.”