by Jenna Kay
“What about my brother, Ash?” I ask her curiously. “Did you know his mother?”
She shakes head. “I didn't, though I know she was a Night Viper. And knowing how Alexander treats women, she was expendable. He probably did away with her after Ash was born.”
Her answer makes sense. Alexander is not only the most evil and cruelest man on the face of the planet, but he's also a womanizing piece of crap.
“He wants me,” I say, recalling my last dream. “Why do you think he does?”
“I'm not sure,” she says, her tone soft. “But knowing him it's about power and authority. As far as I know, you're the only Halfling in the world.”
Another thought occurs to me. “If I'm a Halfling, or whatever, then why am I all Silver Mortal? I don't have the black eyes or the coiled viper on my face.”
“No,” she's quick to respond, “but you have major anger issues. Your anger makes you see red, the color of wrath, bloodshed, violence. Ever since you received the gifts of the Silver Eagle, you've had to deal with rage. I've always been able to calm you down just by talking to you.”
Deep down I know she's right. I don't like it, but she's right.
“You've always helped to calm me down, but lately it's been Phoenix who helped tame my fury.” A smile graces my lips as an image of him crosses my mind. “He can just look at me a certain way and I melt.”
Mom studies me a moment. “Your emotions, your feelings are telling me how you truly feel.” She tilts her head to the side, stating, “You love him.”
I think about her words, hesitating before admitting, “Yeah...yeah, I think I do.”
Mom doesn't say anything to that. Instead she gives me a sad smile, and again we find ourselves in strained silence, not knowing what to say, what to think, or what to do. Lightning flashes outside the bars, following with howling wind and rolling thunder. Sitting here in a darkened jail cell, knowing the truth about who I am, knowing my mom had been taken advantage of, makes my thoughts turn vengeful.
Mom isn't the only one who's been traumatized by Alexander Edwards. Phoenix had, too, as well as my brother, Ash. There's also the Vipers I've met—Jack, Reagan, and precious Tink, not to mention Jude, who has been like a brother to me.
“Do you have any idea where the others could be?” I ask, trying to control the volume of my rising voice.
A defeated sigh rolls off her lips. “I have no clue, but Gracen,” she gives me a pointed look, “there's something else you need to know.”
“W-What?” I query, not liking the weary tone of her voice.
She swallows before she replies, “They have Mark, your friend.”
I feel like all the breath has been knocked out of me. Mark. Why would they go after Mark? He's just an innocent, normal guy trying to make it in this big bad world. Why did Alexander think it necessary to kidnap an Untouched?
“H-How...”
“He came over to see you,” she says quietly, “at the same time we were being taken away.”
Nausea crashes into me and I cringe. If no one believed I was bad luck before, they sure as hell would now. The prove? Mark is here...because of me. Mom and Jude are here...because of me. Thankfully Bets hadn't been targeted.
A loud grating noise embraces the moldy air around us, the sound of keys jingling in our ears. When a nine foot tall red demon with coarse black hair and horns comes into view, along with two smaller ones, dread covers my skin like freezing cold water. As this demon grins maliciously at us I quickly recognize the monster from my dream.
“Good evening, ladies,” Alistor nastily spits out. “The master would like to see you now.”
CHAPTER 23
A sense of déjà vu hits me in the gut as Alistor pulls me down a narrow hallway, the heavy chains around my wrists a constant reminder that this isn't a dream. Mom is being led by a lesser demon that has the body of a man and the head of a bull, reminding me of the mythical creature called a Minotaur. A third demon flanks us from behind and I have no idea what creature he portrays. He's stocky and short with pinkish skin, black beady eyes, and a pig snout. I would have laughed at the lesser demons, but I remember from my dream that the nine foot tall with black horns had not been one to joke around.
I decide to keep my mouth shut as we continue walking the downward slope, the only light coming from torches on the walls every fifty feet or so. And just like in the dream the ground crunches under our feet. I don't dare look down. I keep my eyes toward the front, staring right into the middle of Alistor's back. A loud rumbling can be heard above us, and as we get closer and farther down this tomb of death I can see an opening with a bright light spilling through. There's also many different voices shouting in Hell's language. The Silver Eagle in me becomes agitated, and I find myself clenching my teeth so hard I fear they will break.
“Gracen,” Mom says quietly behind me, “whatever happens in there, always remember that I love you and...I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you.”
“Mom,” I say back, “we're going to make it out of here. Alive. So shut-up and let me think.” A gruff laugh sounds in front of us.
“Silly humans,” Alistor mumbles deeply, yanking my chains so hard I go flying through the opening and onto the ground. He follows up by kicking me in the stomach, sending me another few feet. The crowd of demons roar with laughter.
Bright stars flicker before my eyes and nausea billows over my body. I shake my head in hopes of clearing my vision, and once I do I get an eyeful of Alistor's twisted face.
“Get up, you little bitch! The master is waiting.” He jerks me up, nearly popping my arms out of joint.
I glare up at him through stormy eyes and promise, “You'll be dead before this night is over.” And I totally mean it. Whatever happens tonight, this demon is going to die.
My comment angers the ancient demon, earning me a slap across the face from his callused hand. I hear Mom cry out, not wanting her daughter to be touched by the nasty creature from Hell. Again the devil masses hoot and holler, yelling out in their own language. There's an assortment of demons in the stands, all shapes, sizes, and colors. Most of them are underlings of the underworld, not the ones I've encounter in my nightly battles.
I turn my gaze back to Alistor and sneer, my tongue sliding over my busted lip. The blood in my mouth strikes a chord deep down in my soul, and I'm about to lay into him when an abrasive, boisterous voice booms in the demon arena.
“ENOUGH!”
All heads turn to the middle of the arena. A golden platform sits there, and standing on it is a monster I've never seen before. He's wearing a long red robe, but from his black scaly bald head, legs, feet, and hands that show out of his clothing, I know immediately that he's Botis.
The father of all Night Vipers is truly a sight to see, with his black eyes, blood red lips, and long tail sticking out from the bottom of his robe. A proud smirk is etched on his face as his eyes fall on mom and me.
“Alistor,” Botis snarls, “bring forth the prisoners.”
Alistor yanks Mom's chains out of the lesser demon hands, then pulls us toward the golden altar. Pushing us down onto our knees, he bows his head.
“The prisoners, my lord,” Alistor announces.
Botis grins, showing off his black fangs. “Good work, Alistor. Now go get the rest of them, along with the traitors.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Alistor bows his head again, then runs to a door off to the side of the arena. In the meantime Botis materializes in front of me.
“So, Gracen,” he begins as his black, snake-like tongue flicks out of his mouth. “A product of light and dark. A very interesting mixture. Tell me...what do you think of my home?”
I turn my head to the left and to the right, catching sight of many deformed perversions of Hell itself. Then I glare into his black beady eyes and reply, “Frankly, your audience, or minions, whatever you choose to call them, are ugly as hell. Your island is a wasteland of burnt oppression and horrid reality.” I pause, flexing my face into a
grimace. “And as for the offensive stench—it smells like I’ve fallen into a deep hole of sewage, filled to the rim with stanky demons. Basically your island smells like a gigantic Troll butt. Seriously.”
The whole arena is silent as I prepare to get my head bashed in by the father of all Vipers, but that's when I get an unexpected surprise. Botis rears his head back and laughs, followed by the demons in the stands letting out their own cackles. I look at Mom and can read the quiet unease written all over her pale face.
“Gracen, watch what you say,” she warns, her lips tightening into a straight line.
As the laughter dies down, Botis once again sets his gaze on me.
“What a witty little mortal,” Botis remarks, his forked tongue licking his lips. “Your father has never been one to joke. You must take that after your mother.”
“I don't joke,” I put out there, lifting my chin in defiance. “I keep it real and post the truth, and the truth is, you're a douche bag.”
“Gracen,” my mother hisses beside me, but I stand my ground, continuing to defy this dark angel. He's no longer smiling, but frowning.
“It seems your father will have to reform you into something we can work with,” Botis spits out, his eyes glinting with vileness. “He's the best at putting people in their places, sometimes even better than I.”
“Oh really?” I muse comically. “And where is my rapist of a father?”
“Behind you, my dear daughter.”
In unison, Mom and I jump to our feet, turning around to face Alexander. He's wearing a black business suit, with his white hair slicked back and his face flawless as ever. I'm not sure how old he is, but he doesn't appear to be much older than me, though he is my father. My father who raped my mother. I turn to Mom and see for the first time a terror in her eyes that would never be matched. She is literally staring down her nightmare, the one she'd escaped from sixteen years ago. And right now her nightmare is staring back at her.
“My, my, Ellen. Still beautiful as ever.” He reaches his hand out and touches her cheek. In return she jerks her head away from his touch.
“Don't touch me, you bastard,” she spews out, then spits in his face. Her audaciousness thrills the Fallen Angel Botis.
“Oooh, she's feisty!” he marvels, rubbing his scaly hands together. “You sure know how to pick them, Alexander.”
Alexander is not at all happy with my mother's bravery.
“Ellen,” Alexander says, pulling his handkerchief out of his front pocket and wiping the spit from his face. “As much as I love going back and forth with you, right now is not the time. I'll schedule you for later, but for now...” He places two fingers in his mouth and whistles, signaling the Minotaur and the pig-snout demon to come forward. They bow their heads and then salute Alexander.
“Chain her to the wall,” he tells them. Turning to Mom with narrowed eyes he adds in a growl, “Tightly.”
The two demons grunt, then drag my mother to the wall off to the side. That's when I first notice the chains and shackles that hang from the arena walls. The demons take my mother's arms and lift them over her head, snapping the manacles tightly around her small wrists. Then they take each of her legs and cuff them just as tightly. I want to cry at the way my mom is situated, locked in and trapped, totally helpless. The tears don't come—my anger is too great to feel any sadness at the moment. As my eyes scan the entire circled arena, I see that chains and shackles are distributed everywhere, prompting me to wonder why they would need some many.
What kind of horror did this place hold?
I got my answer when Alistor kicked a metal door open, jerking the chain roughly in his hand and slinging the other prisoners out into the open sphere. Shouts from the demon spectators sound out again, this time throwing rocks at the newest actors in this screwed-up play from Hell.
The first to emerge is Tink and Jude, followed by Jack, Reagan, and Mark. They're all latched onto the same chain, trapped together. From my obscured vantage point I can see that their faces are dirty and speckled with bruises. I watch in revulsion as they are dragged against the ground to become chained up next to my mother. I can feel all their emotions in one ball of spirits. Sadness, fear, nervous, confusion, weariness—every emotion pounds into my soul with every breath they take. When Mark is chained, his eyes break away from the huge Alistor, catching my gaze. His horrified expression causes my heart to stutter in my chest.
When the last two bodies are thrown out into the open my breath hitches in my lungs and my heart breaks to pieces. Phoenix and Ash roll across the dirty ground, barefoot and only wearing jeans. They have shackles on their wrists and feet with blood dripping down their arms and legs. Their moans echo throughout the underground stadium as they crawl on their hands and knees, each breath they take coming in labored gasps. Bright red slashes, most likely from whips, glow off of their backs. I want to rush over and help them, but arms grab me roughly around the waist.
“No, dear daughter,” Alexander hisses in my ear. “You stay here.” He motions for Pig Face to come and stand guard over me. He waddles over and points a spear at me, the tip sticking into my neck. He grins at me, showing off green teeth.
I glare down at him and say, “Your breath smells like pig farts.” His smile fades and he pushes the tip of the spear a little deeper, this time bringing blood.
The sting on my neck is bothersome, but I hold back my pained wince. I turn my eyes back to Phoenix and Ash, just in time to see Alexander kick Phoenix in the stomach. Phoenix falls onto his back, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. Then Alexander grabs Ash around the throat and slings him my direction. He lands a couple of feet in front of me. I fall to my knees and cradle his head in my lap.
“Ash,” I say, looking down into his black-inked eyes. His face is cut and bleeding, both eyes swollen and bruised. Tears spill over the edges of my eyelids and fall down my face. His body is racked with convulsions. “Ash, you've got to settle down! Please, you'll—”
“G-G-Gracen,” he stutters, spitting blood out of his mouth. “Gra...” His eyes close and his body stills. Frantically I reach a finger to his pulse. It's weak, but still pumping.
“SILENCE!” Botis bellows. Abruptly all noise stops. All that can be heard is my soft weeping. I hold Ash's head in my lap and kiss his cheek.
“We'll be free soon, brother,” I promise in a whisper. “We'll be free soon.”
A shadow falls over Ash and I. Looking up I discover I'm staring into the eyes of my father. He's peering down at us with a frown on his pale face, his ebony eyes gleaming with madness.
“Stand up, Gracen,” he orders me. “We have much to discuss.”
“And what do we have to discuss, Alexander?” I question, spitting out his name in disgust.
In a fit of rage he leans over and seizes my arm, lifting me to my feet. Ash's head falls out of my lap, his unconscious body now lying flat.
Getting nose to nose with me Alexander snaps, “You will not call me by my name. I am your father and you will address me as such.” His tone is laced with displeasure and I know he means business.
Though I'm not always willing to comply.
“Fine,” I say in a huff, adding, “Daddy.” He glowers at me for a moment, his face growing red, then storms over to the golden altar where Botis has taken a seat on his golden throne, carting me along with him.
Once we're in front of Botis, Alexander bows his head and says, “My lord, I give to you my daughter.” He then glances up at the age-old demon. “She's a product of light and dark, the first of her kind. You have my permission to take her as your own, to use however you want.”
Botis nods his head for Alexander to continue. “Though I was hoping I could be there to train her up right, to teach her all the ways of the Night Viper clan.”
“You don't have to ask permission to train your daughter, my friend,” Botis informs him, his red lips grinning, then he settles his eyes on me. “She will make a fine soldier in our army, but we have much to learn
about what she can do and—”
“Oh, wait just one freaking minute!” I shout out in anger, interrupting Botis. Alexander drops my arm, only to smack me across the face with so much force that I fall to the ground. Cheers call out from the stands, but one stands out among the rest.
It's Botis, and he's laughing.
“She's full of spunk, your daughter is,” Botis tells Alexander. Then in a menacing tone he says, “She will be much fun to break.”
Who the hell did they think they were, telling me I'm going to be this or do that. With the Silver Eagle gaining power in my blood I kick Alexander's legs out from under him, causing him to fall on his back. That's when Alistor charges at me with a huge ax. As he prepares to bring it down on my head I lift my chained arms up and the ax cuts through the chains, freeing my arms. He roars in anger bringing his ax down again. This time I fall on my back and lift my legs in the air, letting his ax cut through the chains that had my feet captive. I roll out of his way when he brings the weapon down a third time, his ax impacting the ground a few inches deep. I quickly jump to my feet, spotting both the Minotaur and Pig Face demons, and then...
Something strange happens.
One minute I'm standing there watching them charge me and the next I'm somehow behind them, which is impossible, unless...
“I can teleport,” I say with fascination. A sly grin crosses my face as I stare down the demons after me. “I can teleport.”
CHAPTER 24
The inhuman audience goes quiet, disbelieving what has just happened. I look to the others chained up at the wall and see their mesmerized expressions, their eyes nearly bugging out of their heads. My gaze shifts to Phoenix, who is still on the ground but able to gaze at me. A smile tugs at his lips, though fades just as fast.