Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (22 page)

“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 shirt. 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.”

Raking a hand through his hair, and then rubbing at his eyes with balled-up fists, a yawn attacks him. Deep dark circles cover his eyes, his normally dark skin taking on a more pale shade.

Phoenix is wore out, and so am I. He's right when he says we need rest, though that's easier said than done. I'm not sure how I'll be able to rest with the beehive of distressing thoughts buzzing around in my head.

Being this close to Phoenix, though, is like my own personal solace. His protectiveness and loyalty is burning so strong on him, helping to soothe my fragile self.

“Will you hold me, Phoenix?” I ask, catching him off guard.

Regarding me with curiosity he wonders, “Are you sure?”

I smile slightly and nod my head. “Yeah. I'm sure.”

Turning away from him, I flip over to my left side. He slides in behind me, draping an arm around me and pulling me close. Warmth spreads from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and in that moment I know I'm safe just being in his embrace. A soft sigh eludes his lips, the sound music to my ears. I allow myself to close my eyes, though I have one nagging thought that will not shut off.

Before I'm able to doze I ask Phoenix one more question.

“Alexander said that Zavebe brought him to his son
and
to his daughter. Who is his daughter?”

Tension suddenly takes hold of his body, all the muscles in his arms tightening. His heart is beating so fast and so hard in his chest I can feel it on my back as he draws me even closer to him. He's nervous about something, but I'm too sleepy to wonder why.

“The truth will come out soon, Gracen,” he whispers in my ear as I head off to la-la land. “We'll all know the truth soon.”

***

“Hurry up!” the burly demon growls, giving the chains locked to my wrists a hard yank. “The master is waiting and he will not be pleased if you're late.”

I move my feet as fast as I can, my wrists bloodied and sore. The demon, who has red skin under thin coarse black hair and long black horns protruding from his bald head, pulls me down a narrow hallway. Torches light up the dark path, showing walls made of sharp jagged rock. The ground beneath my feet is littered with rocks, dirt, and bones, human from the looks of them. Blood and death scent the hot, humid air, along with the putrid smell of the demon pulling me.

A howl of excruciating pain echoes off the walls and I trip, falling to my knees. This earns me a slap across the face with the chains that hold me captive. Tilting my head upwards I come face-to-face with the nine-foot tall bastard. His lips are curled up in a sneer, his nostrils flaring with each angry breath he exhales. He glowers down at me through tar-black eyes, the firelight from the torches glinting off them.

“Get up or I'll kill you myself,” he hisses with black spittle flinging from his mouth.

I narrow my eyes at him, promising, “As soon as I lose these chains, you'll be the one dead.”

My remark makes him burst out in guttural laughter. He jerks the chains, lifting me to my feet, and once again we begin trekking down the narrow hall. I lick and taste blood from my busted lip. Inwardly I swear to myself that when my chains are gone that demon is going to lose his head. The Silver Eagle flutters around inside me, anxious to be released, but I'm unable to let it out. My powers have been depleted, my energy drained, and I know immediately why.

It's this place, this rocky edifice that has stolen all my energy, rendering me powerless. I'm not sure what it is, but it has something to do with what's inside the rock.

Another screech of anguish fills my eardrums, the sound so abrasive I'm afraid my head will explode. The smell of blood is getting stronger, the pain and torture happening all around hitting me squarely in the face. As we walk I close my
eyes, trying to center myself and allow my mind to call out to the souls being harmed. But it's a useless feat. Without my powers I
can't sense
the souls; I can only feel their torment.

Suddenly a large metal door appears before us, and the demon pushes it open, the hinges causing an irritating shriek. He leads me into a large room—no, scratch that—it's more like an
massive
underground stadium. Demons and monsters of all sorts take up the arena seats. They hiss and yell in their demon languages, throwing rocks at me as I pass. The one pulling me detonates a harsh roar, the stadium immediately growing silent. The only sound that can be heard now is the clank-clank of my chains.

For the first time since entering the arena, I peel my eyes off the ground and look around. Fear catapults into me as I see Alexander, in all his sadistic glory, sitting on a throne made of bones. He's wearing a black robe, his pitch-black eyes trained on me. He holds a large knife in his hand, twirling it between his fingers slow, delicately.

A bad taste forms in the back of my throat when I see Ash. He's on the ground next to his father's throne, on his knees and wearing only a pair of jeans. His body is covered in bruises and bloody gashes. He peers up at me through blonde bangs, though he's only seeing me out of one eye, since the other is swollen shut. Lowliness and despair is thickly flowing off of him, his frown a deep scar on his face.

“Gracen...”

A faint voice sounds off to my right, and my heart pounds with alarm.

“Mom! Jude!” I cry out, starting to run toward them, only to be jerked back by the chains holding me hostage. Not only is Jude and my mom chained up, but so is Phoenix, Jack, Reagan, and Tink, all bloody and broken.

I try breaking away from the demon, but that awards me yet another blow to the face with my chains. I fall to the ground, looking up at the demon who's beating me, preparing myself for another hit.

“That's enough, Alistor,” Alexander says, his voice strangely calm and gentle. He stands to his feet and walks down from his throne, the knife in his hand glinting in the torchlight. “Remember who you have in your possession. She is precious cargo.”

He stops a few inches in front of me, kneeling down on one knee. Raising my eyes and glaring at him I try to ignore the torn flesh on my knees and focus all my hatred toward him. His black eyes stare at me, his head tilts to the side, allowing me to see the coiled viper on his cheek.

A moment of silence passes before I ask, “What do you want from me?”

The corners of his eyes wrinkle as a sinister grin spreads across his face, and I'm terrified by the sharp fangs touching his lower lip.

“Look at my face closely, dear Gracen.” His voice is cool and serene. “Tell me what you see.”

Being this up close and personal to Alexander, I see that his skin is pale and flawless, that the face underneath the white hair is quite young. I see a lot of Ash in his face, but I also see something else, something very familiar.

As I continue to stare his face begins to transform, features and bone structure rearranging, until Alexander is no longer there. Instead there's pale blue eyes staring at me, pink lips, long white hair, and that's when I realize...

I'm staring at myself.

I wake with a start, my heart a big beating ball of meat. Sweat covers my entire body, the blanket Phoenix had covered me with discarded onto the floor. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. When the large windows of the warehouse comes into view, the hot sun pouring in, I remember. Everything.

Looking for Phoenix I find him sitting in a chair next to the bed, his dark eyes fixated on me. He's changed into dark jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair is still damp, evidence that he's taken a shower. His hands are entwined with his chin resting on them, his elbows perched atop his thighs. A few different emotions are spilling off of him right now
in strong waves.  A
nxiety, fear, and relief. The expression on his face tells me everything I need to know.

Phoenix had known this whole time.

I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed, glaring at Phoenix.

“You knew, didn't you?” I start out. “From the beginning. You knew that Alexander was my father, and that Ash was my brother.”

With a weary look he answers, “I wasn't sure. I—”

I didn't give him a chance to finish. My anger had gotten the best of me, causing me to fly off the bed and grab him around the collar of his shirt. I toss him across the room—he crashes into the kitchen table and falls flat on his back. Using my super speed I cross the room in a nanosecond, straddling him and slapping him across the face.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I demand, giving his face another whack.

“Gracen,” he breathes out, “I didn't know. With Ash being normal one second and crazy the next, I didn't want to tell you if it was just something he made up in his head.”

I shake my head with disgust. “You should've told me.”

“If I'd known it to be true, then I would've told you.” He pauses, his gaze shifting down my body and then back to my face. “Could you get off of me? Maybe we can talk. This is a little...distracting.”