Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (23 page)

I look down, realizing the position we're in, and I quickly get to my feet.

“Fine. We'll talk.” I spin on my heels and head for the couch, sitting down with my arms crossed at my chest. He stands up and staggers over to the couch, only instead of sitting by me, he sits on the ground in front of me.

“I don't know where to start,” he tells me.

“How about at the beginning,” I offer, holding him with a steely gaze. “Or at least when you guys arrived in the city.”

He breathes out a shaky breath and then begins. “The whole reason we came to the city was because of Ash. Before we escaped the clan Ash had been having dreams of New York City, and about a girl with white hair, and that girl turned out to be you. He'd dreamed that he was you, fighting vamp demons. He dreamed about your mother, Jude...” He hesitates before adding, “The date you went on with that Mark guy, and...about the drunkards that you beat up.”

Astonished, my arms fall to my sides. “He dreamed all that?”

He nods. “Before I go on, let me tell you about Viper blood. We are all connected to our family in many different ways. We can speak to them in their dreams, in their heads—”

“Ash did that to me, the first night I saw him.” I shudder. “He'd told me to look out the window.”

“That's the night we decided for me to enroll in school,” he admits. “We weren't sure if you were Alexander's daughter or not. Ash is—well, you know. A little on the crazy side.”

“But he'd not been that crazy, had he?” I point out, shaking my head. “If my mom wasn't kidnapped, I'd be so pissed at her right now.” I pause, peering down at him on the floor. “How could she have hidden my brother from me?”

He surprises me by getting on his knees and taking my hands in his. “Most likely she didn't know of Ash's existence.” When he sees the confusion all over my face he adds, “He's your half-brother, Gracen. You share the same father, but not the same mother.”

Understanding pummels down on me. “Oh, right. That makes sense, though Mom has kept this from me. She's always said my dad up and left us, and that she didn't know where he was.” I drop my head into my hands. “For the last few years she has taught me that Vipers and Eagles didn't mingle, but when you and the rest came into the picture she'd changed her way of thinking, and now I find out that...that...”

I can't finish the sentence. I don't want to hear it out loud.

“I'm a monster, Phoenix,” I whisper. “I've got Botis's blood in me, along with the Silver Eagle. How screwed up is that?”

I feel Phoenix's hands pull mine away from my face so as to look me in the eyes. Meeting his gaze I feel the affection he feels for me, the sorrow, and a new one...

Love.

“Listen to me,” he says in a husky voice. “You're not a monster. You're Gracen Potts. Doesn't matter who your father or your mother is, you are
you
. Nobody can take that away. You understand me?”

I nod, wiping at a stray tear on my cheek.

“We've got a lot to talk about, Gracen. You're going to have to tell me every little detail of your dream. That's how we're going to find them.” He cups my cheek in his palm. “But first, you've got to do something for me.”

“And what would that be?” I inquire, wondering where he's going with this.

“Take a shower,” he tells me, scrunching up his nose. “You stink.”

chapter 20

The shower head is on full blast, and I bask in the feeling of hot water on my bare flesh. I shampoo my hair and the smell of apple blossoms wash over me, reminding me of Tink—she'd smelled like apple blossoms last night. Again tears burn my eyes. I wash them away by sticking my face directly into the stream of water. I had to keep a clear head; I had to stay strong. For Mom, for Jude...

For Ash, my brother.

Why hadn't Mom told me the truth, that my dad was a Night Viper? And not just any Viper, but
the
Viper, Botis's right hand man. Most importantly, what had she been thinking (or smoking) when she had relations with the most horrible man alive?

Now knowing the truth, my anger issues make more sense. I have both types of blood flowing through my veins, both good and evil battling it out to see who becomes the victor. It explains why one minute I want to help the innocents, while the next minute I want to destroy them all. It also meant that I'm way more different than I previously thought.

Now I really didn't belong anywhere in this world.

My thoughts drift to Ash. Poor, crazy, screwed-up Ash. Regret weighs heavily down on me. I'd raged all over him when he had not deserved it. He'd done what was supposed to be done, but my anger had swelled, exploding in his direction. Though he must have forgiven me for the incident, since he'd literally saved my hide from being ripped apart by a werewolf. Thinking back to that precise moment, right before Alexander showed himself, he'd been about to spill out that I was his sister—his
half
sister, that is.

A vision of Zavebe plays across my closed eyelids. His three rows of teeth, his tar-colored eyes, his black claws. A shiver rips through me despite the hot water that's falling over my skin.

Zavebe had found me, knew who I was the whole time, set a trap, and now Alexander had all the rebel Vipers, Mom, and Jude—everyone that I hold dear to my heart. I had to face the cold hard truth...

All of this was my fault.

Turning the shower nozzle off, I step out and wrap my hair in a towel. I snuggle into a white cotton robe of Reagan's, tying it tightly around my waist. Phoenix had promised to find me some clothes while I showered. I sure hope he'd found me some. The clothes I'd been wearing stank of werewolf.

Exiting the bathroom, a chill runs through me. The bathroom had been warm and inviting, but the rest of the warehouse is freezing cold. Phoenix, hearing the bathroom door open, gets up from the couch and walks toward me, bringing me a pair of jeans and a sweater. When he catches sight of me he freezes in place, his dark eyes roaming my body from head to toe. His awestruck expression causes a blush to creep across my cheeks and warmth to skitter in my belly.

“Um,” he begins walking over to me. “These may work. As for, you know, undergarments...”

“These will do,” I tell him quickly, taking the clothes from his hands. He hurriedly starts to walk away when I notice two red scratches on his face.

“Oh no!” I react, seizing his arm and inspecting his face. “What happened?”

“It's nothing,” he says, leaning away from my outstretched hand.

I gawk at him. “Oh yes it is! Did this happen when we were fighting the werewolves?”

He shakes his head. “No, this one is a little...
fresher.
”

I raise an eyebrow, not comprehending at first, but realization eventually smacks me across the face.

“I did it,” I whisper in disbelief. “When I attacked...” I trail off, not wanting to hear the words out loud. After my dream, when I found out he'd known all along that Alexander could possibly be my father, I'd let my anger rise and took it out on him.

“Gracen,” he begins, staring deeply into my eyes, “I'm fine. It's no big deal—”

“Yes it is!” I interject quickly, turning my back to him. “I'm such a screw-up!”

Suddenly he wraps his arms around my waist, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

“You're not a screw-up,” he tells me, whispering in my ear. “You're amazing, you're smart. You're caring, you're loyal. You're beautiful.” He whips me around in his arms, his face lowering to mine. “And I'm falling in love with you.”

His declaration causes my breath to catch in my chest and my heart to skip. Never in my life have I felt such emotions rolling off one person, all directed at me. Contentment, hunger, affection, warmth.

Love.

“You haven't known me long enough to love me,” I say, my heart pounding hard. When his forehead touches mine, that familiar heat falls into my belly.

“It doesn't matter how long we've known each other,” he murmurs. “All I know is that I've never felt like this about anyone—
ever
. You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel like I'm worth something. When I close my eyes, all I see is you. When I think about the future, all I can think about is you.

“You are my world, Gracen Potts, and I love you.”

I've never heard more beautiful words. I've never felt wanted like this. His feelings are authentic, and for a moment I forget about the world, the situation, everything happening in and around us. That's when I rake my hands through his hair and crush my lips to his, wanting to just get tangled up inside of him. He answers my kiss with hungry kisses of his own, his strong arms folding around me, pulling me closer to him.

Passion roars between us, my body melting from the heat pouring off his body. I gasp in surprise when he picks me up, cradling me to his chest. The towel holding my hair loosens and falls to the ground, my damp hair cascading down my back. He walks over to Jack and Reagan's bed, gently lowering me onto the black sheets. His hand travels down my waist and grips the side of my thigh, his eyes following his hand. My heart does cartwheels when his eyes travel back up and rests on my mouth, his lips softly pressing into mine. I close my eyes and savor the taste of him, not wanting to forget the feel of him against my body. It seems he feels the same way as he caresses my lips lovingly, his hand now rubbing the underside of my knee.

With each passing minute our kisses become more urgent, more heated, making me want to feel his skin on my own. I push him off of me and grab the bottom of his shirt, raising it over his head. A smile brushes my lips when his defined abs come into view, but he doesn't give me much time to gander. He presses me back against the pillows, and again we find ourselves in a heated lip lock, my insides igniting with need. I take his hand and lead it to the tie of my robe, hoping he'd take the hint.

I'm not a promiscuous girl—I'm still a virgin, after all. But being in his arms, knowing he loves and cares for me, makes me ready to give him my all. My heart. My everything.

He keeps his hand on the tie, right atop my stomach, but he doesn't make a move to untie it. His lips, however, have moved from my mouth to my chin, making its way down my neck. I give his hand a squeeze, giving him the go ahead. Instead his lips travel back up my chin, my cheeks, my lips.

“Phoenix,” I breathe, my eyes still closed and his lips still moving.

“Yeah,” he breathes back, his hot breath against my skin covering me with goose flesh.

I catch his cheek in my palm, opening my eyes and drawing his gaze to me. “I...I want you.”

“What?” he says softly, his dark eyes burning through me.

I answer by giving the hand he has rested on my stomach a squeeze. He lowers his gaze, then quickly looks back up at me. Understanding flits through his eyes, and they widen.

Just when I think he's about to take off my robe, he jumps to his feet, skimming a hand through his disheveled hair. He turns away, his back muscles tightening as he laces his hands behind his head. I stare at the back of him, confused, his emotions struggling with each other. What had just happened? We were going along great, I thought he'd wanted me. Did he not?

Unable to stand it any longer I ask, “What's wrong? What did I do?”

He drops his hands from the back of his head and cuts his gaze back to me. A pained expression is now on his face, an emotion of stupor painting his handsome features.

“Why would you think you did something wrong?” he inquires, shaking his head.

Embarrassment colors my cheek. Averting my eyes I reply, “Do you not want me?”

In an instant he's by my side, his face contorted in anguish.

“Gracen,” he says, cupping my cheek, “of course I want you. I've wanted you since the first day I saw you. It's just...” he looks away, biting his bottom lip as if trying to snatch up the right words.

I stare harder at him. “Just what, Phoenix?”

He blows out a sigh. “I've been with a lot of girls, but they never meant anything to me. They were there, I was there, and that was it. But you...you've
changed
me. The old me would have taken you on the spot, but,” his dark eyes peer into mine, “I don't want to screw anything up by going too fast. You're someone I see myself growing old with. You're the real deal. And you're worth the wait.”

Again his words have rendered me speechless. I can't believe how lucky I am to have someone as wonderful as Phoenix. He sees me as the person he could grow old with. He says I'm worth the wait.

I can live with that.

“Besides,” he smiles, tilting his head to the side, “we have some people depending on us to save them. We've got to figure out a plan, and frankly...” He does a quick sweep of my body, then back to me. “I can't concentrate with you like this.”

I laugh, noticing that tears have formed in my eyes. Man, I've cried more in the last day than I have all my sixteen years.