Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (13 page)

“Um, yeah,” Phoenix responds, gently pushing me forward. “Gracen, this is Reagan, and the strapping young man next to her is Jack.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Jack greets, shaking my hand roughly from across the table. Then Reagan lifts up her delicate hand.

“Charmed I'm sure,” she says haughtily. I take hold of her fingerless gloved hand, shaking it once.

“It's nice to meet you guys,” I tell them sincerely, my nerves grinding together in my chest.

“Here,” Phoenix motions for Tink to slide in the booth, followed by me. “Let's have a seat and talk a little.”

We settle in the booth, Tink on the inside, me in the middle, and Phoenix on the end. An uneasy silence wraps around our table, causing me to believe that I'm not the only one here that's nervous. Across from us Jack drums his meaty fingers on the table's surface, while Reagan blows huge pink bubbles of gum, popping them with her long black nails. Turning slightly to my left I find that Tink is still grinning from ear to ear, her eyes gazing at me with expectancy. To my right I notice Phoenix staring down at his entwined hands. His mood has shifted from contentment to aggravation, and I have no idea why.

All in all, the introductions went smoothly, though taking a quick look around the table has reality dumping heavy loads of cognition right on top of my entire being. Me, a Silver Mortal, is sitting in a booth with four Night Vipers, the snake marks on their cheeks taunting me, reminding me of who they are. Never in my life did I think I'd be
making nice with
this group, let alone kissing one of them.

Oh, and what a kissed it had been! Though I'm a bit surprised with myself for letting it happen. I've only known Phoenix a few days now and we'd kissed. Not to mention the fact that he's supposed to be an enemy to my kind.

Well, I've never thought of my life as normal, so why try now?

“Where's Ash?” Phoenix questions quietly, his tone on the coarse side. Tink stiffens next to me, while Jack and Reagan exchange wary glances.

“He didn't want to come,” Jack replies, avoiding eye contact with Phoenix.

“Yeah,” Reagan backs up Jack. “He told us that he wasn't ready to meet...” Her gaze travels over to me. “Her.”

That's right! I'd forgotten about the blonde Viper. I'd been so distracted and anxious about meeting them that I'd failed to notice that one was missing.

“Is Ash the blonde?” I pry.

“Yes,” Tink answers bitterly, “and he's also a big a—”

“
Tink
!” Reagan warns, shaking a finger at her. “
Watch your potty mouth
.” I stare at Reagan inquisitively, and she adds, “Sorry about that. Tink is the youngest and I'm the only roll model she has. Until now, that is.” She smirks, and I know right then and there that I'd have to keep an eye on her—
and
watch my language.

Jack notices the staring match Reagan and I are in the middle of, so he cuts into the strange peer-off. “So, Phoenix here tells us that you're quite the fighter.”

I shrug, my self-esteem dippin
g a little. “Yeah, I guess. I have
only been at it for three years now.”

“Three years?” Reagan jabs out, sounding amazed. “You mean you didn't train when you were younger?”

I shake my head. “No. My mother left me to live with my grandma until I became mature enough to get my powers. I was thirteen when I received my Silver Mortal gifts.”

“Wow, my age!” Tink exclaims, her eyes full of
wonder and
child-like
amazement
.

“You mean,” Jack began, scratching the side of his bald head, “that you weren't born with the gift?”

“I was born with it,” I quickly clarify. “But Silver Mortals don't fully receive their powers until they, um, well...” I drag off, my face burning with abashment. I couldn't bring myself to say it in front of complete strangers, though it doesn't stop Reagan from blurting it out.

“Oh, I get it!” she cries out, breaking into a wide grin. “You had to start your monthlies before getting your
, um,
powers, right?” I nod, too embarrassed at where the conversation is heading, though I know she's not when she puts in, “Thirteen, huh? That's pretty old to start getting monthlies. I guess you were just a late bloomer.”

With a flaming red face I mumble out, “Yeah, I guess.” Just when I think the period talk is over, Tink chimes in.

“That is old! I mean, I was ten when I started getting my monthlies.” She grins up at me innocently. I smile slightly, nodding my head.

The table goes quiet once again, thanks to the talk about my menstrual cycle, or what Reagan and Tink called
monthlies
, putting a strained damper on our little group. Luckily with Tink's young, undeterred mind, she tries to start up the conversation again, and I inwardly pray she leaves out all the girlie, private topics.

“Phoenix told us that one day we'd be able to hunt together. Is that true?” That expectant gleam in her eyes is back, eagerly awaiting my response. I smile down at her.

“Actually, we—” My words are cut off as Phoenix interrupts.

“We can't go out without Ash,” he tells the group, his tone stern. “We have to stay together and until Ash
decides to
cooperate you all have to stay hidden.”

“But that's totally unfair!” Reagan expresses, her black lips twisting into a frown. “You're going to school
, fighting
demons—when do we get our turn?”

“Yeah,” Jack pushes in heatedly. “I'm tired of hiding. I'm ready to burn off some energy, ya know what I'm sayin'? Dust some demons and send their sorry
arses
back to Hell!”

“Jack!” Reagan hisses, cutting her eyes to Tink, then back to him. “Watch your language.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sorry. What I meant to say is send their sorry
tails
back to Hell.”

Reagan smiles, smacking his cheek lightly. “That's much better.”

“No,” Phoenix mutters next to me.

“No?” Jack replies. “What are you
saying
, Phoenix?”

Phoenix leans his elbows on the table, staring intently at Jack and Reagan. “First of all, about me going to school—you guys voted for me to go and check it out, and I've only been doing that a week. And second, I've only dusted demons one night this week, and thirdly...”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me from keeping up with their back and forth. Thinking it's mom calling to check up on me, I'm taken back by who the caller truly is.

Mark.

What's he calling about? It had been a couple days since he'd called last, and I hadn't answered any of them. Had he not taken the hint? If you call and call somebody and they never pick up, isn't that proof enough they don't want to speak to you?

Laying the phone on the table, I decide to let it ring, figuring he'd eventually give up. I try to catch up on the Vipers back and forth, but the phone's continuous vibration breaks my concentration. Just when I think he's given up, the screen lights up again, his name flashing on and off. Reagan notices the vibration of the table, looking down at my jiggling phone.

They become quiet when Reagan points at the cell and asks, “Aren't you going to answer that?”

I shake my head, answering, “No, it's not important.”

“Oh yeah?” Before I can stop him, Phoenix grabs the phone. Reading the name on the screen, he gives me a questioning glare. “Who's Mark?”

I try to grab the phone from him, but he holds it out of reach, so I give up and sigh. “He's just a guy I know. We went on one date. Nothing serious.” Not now, anyway, but at the time...

“Um, Gracen?” Reagan says with a hint of worry in her voice.

“Yeah?”

“What does this Mark guy look like?”

“Why are you asking me that?” What, did she want a date or something?

When her gaze shifts up and behind me, my blood grows cold and my heart skips. Turning around I almost scream.

chapter 13

My heart automatically falls into my stomach when Mark comes into view. He's standing just a couple of feet from the booth, his phone held at his ear. A look of hurt crosses his face, his eyes darkened with extreme shock. Then his expression changes to one I never thought would cross his sweet face.

Rage.

“M-Mark,” I stutter, “how long have—”

“Doesn't matter now.” He slaps his phone shut, adding, “You were never going to answer anyway.”

“Wait, let me explain,” I tell him imploringly, but he turns around and walks away. Before I can stop myself I slide out of the booth, taking Phoenix with me and knocking him out in the process.

“Oof!” Phoenix lets out, and I'm horrified at myself for pushing him onto the floor.

“Oh my—Phoenix! I'm so sorry!” I reach down and grab his left elbow, pulling him to his feet in one swift movement. His stunned expression is almost funny, if it had been a different situation.

Backing away from him and the others I whisper, “Sorry.” I spin on my heels and head after Mark.

Running out the doors of the restaurant I spot Mark walking quickly down the overcrowded sidewalk. His strides are long, walking briskly, and his hunched shoulders tell me that he's pissed, and rightly so. He'd just caught me sitting next to another guy, not to mention he witnessed me ignoring his phone calls. He'd actually seen me staring at my phone and purposely not answering.

“Mark!” I shout, having to fight through the herd of New Yorkers. I ignore the profanities and catcalls being slung my direction. That's an everyday occurrence, anyway.

Abruptly he stops and turns around, rubbing a hand through his rumpled hair. I stop a few feet away, trying my best to be calm and to sedate the insane pulsation of my rhythmic heart. Since I'm closer to him now I can see a different boy—
man
—in front of me. His jeans are torn and holey, his gray long-sleeved shirt is wrinkled, like he'd been wearing it for days. His usually shaved face is riddled with a few days stubble, making him look five years older.

Tilting his head, he glares at me with a dark, stormy edge in his hazel eyes. One eye is still bruised from the attack a few days before. At that moment I wish I could tell him everything. Everything about me, what I am, what I could do, and what I was created for. I want to tell him that my avoiding him had been for his own good, that a relationship between a Touched and Untouched
human would never work.

Phoenix's image passes through my mind. What's he thinking right now? He's probably confused, and maybe a bit miffed. Yes, we'd shared a sweet kiss earlier, but he's a Night Viper. Are we together?
Could
we be together? Or would we—

“Why'd you follow me, Gracen?” Mark inquires, bringing me down from my overabundant thinking cloud.

Shaking dust off my brain I tell him, “I want to explain. What you saw—what you're assuming is not what it appears.”

“Really?” He laughs, the sound abrasive to my ears. “Boy, that's a relief! Seeing you with another dude and also watching as you stare at my incoming call and not answering—I was beginning to think you'd lost interest in me.” His phony smiles fades. “You must think I'm a paranoid goof.”

Pushing passed his sarcasm I try retorting, “I don't think—” He interjects by lifting a hand in the air to silence me.

“Save your breath, Gracen,” he spits out hatefully. “I know when I'm not wanted. I may be a country boy trying to make it in the big city, but I'm smart enough to figure out you don't want to date.”

I gulp. “Mark, please. Let me explain.”

“And another thing,” he continues, ignoring my voice, “I know I got the hell beat out of me the other night. I don't even know how I ended up at my apartment. But to hold it against me because I got jumped trying to protect you—that's just wrong.”

My jaw drops and I'm appalled by his assumption that I think he's weak.

“Mark,” I try one more time, “just hear me out. Please.”

“No,” he says nastily, his face emotionless. “You've had plenty of chances to talk to me, but you never picked up. But don't worry. You won't be getting anymore calls from me.”

My heart and spirit breaks to pieces when he mutters, “Goodbye, Gracen.”

Mark walks away, leaving me to stand alone in a massive ocean of people who are pushing passed me as if I'm not there. I watch after him until he vanishes into the crowd. A single tear slides down my cheek, my heart breaking because I'd broken his, and it was all my fault. I should have just sucked it up and answered his calls, letting him down gently. At least that way we might have had a chance for a friendship.

Another life lesson learned.

A harsh wind whips my ponytail into my face, and I feel a familiar presence behind me. Turning around I find Phoenix standing there, his lips thin and brows narrow.