Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (20 page)

“That would be so hot,” he adds in a whisper.

“I'll remember that for next time.”

All of a sudden he releases me and closes his eyes, raising his hands in the air, mimicking the crowd's movements. I watch as he swings his hips, astonished to see that he has rhythm. My eyes drift down to the rest of his body, and again my insides heat up. His turtleneck grips his toned shoulders and slim waist tightly, his jeans hang loosely around his narrow hips. My eyes settle there, and a moment later my hips are swaying along with his.

After awhile I fall into a groove, closing my eyes
,
lifting my arms in the air. I find it invigorating to be one with the crowd, just being another piece of this roiling chaotic mess of motion. The music grows faster, my body shifting into overdrive, and I allow myself to let go. A smile touches my lips, contentment along with freedom kindles the fire deep in my soul.

In that moment I forget that I'm a Silver Mortal. I forget that my blood contains supernatural powers. I forget that I'm a demon slayer; I'm Gracen Potts, your average sixteen year old girl having fun.

When the song stops, replaced by a slow one, I lower my arms and open my eyes. Even through my sunglasses I can see Phoenix clearly, and he has stopped dancing. His gaze is hooked on me. He'd been watching my every move, and instantly I feel self-conscious.

“What's wrong?” I ask nervously, my arms crossing at my chest. He takes a couple of steps, his gaze never leaving me.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, grinning from ear to ear. “Absolutely nothing.”

Fueling my surprise, he takes his hand and palms my cheek, using his other hand to take off my sunglasses.

“What are you doing?” I panic, reaching for them. He drops his hand from my face and gently grips my wrist. I skim over the crowd, making sure no one is observing us and noticing my silver eyes. Luckily everyone is in their own drug-infested worlds.

“Gracen,” he begins, his thumb lightly tracing my bottom lip. “I don't know what you're doing to me, but whatever it is, I need more.”

I raise my eyebrows, speechless, as he continues, “You are so beautiful. The most beautiful creature in the universe. I'd do anything for you.” He lays a kiss on my forehead. “I'd die for you. Always remember that.”

My eyes widen and my heart thumps triple time when he begins to lean forward, his gaze hard on my lips. I close my eyes, awaiting the touch of his plump, sensual lips. A few seconds pass and nothing happens. Opening my eyes, a surge of instant panic flows through my veins. Instead of Phoenix's dark brown eyes staring back at me, I find myself staring into his blackened pupils, though he's no longer looking at me. His gaze is what's on
behind
me. The black coiled viper is more prominent on his cheek, its surface shiny and glistening with sweat.

My mouth goes dry, but I push through it enough to inquire, “What's wrong?” I feel like my heart is about to explode.

“Wolf demons,” he answers in a monotone voice. I start to turn my head, but he stops me at the last second. “No! No, don't make any sudden moves.” His jaw twitches, his black orbs unblinking.

The Silver Eagle within me begins to stir, spreading its wings in my chest.

“How many?” I ask quietly.

“A few.”

“How many is a few?”

“At least twelve, maybe more.” He tilts his head to the side. “The others see them, too.” I want to ask how he knows that, but then I see Ash and Tink standing off to the side, and from where I'm standing I can see their black eyes gleaming.

We stand in the middle of the dance floor, Phoenix's eyes focused on the demons, and mine focused on him. Life seems surreal, the moment of normalcy we'd just shared gone. All I want is to be part of the crowd. I want to dance, drink, be wild and carefree. But that life isn't mine to have. The supernatural world has its firm grip on my existence, and at the moment this club was being overrun with werewolves.

Seconds pass by slowly, and I become antsy.

“What are we going to do?” I ask, eager to get all demons away from the Untouched.

“We wait,” he responds stiffly. “They won't perceive me or the others as threats, but as soon as they sense you are with us, the gloves will be off. Then it's on.”

“Wait? We can't
wait
!” I exclaim, dismayed. “They will attack the innocents here. There's too many souls in danger for us to just wait!”

“We have to lure them out of here,” he says calmly, biting his bottom lip in deep concentration. “But I'm not sure how we're going to do it without causing a scene.”

Listening to that last sentence, a jagged rock of realization hits me in my gut.

“I know how,” I tell him, “but you're going to have to let me go.”

He looks down, regarding me with doubt. “What do you suggest we do?”

Swallowing a large lump wedged in my tonsils I say, “I'm going to turn around and let them see me. I'll be bait.”

If feelings could physically slap you in the face, his would be beating me again and again with worry and
extreme
protectiveness.

“No,” he orders firmly. “There's no way you're going to be bait. I will not—”

“It's the only way and you know it.” I lift my chin up bravely, not backing down.

Phoenix glowers at me for what seems an eternity, when in reality it's only a few seconds. I can tell—no, I can
feel
the conflict happening inside him. He has a harsh gleam in his eyes. He knows this is the only way, and he despises it. By showing myself to the demons I can lure them away from the innocents.

“Alright,” he breathes out in defeat. “Show yourself. I don't like it, but we'll have your back. We'll keep you safe.”

I release a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

“I hope you know what you're doing,” he tells me warily, his fingers lightly caressing my cheek.

A snarky smile tugs at my lips.

“Trust me. I know how to handle werewolves.”

I turn around slowly, the Silver Eagle now fully charged, itching underneath my skin to be set free. Everything is in slow motion as my eyes fall on the werewolves. They are spread throughout the club, and there's definitely more than twelve. There's at least double that amount. They stand close to the dancers, studying them with thirsty eyes. Thankfully the club-goers are unaware of their presence.

The wolf demons all have the same appearance—black wiry fur, eight feet tall with muscular frames, long, sharp fangs, and sharp claws. They also stank of burnt flesh.

Disgusting.

I stare straight ahead, catching the eye of one of them. He tilts his hairy head and sniffs the air, staring directly at me, his black eyes beginning to glow yellow. A low guttural growl starts to rumble around the night club, growing louder and louder until the air thunders with their caustic roars. The floor beneath our feet begins to shake, only us Touched humans noticing the supernatural earthquake.

Leaning back into Phoenix I say, “Follow my lead.”

Taking a few steps forward I place my hands on my hips and allow my potent supernatural blood to rise to the surface, knowing that my eyes and marks are glowing silver.

“Come and get me!” I shout, spinning on my heels and running toward the stairs. My plan is to lure them up to the roof. I inwardly pray no one else is up there.

Before the Vipers and I reach the stairs, I risk a peek behind me. The werewolves are taking the bait and following, literally
walking
through the Untouched humans in their way. Thank God the innocents will never know. The last image I see before we sprint up the steps is the many yellow eyes following us.

The gloves are off.

The Silver Eagle is ready to be released.

chapter 18

The door to the roof splinters as Phoenix and I kick it down, a cold rush of air greeting us as we step outside. The roof is lit up with white Christmas lights that drape around the top of the building, helping to guide our way, though we all could see just as well without them. Our footsteps crunch against the pebble-covered roof as we move to the far side of the building. Phoenix is by my side, flanked by Ash and Tink on the left, and Jack and Reagan on the right.

All their eyes have turned black, the vipers on their faces showing boldly from their cheeks. An energy of anticipation is thick in the air, the switches to our supernatural powers turned on full blast. We stand as one in silence, waiting for our enemies to arrive.

We don't have to wait long.

“Here they come,” Ash proclaims huskily. I sneak a glance at him, stunned to see his usual shaky body is now stiff and rigid, his hands clenched tightly into fists. His emotions are also surprisingly stable, feelings I've never felt come off of him before.

Boldness. Courage. Determination.

The werewolves begin appearing before our eyes. They form in a straight line directly in front of us. I count thirty demons, all baring their fangs and growling. Clearly they're out for blood, their yellow eyes trained on us. A couple of them sound as if they're trying to laugh, thinking they have us cornered. I'm not afraid. I have pure silver bowie knifes strapped to my legs, and I'm pretty sure the Vipers have weapons hidden somewhere on them.

At least I
hope
they do.

One of the wolf demons, most likely the General of the pack, takes a few steps forward. He begins speaking in an unknown language. Out of our group Ash steps up to him, squaring his shoulders with the eight foot monster. I'm flabbergasted by his sudden nerve.

“What's he doing?” I ask Phoenix, not bothering to hide the horror in my voice.

“He's alright,” he assures me, just as Ash starts speaking to the demon in the same foreign tongue. Again, I'm shocked beyond measures.

“Whoa,” I breathe out, taken back. “How does Ash know—”

“It's in our blood, Gracen,” Reagan interrupts in a hiss. “Having Botis's blood in our veins
, demon blood,
helps us in understanding Hell's language.”

Tink's voice pipes up next adding, “All demons speak Hell's language. Only fallen angels can speak human languages.”

I nod in comprehension. That explains how Zavebe could have a conversation with mom and I the night at Blood Love.

We watch Ash and the monster communicate with each other. The Vipers are understanding every twisted word. I'm understanding absolutely
nothing
. It reminds me of the time I'd gone to the nail salon. The Asian ladies could barely speak English, so they'd used their own language to converse with one another. When they had pointed at me and laughed, I knew then and there that they were talking about me, causing me to feel like a moron.

That's how I'm feeling right now, only instead of tiny Asian ladies talking about me, it's demons from Hell. At the moment I'd rather be made fun of by the Asian ladies.

I check the faces of my comrades and notice their intense features. With my curiosity cultivating I ask, “Can you guys at least explain to me what they're talking about?” I'm beginning to get frustrated, my anger peaking a tiny bit.

“You. They're talking about you.” Phoenix's voice is deep and steady. He grabs my elbow and pulls me closer to his side, his protective emotions flowing off of him and touching me.

“They are wondering why we are in the company of Eagle scum,” Jack explains, then adds with an embarrassed grin, “The wolf's words, not mine.”

The conversation between Ash and the demon becomes heated, and I gasp when Ash pulls out a long silver knife shaped like a snake. He swipes the weapon across the wolf's chest in two blurry strokes. The demon looks baffled, gazing down at the deep X carved in its chest, which begins to glow a bright glittering gold. The light bleeds through its body, consuming it entirely before it explodes into dust, the particles vanishing before they make it to the ground.

Ash backs away slowly, keeping his eyes on our enemies, and stands with us once again. With the pack leader gone, all the wolves look at each other, speaking in what Tink and Reagan called Hell's language. Then, as a whole, they begin to wail, their horrible cries quelling the night air. They aren't howling like werewolves usually do. It's more like they're calling out, searching for something.

“What are they doing now?” I say, having to holler over their yawls.

Ash glances back at me with a peculiar expression on his face, his black eyes wide. He's about to answer when the building starts to shake, causing the lights to flicker off, leaving the roof in total blackness. The air grows sticky and hot as lightning streaks the sky, turning the night to day for a split second. A mega-huge round of thunder rumbles, the sound almost deafening. The building shakes even harder, and I would have fallen if Phoenix hadn't been there with a tight hold on my elbow.

When a loud
caw caw
rings in the air, along with the heavy beat of wings, I know right away that mother nature has nothing to do with this storm. The wind begins to blow harder, pushing us close to the edge of the roof.