Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (18 page)

“Jude, are you alright?”

He nods his head slowly. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

Taking a closer look I see that his pupils are dilated and glazed over. He also has a hint of liquor laced on his breath.

Great. Just great. Mom's sick with a stomach bug, puking her insides out, while Jude is drunk. He probably wouldn't remember this conversation later. Absolutely
freaking
great.

“Oh-Kay,” I mumble out, securing two of my sharpest Bowie knifes
to my legs, concealing them under my black pants. “Guess I'll see you later.”

His gaze slackly drifts up to the ceiling as he responds, “Yeah. Later.”

I back away from him, then turn to leave.
Bounding down the stairs to the garage I push out the strange thoughts of Jude's drunkenness and mom's sickness. Tonight's events would go down in history, definitely leaving a mark on the Touched world.

When my black
Suzuki V-Strom
comes into view, my lips tug up into a smile.

Yep. Tonight's going to rock.

***

Freedom and exhilaration flows through my body as I rev up my motorcycle and tear off into the night. I have a fresh, vibrant rush of adrenaline coursing hot in my veins. I weave in and out of traffic, not worrying one iota about being pulled over. They'd have a hard time catching this chick.

Although excitement is pumping me full of energy, there's a raw feeling of anxious nerves pounding away at my gut. Tonight I'd be working with not one, but
five
Vipers. All six of us. Together. Fighting on the same side. This, no doubt, was going to be the most interesting night of my life.

Pulling my black cycle into an overloaded alley, I turn the engine off and hop onto the trash-littered pavement. Removing my helmet and shaking out my wind-blown hair, I do a quick sweep of the alley to see if anyone or
anything
is hanging around. Lucky for me there's no one around, so I prepare to hide my ride.

A few months back, after Mom and I had destroyed a nest of Faerie demons in Central Park, I'd come across some unfinished construction in this very alley. A large hole had been dug into the brick building, though no one had bothered to have it fixed. Having a secret hiding place for my beloved bike, I was able to conceal it, send some demons to Hell, and then enjoy a nice ride home. Also I would have peace of mind that it wouldn't be stolen while I worked.

Clicking my helmet to the handlebars, I start to push it inside the brick hideout, when a male voice speaks out of the darkness.

“
Sweeeet
,” the voice says.

Taken by surprise, I pull out two Shurikens and throw them directly at the newcomer. The moment they leave my fingers, I quickly discover the unknown person is Ash. A wave of acute horror flashes across his pale face as he vanishes into a cloud of blackness, and just in time, too. The sharp points of the throwing stars become embedded deeply into the wall.

“Oh
crap
!” I shout, my hand flying to my mouth. I rush over when Ash becomes visible again, only this time he's standing a few feet away from the throwing stars. His blue eyes gleam at me with confusion.

“Gracen, what the hell?” he states loudly, reaching an unsteady hand into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“Oh, Ash, I'm so, so sorry—wait a minute—no I'm not!” I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that? Why are you even here?”

The rendezvous was just up the street from my hiding place, which had worked out swimmingly for me and my bike. The plan was to meet in front of Katie's Deli and walk the few blocks to our destination, which was a dance club called The Night Monkey. Phoenix had done some investigating and found out that a few club-goers had spotted a few dudes in werewolf costumes. In our line of work we decided it best to check it out. I mean, why would regular people be walking around in werewolf costumes? Halloween wasn't for another week or so.

But before we can figure out the werewolf infestation I need to find out why Ash is here and not waiting with the others.

Inspecting the Shurikens that had almost struck him, he glances back at me with raised eyebrows, fidgeting in his black leather jacket. “Phoenix asked me to find you because the plans changed. He and the others went ahead of us to scope out the club. Still, you didn't have to attack me.”

“What?” I shrug nonchalantly. “You were sneaking up on me. What did you expect would happen?”

“You'd give me a hug?” he replies with a goofy grin, lighting up his cigarette in the process. When he only gets an angry glower from me he puts in, “No, seriously, I'm sorry I appeared without warning you. I'm not used to announcing my arrival, but next time I'll be sure to, I don't know, call you or something.”

I study him a moment to make sure he's genuine. I'm intrigued by his sudden change of heart. He's like a totally different person tonight, raising my curiosity, though I already know that his feelings are sincere. He's also nervous and twitchy, but I already knew that would be a given.

“You should do that,” I tell him, stashing away my bike. “Unless you want to lose your eyes.”

“More like my brain,” he jokes, expiring a puff of smoke. Once again he inspects the Shurikens jammed in the wall.

Pulling the large dumpster in front of the hole, I spin around and walk over to him.

“I haven't known you long, but I'm sure your brain has been nonexistent for years.” Glaring full
y
in his face, I yank out the throwing stars and slide them into the hidden pockets of my black pants.

He grins. “I find your witty sarcasm strangely ineffective.”

I lean into him and smile sweetly. “I find your over-abundant ignorance hugely pestiferous.”

Passing by him and walking out of the alley, I start to make my way toward The Night Monkey.

“Gracen, wait.” He catches up to me, gently tugging at my arm.

“What?” I inquire, stopping in my tracks.

Dropping his arm to his side he says, “I've been thinking, and I want to apologize for the way I acted the other day.”

My jaw drops as I stare at him in utter surprise.

“No, really!” he exclaims, rubbing a trembling hand through his blonde hair. “It's been tough. And all you've been is nice. Can we start over?” His bright blue eyes peer into mine eagerly.

Wow. Phoenix's talk with him had been a success.

“Alright,” I say slowly, then shrug. “
Sure, what
the hell, sounds good to me.”

He grins. “Great.”

We walk a few steps in silence as Ash puffs away on his cancer stick.

“Phoenix said something about a dance club full of werewolves called The Nasty Monkey. Is that where we're heading?”

Rolling my eyes, I release a snicker and reply, “It's called The
Night
Monkey, and yes, there's rumors going around about some guys dressed up in werewolf costumes hanging around the club. Though Phoenix seems to think there's a little more to the story, if you catch my drift.”

“Drift has been caught,” he remarks, then cackles. “What kind of club is called The Night Monkey? I bet it's because the owners are part ape or something.

I stop walking and glance over at him. He stops also, and before I can stop myself I begin laughing so hard tears come to my eyes. His eyes narrow, studying me hard, trying to figure what has me busting my gut.

After I settle down, I give him an approving gaze. “Did you just make a funny, Ash? Because it sounded like you made a funny.”

His pale face flushes and he steers his gaze to his shoes. “I guess so.” He looks at me and grins.

“Come on,” I say, playfully slapping at his shoulder. He doesn't shy away from my touch this time. “Let's go find the others.”

Again we find ourselves walking in silence. I feel the change come on me as the clock strikes midnight. I pull out my sunglasses and slide them on. Being Friday night there would be hundreds of people on the streets and I didn't want to freak anyone out by my silver eyes. I continue to walk with Ash by my side, at first not noticing the questionable look painting his face.

“Gracen, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. Ask away.”

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Because,” I begin patiently as we continue walking down the sidewalk, “after midnight my eyes turn silver. See?” I stop him in his tracks and take off my glasses, revealing my silver orbs. His eyes grow to the size of cantaloupes.

“Wicked,” he whispers, completely enthralled.

“And these,” I point at the claw marks on each of my cheeks, “represent the Silver Eagle's scratch. Didn't Phoenix tell you all this?”

“No, he didn't.”

“Well...now you know.” With the mention of Phoenix's name I notice that Ash's tone turned dark and placid. It made me wonder what kind of relationship the two of them had, especially since Ash's dad had been the one who killed Phoenix's parents. I knew it wasn't Ash's fault for his father's actions, but I could also see where that situation could damage a friendship. Even if they had grown up practically brothers.

Cautiously I ask, “Didn't they—the people in charge of you—teach you anything about us?”

A shadow falls across his face, most likely a distant memory flashing behind his eyes. By the haunted expression on his face I'm wishing I could turn back time and
not
ask that question.

An uneasy minute passes before he informs me, “The only thing I learned about Silver Mortals was to stay away from them.” And that's all I got out of him on that matter.

The city streets we're walking are full of cabs, cars, and limousines. Most of New York's finest were on their way to expensive auctions, charity balls, and whatever else the rich people did on their Friday nights. One thing I'm certain of is that none of them are heading over to The Night Monkey, though as the night club comes into view we find that it's anything but desolate.

The club resides in the lowest, darkest part of Manhattan in a gigantic two-story building. Green and yellow neon signs blink on and off, all advertising the popular dance club. The signs also boasts that they serve every liquor known to man. The line into the club wraps around the building, the women and men all scantily and outrageously dressed. A bouncer, an Untouched human, guards the entrance to the club, letting only a few people in at a time.

A sigh of defeat escapes my lips.

“How are we supposed to get in?” I wonder aloud, my lips drawing into a frown.

“Don't worry about it,” Ash dictates as he stomps out his cigarette. He pulls a cell phone out, punches a few buttons, and puts it back in his pocket, not giving up why I shouldn't be concerned.

With my temper flaring I growl, “What do you mean
don't worry about it
? There's possibly a whole pack of werewolf demons in there, and you're telling me to—”

“Whoa, Gracen, chill out!” he cries, his hands once again shaking. “I'm simply telling you not to worry because I have a plan.”

We cease our steps, and I keep a hard glower focused on him.

“Oh really?” I smirk, grabbing his arm and jerking him close to me. “What kind of plan?”

He pokes his chest out. “I'm a Night Viper.”

“
Yeeeeah
,” I pronounce slowly. “And I'm a Silver Mortal. So what?”

“That's how we're going to get in,” he announces with a sly grin. I stare at him in wonder, then full comprehension covers me like a cold wet blanket.

“No, wait! Someone might see—”

I'm unable to finish my outcry because Ash wraps me tightly against his chest. I get a face full of cigarette smoke and deodorant. All the lights from the neon signs disappear as darkness swallows us up, our feet no longer touching the ground. My eyes involuntarily close as the black mist and strong winds enclose around us. My heart is thundering in my chest, my thoughts a big blur, as a discombobulated feeling slithers through my veins. As soon as that feeling starts, though, it's over. The bottoms of my feet are now touching the ground. I open my eyes...

And that's when I lay into Ash.

“What
is wrong with you?” I push him up against a wall, my finger pointed in his face. “Are you crazy? Are you wanting to get caught? And what would have happened if someone had seen us just magically appear out of nowhere, huh?”

I'm so angry with him I want to shove his head through the wall. How could he risk us being seen? We could have popped up anywhere in this club—what if we'd appeared right in the middle of the dance floor?

“G-Gracen,” he says, his hands lifted in defeat. “Look, I got us in and no one saw. We're on the second floor and practically no one comes up here.”

“Practically no one comes up...” Rage starts to spill out of me, my surroundings turning red. “What if tonight had been the one night that someone came up here—what would we do then?”

He shakes his head. “I-I don't know...” He trails off, his whole body a big quiver. He's feeling fear, and my lips lift in a smile. I have the sudden urge to take my knifes out and slice him—