Silver Mortal (The Gracen Chronicles) (25 page)

My stomach growls in response.

Phoenix chuckles. “I think someone's hungry.”

“I am. It's been awhile.”

Getting up and helping me to my feet he says, “Come on. We have a gourmet dinner of pepperoni pizza to eat.”

I grin, though tears still burn my eyes. “That sounds perfect.”

We sit down and demolish the pizza in five minutes. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I reached for my third piece. After we finished we both stared at each other, our tummies full. Phoenix checks his watch and looks at me.

“We still have six hours until midnight,” he informs me.

“What should we do?” I wonder out loud.

He thinks a moment then answers, “Maybe we should rest up...at least two hours or so.”

I nod. “Sounds good to me.”

We get up and walk over to the bed. I snuggle in first, followed by him. I lay on my side and close my eyes. He covers the both of us up, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. I don't object. This is what I want at the moment. This may be the last time we lay in each others arms.

“Phoenix?”

“Hmm?”

“If we make it back home, what will become of us?”

He sighs into my hair, a full minute passing before he replies, “We'll make every second count.” I open my eyes when he gently turns me around to face him. “We'll go back to school like nothing's happened. Tink will start school, Jack and Reagan can get out and work, Ash can get to know his sister...” He trails off as his fingers lightly stroke my cheek.

“What about me and you?” I inquire, my eyelids becoming heavy.

He grins, touching his forehead to mine. “I'm going to take you on a date. No demons, weapons, fighting—just dinner, a movie, and whatever else you want to do.” His answer causes a flutter in my belly and a smile to grace my lips.

“Whatever I want, huh?”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers, kissing my cheek and pulling me into him, his chin resting on my head.

The warmth of his body, the contentment that dominates his emotions, makes me feel safe and sure. The thought that as long as I'm hooked in his grasp makes me sure that nothing, and I mean nothing can get a hold of me. My eyes slowly drift closed, and I listen to his heart beating in his chest, the rhythm a calming solution for my anxious nerves. With a full stomach of pizza and after having a few sleepless nights, my body is telling me to shut down for awhile. But I'm fighting it. I don't want this moment to end. I want to remember this forever.

Though in a Silver Mortal's world, nothing stays the way it should.

***

Heart pounding. Mind racing. Legs pumping. Darkness all around me, a chill so abstruse it seeps through my skin and freezes my soul. Where am I? Why am I running? What am I running from?

“It's you I want, Gracen. Only you.”

The jarring voice reminds me of why I'm fleeing. Of what I'm fleeing from. It's him. Alexander. My father. His laughter echoes all around me. I keep moving, pushing my legs harder, faster.

A light. I see a light! Up ahead. A surge of relief floods through me, and I think maybe, just maybe, it will be my key to freedom. There's a light at the end of this blackened tunnel. If I can reach it, I can get away.

I'd be free.

But wait...what's that?

It's Ash! At the end of the tunnel. I know it's him. His blonde hair is shiny, a halo of light covering his crown. He's on his knees and it sounds like he's weeping. His shoulders are slumped as if he's given up. As if he's defeated.

I can help him! I can get him away from Alexander. We can be free.

We all can.

Reaching Ash I fall to my knees and grab his shoulder, turning him to face me.

“Got you,” Alexander whispers, his hand squeezing mine.

I begin to scream and...

“Gracen...Gracen...Gracen!”

My eyes fly open and I sit up with a jerk. With the strange dream still fresh in my mind it takes me a minute to remember where I am. When Phoenix's concerned face materializes in front of me, that's when I remember.

I'm at a warehouse, his home, sleeping in Jack and Reagan's bed. It's dark outside, the yellow light from an outside lamppost filtering in through the dirty windows.

“W-What is i-it?” I stutter, my eyes wide in the dark room.

“You were screaming,” he tells me, wiping a sweat-soaked strand of hair out of my face. “Did you have another dream?”

“Yes,” I mumble, fighting shivers that begin to attack my body.

Studying me with acute concentration he inquires, “Did it tell you anything?”

I nod and again whisper, “Yes.”

“What did it tell you?”

I look him straight in the eyes. “Alexander said he only wants me.”

An anguished expression paints his face, mirroring the way I feel. Abruptly he crushes me into him, kissing the top of my head. His protectiveness and affection wraps around me like a warm blanket made of pure love. I twine my arms around his waist, listening to the fast beat of his heart. I know what he's about to say, and I'm wishing he wouldn't say it, but he has to.

And he does.

“It's almost midnight,” he says quietly, leaning back to peer me fully in the face. “It's time to go.”

We start packing up our weapons. Phoenix had been able to get knifes, throwing stars, and a few flares. He'd also retrieved my Katana, which I secure tightly to my back. I strap my bowing knifes around my calves, underneath my jeans, and fill my pockets with a few Shurikens. I pull my hair into a tight ponytail, while he fastens his battle axes to a belt around his waist. He carries a black leather bag with the flares and extra knifes.

We are ready to go to Botis Island.

“Be ready to encounter Sniffers,” he informs me. “They guard the island and are pretty easy to handle. You'll be able to take them.”

“Okay,” I say nervously.

We face each other when the clock strikes midnight. Phoenix watches my transformation with amazement, his gaze settling on my silver eyes.

“Before we go, promise me one thing,” he whispers in a sad tone.

“Anything,” I whisper back.

He takes my face in his hands. “Don't change.
Ever
.”

He leans down and gives me a kiss, a soft, tender touch that burns through my veins and curls my toes. With his lips stuck on mine, his arms folded around my waist, darkness envelops us as we begin our journey to Botis Island.

chapter 22

Arriving on Botis Island I'm unable to suppress the gasp that explodes from my mouth. I can't believe what my eyes are seeing.

The area is a wasteland of death. The ground, the trees
,
everything is blackened and scorched, the scent of fire and brimstone dominating the dry, humid air, along with blood and decay. Waves crash onto the rocky shore, the water thick and red. The sky above us is darkened with flashes of lightning here and there, followed by rumbles of thunder. Putting all of the scenery together paints a picture of evil, of what the truth holds about this place.

A place of pure torture and intense fear.

In the distance I can see a large black mountain made of rock. It appears alive, demons of all sorts, shapes, and sizes squirming all over its surface. Many circular holes in the rocky edifice serve as windows, reminding me of a beehive with demons writhing around. Flickers of yellow light shine from these holes. Growls of hate and screams of pain can be heard flying through the sticky air. I'm not sure if the ones screaming are human or

inhuman. Probably a little of both. A churning cloud of gray smoke hovers over the mountain peak, shrouding any type of light that may try to penetrate through.

“Welcome to Hell,” I hear Phoenix mumble next to me. Glancing up at him another gasp emerges from my lips. His eyes have changed to the color of black ink, and the lips that had just kissed me are twisted into a vicious snarl. The black viper on his face has lifted above his skin, the edges turning a bright red.

“Phoenix,” I say cautiously. My mouth sews shut when his black orbs shoot to me, unblinking. This is a side of him I haven't seen until today. Even when he'd gotten angry at Billy Stanton, the anger from that day could not compare to this. The fury and rage he's feeling right now is enough to make the Eagle inside me nervous.

“It looks the same,” he murmurs, stirring his gaze back to the huge rock mountain. “Smells the same, feels the same. Same pain, same torture, same oppression, same heaviness.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out, his nostrils flaring. “This is the place nightmares come true. And you're lucky if you survive.”

I place a hand on his arm. “It must have been terrible for you. First losing your parents, then being sent here, only being ten years old.” I pause, lifting my eyes to the huge black rock, then back to him. “You must have been so scared.”

He turns his gaze on me, his black eyes piercing through me. There's a haunted glint in them, making me wonder what they had done to him so many years ago.

Gently, he shrugs out of my grasp and says, “We better get moving. Just follow my steps and try not to make noise. They most likely already know we're here, and I wouldn't be surprised if they've released the Sniffers.”

Without another word he turns around and starts heading toward the rock mountain. I want to tell him I'm sorry about everything that happened to him, about bringing the whole mess up, but I decide to let it go. We are heading to the proverbial lion's den and neither one of us knows if we'll ever see the light of day again.

I follow close behind him, careful to step exactly where he steps. The ground is rough and uneven, causing me to almost face plant to the ground a few times. At one time there must have been woodlands, but now only their charred stumps remain. Thick vines are scattered underneath the scorched landscape. In my head I piece together that the vines represent the veins and arteries of the island, keeping it alive by pumping wicked blackness to its heart.

This place is unusual and hard to put in exact words. I've never seen an island as disturbing as this one. If I lived through this and ever felt the need to write horror flicks, I'd start off using Botis Island as my muse.

As we climb up the mountain toward Botis's lair, the air becomes heavier and harder to breathe. The stench of death and sewage is getting worse with each uneven step. My mouth is super dry, so I pull out a bottle of water and take a gulp, the cool liquid feeling heavenly as it slides down my throat. I'm about to ask Phoenix if he'd like some, but before I can he halts his steps, his arm shooting out in front of me. His head tilts to the side and he sniffs the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my supernatural intuition spiking.

“We're being followed,” I say out loud, though I'd meant to keep it in my head.

“No,” Phoenix says softly. “We're being stalked.”

In a blur of motion, he pushes me to the ground. At the same time he slings two knifes behind me, twin howls of pain following after, filling the night air and dying out quickly. I turn around just in time to see two Hell Hounds burn a bright red, then fade to dust. A gust of wind blows away their remains.

Before they had turned to dust I'd been able to get an eyeful of their disgusting appearance. They had stood on four legs, though they had to be at least five feet tall. Their hair had been black and wiry, their teeth sharp and white, and their eyes a glowing bright red. They were everything I'd imagined Satan's favorite pets would look like.

“Are you okay?” Phoenix rushes out, helping me back to my feet.

“Yeah,” I reply, shaking the cobwebs from my brain. I'm still in shock by the sudden intrusion of Sniffers.

He checks me over, his concerned expression warming my heart and instantly settling my nerves. After making sure I'm alright, he walks over to where the Hell Hounds had just been and recovers the knifes.

“We'll need to be ready for more,” he advises me, keeping the knifes in his hands. “Their death cries most likely alerted the whole island. More are probably on the way.”

“So we need to keep moving,” I finish for him, pulling out my water and taking another swig. The humidity on this island is making my mouth extra dry.

He smiles slightly, nodding his head. “The faster we find them, the faster we can get off this wretched island.” I hand the bottle of water to him, where his finishes it off, throwing the empty bottle to the ground.

“Litter much?” I question, my eyebrows raised.

“Look around,” he decrees, gesturing to the diseased landscape. “Do you really think a water bottle will do any damage?”

I smile. “You have a point.”

He walks passed me and grins. “Come on. Let's keep moving.”

Again we find ourselves trekking up the mountain. As we get closer the lightning becomes more frequent, along with the sound of thunder. Wind begins strewing debris, making it hard to see in front of us. My eyes burn with the dirt and dust swirling around me. When a loud
caw caw
rings through the air, we freeze in our tracks. Peering up at the sky, squinting through the debris storm, I can make out a huge raven. The Silver Eagle stirs within me as I pull my Katana out, bracing for battle.