Silver (The Silver Series Book 1)

SILVER 

 By Cheree L. Alsop 

Copyright  2011 by Cheree L. Alsop 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.  

Cover Design by Andy Hair 

www.ChereeAlsop.com  

Chapter 1 

I knew the contents of the trunk by heart; a brown leather jacket so worn the cloth showed through in places, an empty bottle of cologne that still held its scent, an old pair of sparing gloves with faded knuckles, and a couple of sheets of paper covered in the precise penmanship of the son of a teacher. A Hunter would kill me if he ever found the trunk, but Mom knew better than to suggest I get rid of it. 

I pushed it back under my bed. My heart ached at the scent that lingered, but I forced myself to get on with unpacking. I wondered with a glance at the multitude of cardboard boxes if it was futile to pursue emptying them, but the thought of inactivity and the barrage of memories it brought sent a shudder down my spine and I turned back to work. 

Night chased the shadows of evening from the street below. I couldn't see the moon through my window, but knew it would be full in a week and a half. I didn't need to look at the calendar anymore; I could feel it in my bones. I tossed several shirts into the closet and went down for dinner even though my stomach twisted at the thought of the spaghetti and meatballs that touched the air with their wheat and tomato scent. 

"Do you have everything ready for school tomorrow?" Mom smiled, but her tight eyes and creased forehead belied her cheerful demeanor. 

I nodded and swallowed another bite of spaghetti without tasting it. 

"Did you find your backpack? I was worried you wouldn't find it in all those boxes." 

The strange tone in her voice caught my attention. I looked up to see tears tracing lines down her cheeks. My heart clenched away from her pain, shoving me back into the black void I had buried myself in to survive the past couple of weeks. I couldn't let her face her pain alone, but I didn't have to face my own.  

I rose and hugged her tight where she sat in her chair. She froze for a split second, then turned against my chest and started to sob. I patted her head, smoothing the long strands of dark blond hair. It was hard not to say anything, hard not to let the fire in my throat and the ache in my chest turn into its own sob, but I forced it back. A single tear traced down my cheek; I wiped it off before she saw. 

"We're gonna be okay, Mom," I whispered. I stared out the kitchen window. I searched the darkness for golden eyes, but only my own image reflected back at me. It wasn't the image I held in my head. 

I looked older, worn. The past two weeks had aged me more than I could have guessed. My stare reflected back hard and angry, my jaw clenched tight. Strands of blond hair fell in front of my eyes, eyes the same dark brown that dad's had been. I shook my head to clear them and turned away from my reflection, angry at the things it didn't show. 

"A new school, a new territory," Mom said, her shoulders bowed. She shook her head. "You shouldn't have to go through this alone. It could be dangerous." 

I couldn't help the wry tone that came to my voice. "There is no one else, Mom. I'll be okay. Who's going to mess with me?" But we both knew the truth. I stepped away. "I'll be in the backyard for a bit."