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them. They're powerful, deceptive, and can completely drain a Silver Mortal of their powers during battle. Taking a look at Mom I watch as all the color drains from her face, which sets my nerves on fire. Mother is always the strong one, but the feeling of fear rolling off of her body causes me to think she's not as strong as I thought.
    Oh, that's another power we Silver Mortals possess—we can feel a persons emotions, read them like an open book. We're like emotion detectors, and right now my mom is scared.
    Getting in between me and the Fallen Angel, Mom says, “Zavebe...I never thought I'd see you again, especially after I sent you back to the pit.”
    “ Zavebe ?” I take a step to stand next to mom, glaring at her. “Mom, you never told me about a freaking Fallen Angel named Zavebe!”
    “And how funny it is,” she continues, ignoring my remark, “that you turn back up with your little legion of misfits just as soon as my daughter shows up on radar.”
    Zavebe lets out an obnoxious laugh, the vicious gleam in his black eyes growing. “That's the best time, isn't it? To pounce on the freshest of meat? And besides, she's still young, easy to influence. She has the freewill to choose what she wants to be.”
    “Okay, look, I'm right here, so don't talk like I'm not,” I tell them with anger and confusion skidding across my brain. Glowering at the Fallen Angel I say, “And anyway, Mr. Zavebe, I'm not a puppet for someone to control. No one influences me, not you, not my mother, nobody .”
    The room fills with demonic laughter, all the vamps thinking what I'd just said was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.
    His black eyes zone in on me and he smiles, and that's when I notice his teeth. They're black, sharp, and pointy...all three rows of them. He was now in his true form. Black feathery wings protrude from his back, fanning the air around him. His hands are huge with thick, five-inch black claws, which he closes and opens at his waist. He rips off his pin-striped jacket, throwing it to the ground. Insanely huge muscles can be seen tightening and rippling under his white t-shirt, every vein popping out over his skin. His muscles are so large he looks as if he's about to pop. This is my first Fallen Angel meeting, and I would be lying if I said that I'm not scared and about to pee myself. I mean, this Zavebe creep is way up high on my crap-o-meter of most freakiest beings I've seen in my sixteen years.
    “Oh Ellen,” Zavebe says, his eyes still raking over me, “your daughter is very exciting! She'd make a fine trophy to take back home with me. Maybe even get some points from my lord...that is, if her fa—”
    I interrupt his rant by raising my sword and pointing it at his chest. “I'm not going an ywhere with you, you piece of —”
    “Gracen, don't,” Mom strictly orders, her hand guiding my sword downward. “You're not ready for this.”
    I'm unable to hide my disappointment, openly gawking at her. I stay speechless, but can't believe what she's saying. All the hard work I've been doing, yet she doesn't think I'm ready? It's not right, not right at all.
    “Besides,” she continues in a voice just above a whisper, “I've taken care of it.” Her silver eyes gaze intently at me and that's when I know—something's about to happen.
    That's when it did.
    A loud boom sounds on the far end of the room, catching the demons and the fallen angel by surprise. A boarded up window had exploded, sending pieces of plywood through the air, some stabbing into the unsuspecting demons. A figure dressed all in black from head to toe emerges from the window, throwing little grenades into the crowd. I also see he's carrying some sort of flares.
    “Y'all ready for a real party?!” a man's voice sounds, and I immediately know who it is. Before I can say anything mom pulls me into the hallway behind the curtain, pushing me into the closest room.
    “Mom, it's Jude—”
    “I know, honey,” she cuts in, pushing me to