Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  “Dorian is missing, and you told me not to let him out of my sight for a while. He’s not answering his phone, and one of his jets is missing from the hangar. I’m not going to be punished for this. I had a major upset in my House yesterday that I had no choice but to deal with. I can’t help it if—”

  The phone tumbles from my hand, and I take off in a sprint toward Sanctuary. Leaping over benches, cars, and anything else in my way, I dash like a madman across town.

  The doors are too slow opening, and I end up ramming one so hard it breaks off its hinges, as I race by a stunned Shera.

  “I didn’t know it was that important!” she calls to my back like she’s worried I’m going to kill her later.

  My shoulder slams into Violet’s office door, and it breaks in half, allowing me to stumble inside.

  In the next instant, I’m zapped so hard that I’m crashing back through the remnants of the door, my breath getting blown out of me.

  I hit the marble floor so hard that it cracks under me and jars a grunt loose, and I blink a few times.

  “What…the…hell?” Shera asks in a hushed whisper behind me.

  I peer through the wrecked door at the colorful cocoon of threads that have a body encased like a mummy. But my eyes widen when I see all the electrical sparks dancing around the room…and I take in all the bent metal that has seemingly destroyed the office.

  Anna is perched on the windowsill, casting us a bored look.

  “Violet will be angry if she finds out you were here instead of an important meeting that could cost omegas their lives. You’d better not let anyone die after what he made her endure,” she says in a dead tone. “I’d be embarrassed if I was an ancient alpha, who had the element of surprise against a new little monster, who hasn’t fully learned to defend herself against his type, and still couldn’t win.”

  I blink in more surprise when three familiar, impossible triplets show up on her left. They all smile in creepy unison.

  “Didn’t she tell you we’re back?” they asks in eerie synchronization. “We followed Anna out.”

  Anna shrugs a shoulder. “Couldn’t leave my friends behind.”

  “What the hell is going on?” I snap, shoving up from the floor.

  I feel the humming of the electricity warning me to keep my distance when I step too close.

  “Dorian thought he could push her around. Turns out, he was wrong,” they answer.

  Idly, I remember the times her bedroom window gave me a good shock. But it was on a much smaller scale than this offers.

  “When the electricity hums in a certain pattern, it magnetizes her,” Anna adds as she hops off the desk and strolls over to the cocoon. “I’d have fetched you, but I needed to stay here and keep the metal from slicing her in half, since she was working blindly and all.”

  “Why is she still cocooned if she managed to get rid of him?” I ask, desperate to go to her.

  “Your brother forced his way into her mind after she fainted. I don’t know how this works. Surely you know more than I do about this sort of thing,” the ghost tells me like I’m an idiot.

  If he forced his way into her mind after she shut it off, then she could be trapped in an unending state of paranoia, still fighting illusions that are no longer generated by him.

  I’ll kill him if she’s even a little bit harmed from this.

  “He wants to provoke you,” the triplets tell me.

  “You three, stop talking. I can only handle dealing with one reborn ghost at a time during some fucked up shit like this,” I tell them, taking a deep breath.

  Shera’s stammering voice cuts in next. “I-I never heard anything. This room isn’t soundproofed, and—”

  “Illusions can be broader than just what the eye can see,” I interrupt, attempting to stay calm as I let my heart beat faster, working my monster close to the surface to be at the fullest power I can. “You may think you know a lot about my people, but we’re a private lot for a reason. We lack the physicality of the others, so we make up for it with another form of strength. Knowledge is power, and senses are a weakness we can extort.”

  When my heartbeat is moving so fast it’s nearly a steady hum in my chest, I break through the first seal of Violet’s mind, and…stumble to a halt.

  Usually, it’s dark madness. In here? It’s utter chaos and floating madness.

  “What the hell?” I ask on a whispered breath, noting all the pieces of broken mirrors floating, each piece frozen with a reflection of my own face.

  That son of a bitch used my image against her…

  My jaw grinds, as I look around at the upside-down, dizzying swirls on every wall, blinking a few times in surprise.

  How did she know Dorian and some of the others struggle with hypnotic images? I’ve never shared that information with any living soul, and neither has any member of my family.

  Not even the guys know about that weakness.

  Carnival music is playing in an almost muted tone, and I stumble once again over the wreckage. Piles and piles of stuffed animals litter the ground, as the Carnival music plays on a loop. A Jack pops out of a box right next to me, and I startle away from it.

  Son of a bitch. What is this fresh madhouse?

  “Violet!” I call, but immediately the music starts blaring louder, as though her mind is purposely drowning me out.

  “Violet!”

  The volume steadily rises, almost forcing my ears to ache.

  I’m both impressed by her ability to achieve something of this magnitude, and terrified to learn what brought about such desperate measures.

  With some unsteady movements, I move through the carnival rides that start spinning and circling in dizzying motions all around me. He was definitely ejected. Dorian wouldn’t have ever held up in here.

  To be honest, I haven’t fed enough to contend with something this disruptive to my skill.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Violet somehow managed to control her own mind against Dorian’s grasp, but how did she know his weakness?

  It’s more his weakness than mine. We learned we could never be a carnival’s sideshow, because of all the dizzying spectacles that affected so many of my family’s illusions.

  The mind is a precarious thing. Even ours are subject to some restrictions.

  Physical things to trip over, and a world created for the sole purpose of eliminating Dorian…

  This is masterful.

  I trip again, falling this time, and curse.

  This time, it’s a bunch of baby doll heads staring up at me, and I’m creeped right the hell out. Some are missing one or both eyes, and all are smiling brightly up at me.

  One even giggles at me, as another coos.

  I’m starting to find my girlfriend’s mind a little scary.

  “You want to fuck with me, then come on,” I hear Violet’s voice call out. “See if you can find me, you crazy son of a bitch. Your daddy issues are not my issues!”

  What the hell?

  She comes charging out of a dark corner so suddenly that I almost don’t react, still distracted by all the blurry movements surrounding me. At the last minute, I catch her foot before it can connect with my face, and I leap to my feet.

  It trips her up, and I catch her, scooping her into my arms.

  She pauses her hand next to my face, stopping herself from slapping me, as her brow furrows. I quirk an eyebrow at her, feigning a calmness I don’t feel at all.

  Dorian attacked her.

  He broke into her mind.

  How she managed to figure out his weakness is beyond me.

  “The dizzying patterns work best on him. I’m only hindered by them to a certain extent,” I tell her, watching as tears start filling up in her eyes.

  “How do I know if it’s really you?” she asks on a rasp, tired breath, her body starting to shake in my arms.

  “Surely you feel the difference, or you wouldn’t have stopped yourself from striking me, sweet monster. How did you figure out his
weakness?”

  She opens and closes her mouth, a sob catching in her throat, as more tears start to leak down her cheeks.

  “Please really be you,” she says instead of answering, her body giving a full shiver.

  “Trust what you know. Trust what you feel. Playing with the mind isn’t an easy task. You can only control so much. He never felt like me, Violet. You know it to be true,” I tell her, sincerely hoping he didn’t manage to—

  “There was no feeling in the visions when he touched me,” she whispers, almost as though she’s talking to herself.

  “He fucking touched you? Where and how?” I growl, my grip on her tightening.

  She stares up at me, and her breath blows out in relief. In the next instant, she fades from my arms.

  I dart a look around, certain she must be moving back into consciousness, and hop out of her mind.

  An ache immediately strikes me when reality abruptly comes back into play, and I open my eyes to see the marble under me and feel a sharp pain in my nose and chin.

  “You sort of face-planted all of the sudden after you went in there. Is that a normal thing? If so, maybe you should lie down next time. Your best feature is your face,” Anna tells me from right beside my head.

  I push up abruptly, glancing over when I spot the threads unraveling from Violet’s body, watching the numerous sparks of electricity, as they roll off her.

  “It’s aliiiiiiiive!” Anna shouts in a deep, theatrical tone.

  Wiping away a smear of blood from my nose, I watch as Violet timidly peers through the threads, spotting me next to the triplets, who…will be investigated when I’m not fighting back fury and fire.

  Dorian will pay.

  But for now, Violet needs to see me calm.

  Destroy him, the old, familiar, almost-forgotten hiss of my monster whispers inside my mind.

  “Easy, sweet monster. It’s really me. This electrical shock zone is a new one on me. But to be honest, I appreciate the fact you have more defenses than I realized,” I tell her.

  Her tearstained eyes meet mine, and I see the relief cross through her gaze. Shera is staring on with wider eyes, stumbling closer.

  “I-I’m so sorry. I still don’t know what happened. What happened?” the trembling, shell-shocked vampire asks her.

  “Shera, go get her some water,” I say as the threads take their time unraveling.

  Dorian couldn’t break her threads. It doesn’t look like he even managed to fray them.

  My breath slowly eases into my lungs with that bit of comfort, but the relief is fleeting. As the threads finish falling away, I take in more damage than I was prepared to see.

  Her throat is bruised with fingerprints, and her body is striped with welts, proof of internal and external torture. My jaw grinds, and I feel my monster working hard to surge forth.

  Her face is stained by so many tears that it’s almost unbearable to look upon right now. And her shirt is ripped open, as though things had started to progress before she managed to seal herself away.

  She grimaces as she sits up, and the last of the sparks finally disappear. Only a few minor shocks strike me as I stalk through the room. In one motion, I stoop, lift her from the floor, and cradle her to me. I bury my nose in her hair, as her body sags with exhaustion against mine.

  “Violet,” I say on a broken whisper, holding her closer. “Did he—”

  “No. No,” she assures me, shaking her head. “Nothing happened or got too close to happening. I was able to shut him down. Anna surprised him and distracted him long enough for me to get—”

  I don’t let her finish, because I’m too busy holding her closer, crushing her tired body to mine. Subtle rage begins to simmer in my veins, gradually pressing closer to the surface until the room’s temperature begins to slowly rise.

  I feel my monster fighting to seize control and claim her, leave my mark imprinted so deep on her that she never has to fear attacks like this ever again.

  “I’m okay, Damien. I swear,” she says, her arms winding around my neck as she hugs me.

  “Don’t comfort me, Violet. That’s my job right now,” I remind her, exhaling harshly, as I stare across at the broken mirrors and bent pieces of steel.

  “H-how did you do this?” Shera asks on a hushed breath, possibly seeing a taste of Violet’s power for the first time.

  “Simpletons and electricity. You know,” Violet tells her dismissively, hugging me closer when I drop to the ground, still clinging to her like I need the assurance she’s in one, untouched piece.

  She stays in my lap, not elaborating on that bullshit excuse for an answer to Shera.

  Gypsies and salt, she says.

  Simpletons and electricity, she says.

  “Shera, give us some privacy,” I say without looking back, hearing her walk away without argument.

  The ghosts all vanish from the room with her.

  “How did you know his weakness?” I ask her.

  “Another voice told me what to do,” she confesses quietly.

  Another voice, she says.

  She says these things like they’re supposed to make sense and we’re supposed to simply accept it as the only answer available.

  Could her monster have spoken to her? No, how would her monster know Dorian’s weakness?

  Maybe one of her spying ghosts figured it out?

  My anger is too consuming for me to be rational, and I don’t even think before my lips are on hers, kissing her, despite what she’s faced today, because I’m a selfish man who needs her touch too much right now. She doesn’t deny me, but there’s no heat in her kiss.

  I quickly break my mouth away from hers, remembering the frozen images of me in the shattered mirrors of her mind.

  “He used my face while torturing you?” I ask quietly, belying the growing fury inside my veins. “You’ll never be able to see me without thinking about him again.”

  My teeth clench, and my eyes flutter shut.

  “I’ll be fine, Damien. Considering the fact I’ve dealt with a lethal cult my entire life, I’m not quite that fragile,” she grumbles. “But I’m still mad at you for being the asshole who watched his girlfriend on TV, and I don’t want you to think it’s all okay because I’m suddenly kissing you whenever you want to be kissed.”

  I blink down at her, as she peers up at me with a pointed look, devoid of any fear or any other emotion, for that matter.

  I think of how she fell apart in that vehicle the day after Idun flogged her.

  Violet’s muffled scream is only half as devastating as her body shaking with her mostly muted sobs. Arion is seconds away from touching her, but his hand pulls back in a fist, and he jerks away, staring anywhere but at her.

  The wolf’s jaw is clenched as tightly as my own, dark and furious vengeance resting in his menacing eyes. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that much anger in him.

  My own fury has brought about a calmness over me, and I study Violet with renewed determination.

  Never. Again.

  “Damien, are you even listening to me?” Violet’s voice cuts in, bringing me back to the present.

  I consistently fail her, and then on goes the brave face. It’s good she can take better care of herself than I can take of her. My lips graze her forehead, and I pull her closer.

  She releases a harsh sigh and withdraws enough to give me a steely look. It’s so resolved and steady that it almost makes me think I imagined that moment of relief, fear, and vulnerability that was there just moments ago.

  “I beat him. He didn’t beat me. I locked him out, and then you showed up. It didn’t last too long. I really am fine,” she promises me in a near spitfire fashion, while cupping my cheek. “It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked. Waking up in a coffin with Emit was way more traumatizing.”

  She shrugs out of my arms, casually stretching as she stands, as though this is now any other day and all’s well.

  “Besides, he wanted me to hate your face. I’d never le
t him win, and it would have taken a lot more than that to even shake my confidence,” she adds as she glances over her shoulder and down to me. “He really does hate you. He forced me to watch some reruns of his early days.”

  Slowly, I stand to my feet, dusting the glass off me.

  “Dorian is dangerously fucked up. It took me a long time to realize the damage our father was doing to him and how wrong it all was. I was in my mid-twenties before I truly grasped it. I idolized my father in those days. He was the best, most powerful gypsy I’d ever known, and I was proud he was my Pa,” I state quietly, needing the distraction, as I try to get my monster on its leash before I really do go and claim her.

  Now’s certainly not the time to fuck up like that. She’s been through enough for one day.

  “What about now?” she asks me, her fingers slowly lacing with mine.

  “Now I’m the one my father wishes he could disown, since Dorian is the one in all the legends. He’s the only one in our family with any mention left of his name.”

  “He’d rather be you,” she says on a tired breath. “I’ve never met someone so viciously jealous of someone else. Talk about sibling rivalry.”

  “That’s because he was the true first-born, and Father treated him like the family’s unwanted obligation and slave. Then he fell in love with Idun, who only used him to break my fucking heart. When she chased me afterwards, he hated me more than he’s ever hated me. So yes, he does envy me, and he’s entirely too fucked up for you to ever have to deal with again.”

  My eyes settle on her throat where I see the bruises growing more and more prominent, along with the red welts that are only growing more visible.

  Welts like that come from attacking the sensory nerves in full force. Illusions don’t leave marks unless they’re set to max power.

  I swallow the bile in my throat, still feigning a calmness I don’t feel.

  “He kept my heartbeat from dropping by stabbing me with phantom knives or something,” she says when she sees my gaze lingering on the many, many welts. “It hurt, but it wasn’t worse than a lightning feeding, Damien. Seriously, I promise I’m okay.”

  I nod slowly, though I feel my vision trying to dim, as I take one step back, and then another.