Damien’s lips are on mine in the next instant, his monster growling as though he’s frustrated that I’ve been too removed from his thrall.
I’m right back under his spell in the next instant, forgetting what distracted me, as my body begs for more.
Chapter 9
VANCE
The scent of sex hits me so hard that I damn near fly into a jealous rage. I’ve never had to work so bloody hard to impress a woman.
I am impressive.
Women throw themselves at my feet.
Even Idun worked tirelessly to draw me in.
Violet?
Violet is a maddening ball of frustration who confounds my bloody mind more with each passing day.
“Women, huh?” the male ghost asks from directly beside me.
I haven’t been able to shake him much in the past two days.
“Why are you stalking my every move?” I ask, tempted to stab Damien when I hear Violet crying out his name like he’s the best lover she’s ever had in her life.
He’s a sexual deviant. I’ve never envied him so much as I have since Violet came around and loved that about him.
He barely takes any responsibility. It’s rare he does much of anything besides mope and bitch. Yet he’s up there giving her the ride of her life, and she’s loving every second of it.
Emit’s mated to her.
She’s clearly hurling herself right back at Arion, already caving to him once.
Damien’s had her numerous times, possibly more than her own mate.
Why does she always reward bad behavior?
“Answer me!” I snap at the ghost, who stumbles back in surprise.
“Dude, you are wound way too tight. Violet asked me to keep an eye on you since she was worried about you. She said you have a lot going on right now, and she had to take care of Damien. Plus, I messed up my last job,” he says as though any of that makes a damn bit of sense to me.
I run a hand through my hair in frustration, my eyelids fluttering shut, as I attempt to take a few calming breaths. Nope. Not working. I still want to stab Damien Morpheous right in his magical dick.
“I’ve never in my life envied any man. I don’t have to. I’m Vancetto Van Helsing,” I grind out, glaring at the son of a bitch ghost who has not given me one ounce of privacy. “The only reason you’re allowed to see this and live is because Violet has this obnoxious way of making ridiculous demands, and not seeing that she’s being demanding, because she doesn’t understand the severity of the regulations we have in place.”
He nods like that makes perfect sense.
“She says she’s going to be a better girlfriend,” he tells me, smiling like this is some splendid news.
These new age fucks really piss me off.
“Stop being such a twat who is supportive and shit!” I say, ready to cut something.
Anything.
I will literally cut down anything at all. The one time I’ve begged for a hunt in centuries, and I can’t get a single one to pan out.
Because I’m much too distracted by the fact I’m still on the outs with the woman I was planning to propose to before I knew Idun ever even rose from her undead bitch grave.
I’m just going to put it all out there and let Violet decide—
I swing the door open to the very demolished bedroom that is full of broken mirrors, to find Violet under a fully monstrous Damien Morpheous.
He has her clutched to him, hissing toward me like he’s going to rip my head off if I move one step closer.
Violet peers over at me with tired eyes, as she reaches up and grabs Damien’s shoulders.
“If he loses his hold over me for long, it really pisses him off. You should go. He doesn’t seem to—”
He starts to lunge, and she grapples for him, as I slam the door and stalk down the stairs, growing increasingly furious.
I just walked in on Damien Morpheous laying claim to his Flame.
“I take it you’re not okay with her taking another mate? I thought you guys were cool with sharing,” the nuisance of a ghost says.
“Edward, by the way. My name is Edward,” the ghost says like he’s annoyed I haven’t already asked.
“I thought it was something else,” I grind out.
“Violet discovered I was lying,” he mumbles.
“I wish, for one bloody second, I knew what the hell is going on, Edward,” I grind out.
He nods. “It’s been a very enlightening few months for Violet. She pushed all of you away because she got overwhelmed, and she’s actually struggling to find her place in this new world. You guys sat around watching your ex, so her feelings got hurt. Understandably so.”
My fist shoves through his incorporeal face, because I really do need to hit something.
This sensitive prick has never had to dirty his sword with another’s blood for the sake of protecting his woman, and dares to pretend he knows our feelings.
He vanishes and reappears a few feet away, laughing under his breath.
“No touchy-feely observations. Message received,” the son of bitch says as he continues to grin at me.
I barely catch the scent of wolf in time to turn to see Emit Morrigan moving by me in a whir of motion. Turning as fast as I can, I catch a glimpse of him rushing into Damien’s room.
Shit.
Damien will destroy him right now.
Running back up the stairs to the room, I throw open the door, and again, Damien turns and hisses at me, even though he seems fine with the fact Emit is naked and pulling Violet into his arms.
“Sorry,” Emit says against her lips as I drag the door to barely a crack.
Damien loses interest in me, his body moving behind Violet’s, as he contently shares her with the wolf.
What the actual fuck?
“I can’t go without you any longer, though,” Emit tells her.
“You’d better be glad I love the two of you. Otherwise, my vagina would protest right now. First it went neglected, and now I’m getting so much action that I can’t keep up,” she says back, almost as though she’s prickly and excited about his arrival.
But I’m more focused on the first part. The part where she casually told him she loved them, as if it’s not a huge confession of any sort.
He blinks, and in that instant, as he stares down at her with a hungry, possessive, and humbled look, while she turns and kisses Damien to soothe the restless monster, I realize it’s the first time she’s said it to him.
My eyes drift to her wrist, where the extremely oversized Flame mark is. Usually it’s just a dull red mark on the inner wrist. Damien’s stretches across her wrist like blood-red, poorly sharpened bracelet. That alone is surprising, since I’ve never seen one that size. What surprises me more than that is there’s another one that is just as large on her other wrist.
There’s only ever one mark. He’s claimed her so deeply that he’s left two impossibly large ones.
Emit pulls her to him, wasting no time shoving inside her like a common barbarian. Violet moans against Damien’s mouth like the barbarian is pleasing her.
She reaches back, her nails curling on Emit’s arm, as she cries out her orgasm, using the wolf’s name. His jaw clenches, and that predator emerges in him with his smirk, since Damien has already started fucking with his head by now.
You can’t be connected to sex in the room with Damien without him having easy access to your mind.
They should take better fucking care of her body. Damien grips her by the hair, and in the next instant, her mouth is descending on him like she’s eager to please.
I genuinely hate him more than he’s ever hated me. In this moment, if I could be Damien Morpheous, I would trade places.
“You’re jealous as hell right now,” the infernal stalker ghost says to me.
I shut the door on the sex that starts turning violent, since I want to stab them both and steal her away before they break her. That damn girl acts like she enjoys every second of it. Probably
because of the sexual deviant fogging up her mind.
“Since discovering she’s so resilient, they’ve gotten more and more aggressive with her. All of them. And since she’s—”
“The good part about her being twenty-six and born in an era when there’s a sex-positive outlook for women, is the fact you get a girlfriend willing to try anything once. And she’s competing with a woman you all have a lot of history with. She’s trying to impress them. This is as normal as the five of you will ever be. Stop fretting, Van Helsing” he tells me as he follows me down.
I’m not fucking fretting. I’m seething with envy.
Loosening my tie, I shove through the door and climb back into my car.
My new and unshakeable stalker hops in the seat next to me.
“So Arion went under after cars were in existence,” he tells me. “How is it he still hasn’t learned to drive, since he’s so upset about missing out on technology.”
“Planes, trains, and automobiles were all in existence, you twat. Arion, in case you haven’t noticed, loses interest in things too fast when they require actual effort to learn. Why is this something you feel the need to ask right this moment?” I demand.
He shrugs.
“So all his whining about missing out—”
“Is Arion being Arion and trying to make me feel guilty for how much progression he’s behind on. Meanwhile, he’s not even started learning to drive, yet alone fly a plane,” I dutifully point out.
However, he’s making more progress with Violet than I am. I’m driving back to Sanctuary to give more cooking lessons, doing something useful, while two of them are enjoying her like she’s their reward just for living.
“What about all those pictures? Has Idun really been under that long? I mean, some of those looked contemporary, given the dates you’re suggest—”
He stops talking when I cut my eyes to him, and he gives me a charming smile.
“Do you see how Idun dresses now?”
He nods. “Victorian when she’s feeling especially arrogant. She’s dressed more like a twenties’ proper lady when she’s feeling sassy—the ballsy sort of classy who put on a pair of pants. Egyptian influences were spotted in her wardrobe, but—”
“The point is, Idun has always dressed that way. She didn’t follow fashion—she created it,” I say on an irritable breath, but a sigh leaves me, as I pull up to Sanctuary.
In a quieter tone, I confess, “She was always way ahead of her time. The thing that drew me in most about her, after the truth had come out, was how fearlessly she dared to be different, in a world that demanded you blend in for survival. She dressed us the way she wanted us to look. We wanted to stand out just as much as she did. I can’t fault her tastes,” I note, considering she designed me one of my best suits long before suits were the fashion.
I look over at him, finding him studying me, as I run my mouth to a stupid fucking ghost.
“She was very imaginative when it came to living life a different way. Despite the many hardships and sacrifices, she loved life so much she wanted to live for all eternity. Her family were carpenters—our homes and carriages were amazing long before their times. Live long enough, and any fashion eventually has a time period when it’s fashionable. Gypsy fashion was all the rage a few years ago. Don’t get me started on that.”
My mind roams the centuries too freely, visiting places I’ve been too angry to visit for too long.
“Living this long, seeing how far ahead of her time Idun was, and realizing just how unique she was…it made her unbearably hard to deny. I’ve always been drawn to a strong woman who knew what she wanted. Anyway, Idun still dresses the exact same. From one era to the next. She’s always going to look better than any woman in any room, and she knows it.”
He nods like he agrees.
“Violet barely wears makeup, usually forgets to put on her shoes, and often ends up stitched inside whatever tapestry or sheet is closest by,” he notes.
My lips curve in a grin as I look away, rapping my fingers on the steering wheel.
“She’s also very imaginative when it comes to living life a different way, only she does it far differently from Idun. She cares about people, hoards random things, and has some disturbing tastes in collections. She’ll wear a sheet because she doesn’t care about being the prettiest girl in a room. She’s just trying to figure out what’s going on inside the room. She dares to be openly curious, in a world that mocks you for not already having all the answers.”
Feeling some of my jealousy finally deflate, I sit back, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“Despite her hardships and sacrifices, she’d rather save than destroy, because she values another’s life over her own.” My brow furrows, because that doesn’t sit altogether right with me. “However, she’s mentioned before she enjoyed killing. She mentioned it to Emit, I believe. Her opinion changed after meeting the omegas and hearing his input on the matter.”
That plays over in my head, as I run my finger across my lips.
“Do you guys sit around comparing notes on the things she’s told you or something?” the prying twat muses.
Absently, I answer him. “We did more than simply watch Idun’s every move for those five months. We’ve had deep and thoughtful conversations about Violet Carmine, and all her many unique qualities. As well as all her lunacy.”
He smirks.
“Emit’s had the most influence out of all of us, even though he’s had the least amount of time with her. He became her first mate,” I note aloud.
“Damien’s the closest to her because they’ve got the most honesty between them,” the ghost inserts, as though he’s helping me along with this thought process.
“Arion’s the drug she can’t get enough of—the one she’s most desperately drawn to.”
Speaking of the vampiric devil, Arion’s name flashes across the screen of my phone, along with some obnoxious music.
“Do you really have Monster Mash set for your ringtone? Because…that’s oddly quirky for you, Van Helsing. You’re not that fun,” the ghost says with a smartass smirk on his lips.
Ignoring the smug dead man in my car, I answer.
“What is it, Arion? I’m not in the mood for any walks down memory lane today.”
“Do you think Violet would have lied about the set of triplets who hopped her body and tried to take me for a joy ride?” he asks. “As in, she specifically said it wasn’t the creepy little girls who did that to me. Do you think she was being honest?”
I scrub a hand over my face.
“Why the bloody hell would you call me to ask such a thing?” I ask on a long, exhausted breath.
“Because three creepy little girls have been following me around for two days, and I overheard one of the wolf omegas mentioning something along the lines of them dying after they forced Violet into my arms. Where is Violet?”
I cut my eyes to my own ghost stalker.
“Why are you stalking us?” I ask him more seriously.
“Violet requested we keep an eye on you guys. Like I said, she’s worried about you,” he answers too innocently.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t really trust the living, let alone the dead, but I don’t particularly like this newest turn of events. Since when does our girlfriend order ghosts to do her bidding? Why is this okay?” Arion asks.
“Because apparently she’s just making the rules up as she goes along, and we’re supposed to bend over backwards to make it happen,” I grind out.
“Where is Violet?” the vampire demands.
“Damien is claiming her as his Flame, while her mate fucks her from any angle he can find,” I state, admittedly sounding entirely too bitter about that.
“I’m starting to feel like not even I have any clue what’s going on anymore,” Arion confesses.
“That’s because we assumed we had all the answers, so we stopped asking questions,” I state, still eyeing the male ghost, who turns his head to have a seemingly private s
mile. “However, Violet’s been up to no good, it seems. And a lot of it.”
I turn away from the ghost, pushing out my door, and slowly move around the building.
It’s dark, so there’s not much risk in moving quickly. Which is exactly what I do, without warning, to ditch the ghost.
I hear the wind through the phone, signaling Arion caught onto what I was up to and decided to follow suit.
“I need to hit something,” I tell the vampire as I glance over my shoulder, ensuring I’ve lost my tail.
“Just tell me where to meet you, Van Helsing. But fair’s fair. I plan on hitting you too.”
“Only if you’re good enough, Vampyre,” I state as I hang up and text him the address I’m heading toward.
Fucking dead ghosts asking random questions.
An unkillable girlfriend with a death wish.
Idun TV.
Floggings against our girlfriend.
New laws we absently passed.
A mated Wolf.
A Flamed Morpheous.
An angry Vampyre and Van Helsing.
A breeze of air is all I feel, before Arion is suddenly in front of me, his body as visibly tense as my own.
“I’m on a short leash,” he tells me like I’m not already aware. “She’s one step from having my balls completely in her purse, and they’ll be there next Tuesday at this rate.”
I have no idea why I almost smile.
He narrows his eyes when I struggle with the surprise reaction.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask very seriously.
Well, mostly seriously.
“I’m Arion Vampyre,” he tells me. “I’m perfectly okay with sacrificing some of my finest pleasures for the sake of Violet’s happiness. But I’ve accommodated her far more than I ever did Idun with all this nitpicky nonsense.”
“Are you seriously not understanding why you, an ancient, soulless vampire can’t get perfectly along with a modern-day martyr, who found being a gypsy the most fun and exciting thing that ever happened to her—are you fucking kidding me?—until the day her monster awoke and turned her birthday party into a massacre?” I ask, needing clarification on just how blind he is to the glaringly obvious.
Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6) Page 9