Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  “I have severe boundaries in place between you and I. You crossed them. Then you manipulated me into—”

  “Vance just walked in,” Anna says, talking over me. “And he’s heading this way.”

  Great. Just as I’ve accidentally summoned a multitude of new creepy spirits.

  “Everyone tried telling me not to talk to the dead. I should have listened,” I state, glaring over at Anna.

  She smiles. “You miss me when I’m gone.”

  “I’ve been doing so much sort of right that I forgot what a colossal fuck-up I am,” I state entirely to myself. “This is an excellent reminder.”

  In the next instant, I twirl my finger, and salt sprays from the pantry, covering the room. Ghosts are immediately ejected, and I whirl around to pretend I’m not an idiot, who has just made yet another problem a bigger problem.

  Vance walks in, nearly missing a step when he catches me already staring in his direction like I was waiting on him. I don’t know how to play things cool.

  He glances around, and frowns.

  “Why are their salt grains slinking under your pantry door?”

  “Not important. Did you need something?” I ask in deflection, shifting to obstruct his line of view somewhat.

  He cuts his gaze back to me, emotion lying in their depths once the distraction is gone.

  “I know you don’t understand how much my dignity means to me, but if you want me on my knees in apology for the five months—”

  “I don’t want you on your knees, Vance. I want to give you a hard time about it, because I don’t want it to happen again. But I’ve recently come to understand one very important thing. Those five months you spent watching Idun kept Idun from fucking with me. I’d have never gotten this place finished so quickly if the four of you had tried to help instead of giving her exactly what she wanted. Those laws would have never been passed. Nothing would have gone this smoothly if you’d been involved. I’m glad you were stupid. That’s right. I said it,” I confess on a long sigh.

  He blinks as if he’s surprised.

  “I feel both insulted and complimented,” he says, bristling as he straightens his tie.

  “That’s because it was an insulting compliment. You can’t complain about those, since they’re almost the only sort of compliment you dole out on the regular.”

  “We’re back to you treating me as I treat you, then?” he asks with a nearly-there smirk.

  I hate it when he looks playful. Vance in playful mode is damn near tempting, and my vagina is still on cool-down mode.

  “So all’s finally forgiven now that you’ve had time to weigh your thoughts?” he muses.

  “I may have reacted rashly with the dramatic breakup. Blame it on bad advice. Or good advice. To be honest, I’m not sure. You guys are definitely around more, regardless,” I tell him, earning a small grin from the Van Helsing. “I’m grateful to have had this part go smoothly. All’s forgiven.”

  He exhales a harsh breath, almost sagging in disbelief.

  “You really do zag just to cause a man to trip over his premeditated path, don’t you?” he asks, sounding slightly irritated, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I came in here ready to argue my case, and now I’m left with pointless adrenaline.”

  I’m not sure why it always seems to piss him off when I agree with him about something.

  “Use that pointless adrenaline to explain to me why you ever loved Idun if all the terrible stories about her are true,” I suggest, only mildly curious about his past life decisions.

  He gives me a bland look, but surprisingly comes to hop on the counter next to my pot, that has turned to black, pointless goo.

  “Do I want to know what you were doing here?” he asks, shooting me a curious look.

  “Not as much as I want an answer to my question,” I assure him.

  His lips twitch with the beginnings of a grin he manages to suppress, and a weighted expression comes to take the place of the almost playfulness.

  “War. War. Beyond the Double Dutch doors,” he says, saying the words—not singing them.

  “War got Idun her sacrifice. We were created in war. Men are more honorable as soldiers. Women are more fierce and patient. Our instincts are at their strongest, and we’re at our finest in war,” he tells me, laughing humorlessly under his breath.

  “That’s the way a twenty-eight-year-old gypsy, who has struggled for every ounce of dignity he desperately wanted to keep, when soldiers from some king’s army felt as though they could strip me of it. Take our women. Take our money. Take our pride. Take the damn clothes off our backs and be brutal,” he says, clearing his throat. “I took my vengeance out on various human soldiers who had it coming. It was all too easy, and I was unstoppable against them after a few years of honing my new skills.”

  “But that wasn’t enough,” I state in realization. “Humans were too easy. You wanted to create your own society and do it better.”

  He gives me a tired look. “It’s amazing to look back and see how naïve it all really was. How sincerely the power went to our heads. We created life we had no business creating, presenting ourselves as the cure for man’s illnesses when he’s too young to be turning into a spirit. Now we realize we’re the infection, and understand our roles in keeping the infection from spreading too fast or vast. Our dream of immortality soured by the balance we created by our own authority. The road to hell is paved with the best of intentions.”

  He scrubs a hand over his face, blowing out another breath.

  “We wanted to create our own society. We did. Our betas weren’t what we expected, and they rebelled. In the beginning, we certainly tried harder to please them all,” he tells me, eyes flicking to mine. “But one’s emotions rule them from time to time, and they incite riots, prejudices, and problems. Peace is a remarkably hard thing to obtain among humans. I’m not sure what possessed us to think we’d achieve such as monsters, who selfishly interrupted the universe’s plot because we thought we could write the story better.”

  “But war gives everyone something to unite about, so you warred,” I guess.

  “And it worked. For a while,” he says, his gaze growing distant. “It worked damn well. Idun crafted a design where I was the monster slayer, and the Van Helsings were after all the monsters. I was the bad guy to monsters and hero to humans. It was the perfect way to maintain order, secrecy, and provide proper fear in the hearts of the reckless.”

  “It was a better system than wandering aimlessly with a world full of new creations you hadn’t planned far enough ahead for,” I say, hoping I’m not crossing a line and pissing him off with such an accusation.

  He seems unbothered by it, as he nods very slowly.

  “Regardless of the moral reprehensibility of it, it worked,” he says again. “Until it didn’t work anymore.”

  “Why does my mother blame the four of you for Idun being so strong? How is she second-born and so strong?”

  “Many answers fit that question, Violet,” he says with zero emotion. “Idun couldn’t handle me being the one everyone feared, especially since fear is the truth about what she feeds on.”

  He says the words so casually, and his eyes meet mine.

  “Yes, lightning is a source of her energy and her power, but fear is a source of nourishment. The more she feeds—”

  “The stronger she becomes,” I cut in, finally understanding. “Even from the dead, monsters feared her name. That’s the real reason why the cults hunted Portocales. She hates the Portocales, so she sacrifices them to be sure her name carries on, even if she’s dismembered and buried. Her flock feared her enough to carry on in her absence, even if it meant living a life in the shadows and exiled from the monster realm.”

  “But they didn’t step out of line or need much of my intervention,” Vance tells me. “Because Idun really does scare her flock into complete submission. There’s nothing but true terror when you’re faced with Idun’s monster off its leash. It’ll humble any soul.
”

  He pauses and looks over at me.

  “Don’t let me say something I feel to be benign, only to find out you’re seething in a vat of feminist fury the entire time,” he says, eyeing me with so much wary caution that it’s almost funny. “And don’t be jealous of anything I used to feel for Idun, when I’m sharing things so freely.”

  Almost.

  “I’m just listening. I’m not looking to judge or take anything personal right now.”

  “You’re not going to let me run off seemingly meaningless details and burst into tears before making me feel like an awful person? Because I don’t have any idea how to be with a sensitive girl from today’s era, Violet,” he says on a weary breath.

  My own breath gets trapped in my lungs when he spins and suddenly cages me in against the counter.

  Our lips brush, but he holds back, simply content to fuck with my head, apparently.

  “Try and try as I might, I consistently fail your expectations. You hold me at too high of a standard, little monster. I was never the legendary slayer of all evil. I was just another major piece on a chessboard, as we attempted to rule the bloody world by controlling what people—monsters—knew.”

  A chill sneaks up my spine as he drags me closer, eyes staying fixed to mine.

  “But I’m every bit the monster they are. The monster so shallow he believed silver held more importance than anything else. The monster who can’t give his flock longer than a temporary induction. The monster who can’t lay claim to a woman by any other means than a title and a ring,” he says, pulling a very suspicious looking box up beside my head.

  There’s suddenly a knot in my throat to accompany the abrupt ring he’s revealing. Clearly it’s a diamond. It’s a very classy diamond.

  It’s nothing at all like I’d pick for myself, but it’s certainly something Vance would choose for me.

  My head is officially in ramble mode, because that’s decidedly an engagement ring he’s chosen for me.

  “I couldn’t decide on a ring for you, so I retrieved one from my family’s vault. This one has the most interesting story attached to it that you’ll appreciate, and it’s the most attractive, so I can appreciate it. See? I can compromise.”

  That ring was less intimidating before he gave it a bigger meaning.

  “Can you compromise a little more, Violet Carmine? Can you trust us more? Perhaps allow a little more slack? We are trying to protect the world, and all. Damien Morpheous just took a beta. You’re helping me out tremendously,” he carries on.

  “I hate it when you make me feel stupid for getting mad about something a normal person would get upset about,” I point out.

  “Normal is a relative term,” he murmurs with a small smile, being far too charming as his lips brush mine again. “What is normal among a realm of ancient immortals dating a pureblood first of her kind?”

  Rolling my eyes, I lift my hands to land on his chest, as he continues to hold the ring.

  “What were you saying about Idun before you deflected with the flashy Van Helsing family heirloom?” I ask, admittedly warming up to the very intricate diamond ring.

  He puts it on the counter next to me, giving me a chance to study it better, since I can’t look away. In the center of the diamond, barely visible, there looks to be a floating stamp with VH.

  “How that stamp got there is where the fascinating story about betrayal, lust, and forbidden romance come in. Are you sure you’d rather hear about Idun right now?”

  “Idun feeds on fear, and all of you decided to make everyone fear her. Which means she’s the supreme leader and can spank anyone’s ass. Is that what you’re saying?” I ask, admittedly a little absently, since the beautiful ring is almost calling to me.

  “Essentially, yes. All the Neopry skin-walkers feed on fear. For a while, Idun could dream walk and induce night terrors. It’s possible she’s still able to do that, along with a whole host of other tricks she’s yet to pull out. This is still the beginning, Violet. It could take centuries before she truly strikes. These are all just small jabs, for now. It is more serious than you take it.”

  “But without the fear, she’s just a normal alpha?” I pry, curious how one stops an entire world from fearing a powerful, vicious, brutal, relentless monster.

  “She took the potentially strongest spirit into herself, and she was the architect of everyone’s misery for so long that fear on such a dominant level empowered her.”

  He bends swiftly, crowding my space all the more, as he lifts me at the waist and drops me on the counter. Pushing my legs apart, he steps in between them, smelling as fresh and tempting as always.

  Not a hair is out of place as he puts both hands on either side of my hips, lips brushing mine in that teasing way once again.

  “If you think I’m ready for sex so soon after Damien claimed me, you’re insane. My vagina needs a rest,” I decide to inform him.

  He struggles to keep a straight face, even as he slides the ringer closer to me.

  “I’ll leave it with you. When I see you wearing it, I’ll know your answer. I’ll be a patient man, Violet.”

  I blink several times, because this is not what I expected when I came down here. I expected to kill a ghost and go back to my interrupted sleep.

  Not a proposal.

  “Why in the world do you want to marry me?” I ask, unable to help myself, because sometimes I can’t make things make sense, if they make no sense at all to me.

  “Because your vagina can handle a derailed train, apparently. I’m not sure that’s bragging rights, bestie. I’m starting to think you’re a bit of a basic slut,” Anna chimes in from somewhere in the room, slicing through at least a little of the tension.

  Vance casts some side-eye in her general direction, before giving me his attention again.

  “You upset easily, and I have quite the lengthy past I’m sure you’re not going to approve of,” he tells me, as though that’s some sort of answer to my question.

  His hand smooths up my side, and just the heat of his touch has a pulse racing in my achingly used nether regions.

  “You’re going to have to make peace with the monsters we’ve been, the monsters we are, and the monsters we’re likely going to be. It changes from one century to the next, based on what we’ve learned from our mistakes. Damien got tired of the challenge too many centuries ago to bother keeping up with the elapsed time.”

  “I feel like you’re telling me something important, but…I’m a little bit on information overload lately, so…”

  I let the words trail off. I’m gonna need more than the gist. I need a spoon in my mouth with the simplified version of whatever he wants to say.

  “If you want a direct answer when you ask a complicated question, I’ve got to be able to trust you’re not going to fall apart in my arms when you hear the truth. I don’t want to outright lie to you. Hence the reason it ends up going in circles before a collision finally happens. Stop expecting that much trust so suddenly. Trust is earned. Over time,” he says, brushing the hair away from my cheek, as his gaze roams over my face.

  “Says the guy proposing to the girl he apparently doesn’t trust,” I point out.

  His lips turn up at one edge in a smile, and his eyes almost seem to be laughing at me. “When you live as long as we have, you accumulate severe trust issues, Violet. It’s going to take quite some time for me to push past all those barriers.”

  He tips my chin up, eyes on mine.

  “I ask questions to give you a chance to explain yourself. You can’t expect me to be okay with everything you’ve done, but I’m open to hearing what it was really like when you made such decisions. I’m sheltered,” I remind him. “It’s easy for me to judge. It takes effort not to, but I put forth that effort the best I can, and run sanctuary to do away with all the things I can’t deal with, while giving you a viable alternative for this crazy law or that one. I am compromising.”

  He laughs under his breath, his hands cupping my chee
ks, as he presses in closer.

  “I do trust you, Violet,” he says in a tone that makes my vagina forget there’s any lingering aches.

  “I trust you to look after Damien,” he says…randomly. “This sanctuary taught you something important.”

  For whatever reason, I know what he’s hinting at.

  “Damien isn’t running much of anything, and he seriously needs to start taking care of all his rogue betas who are doing all that work with no alpha looking after them,” I say in agreement and a nod.

  “You recruited him a top name in the rogue world. He’s actually a good representative for Damien. But you made Damien take a beta, something I gave up hope on centuries ago.”

  I’m not sure where he’s going with this.

  “Talbot Lane wanted an alpha. It’s not hard to see when you pay attention. Damien needs a beta. It’s only natural,” I explain. “And Talbot, so far, hasn’t done anything so seedy that the omegas fear him. He has a bigger reputation among them than among you guys.”

  He tugs at his tie, his first indication of a tic.

  “Arion is fighting me when he’s angry, instead of taking out his aggression on unhandled matters in Emit’s territory. He’s a weird fucking vampire these days, but far less trouble for me,” he says.

  “You’ve done this before. Given me too much credit for things that I’m not to credit for,” I tell him, leaning back when it feels like his intense gaze is going to stare straight through me.

  “Emit brought in five of his finest betas this morning and is implementing new laws to his packs,” he continues. “My days are getting less daunting with each new improvement.”

  “That genuinely had nothing to do with me. I don’t have any right to comment on how Houses are run. If it wasn’t for Shera, the Simpletons, and the omegas, this Sanctuary would be a big mess—metaphorically and physically. I’ve worked hard, but they’ve done more work and made it look a hell of a lot easier. Enough so that I hate them right now.”

  “I hate them too. They don’t seem like the type to loan out their vaginas to the ghostly,” Anna chimes in.