Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  DAMIEN

  “Damien, if you don’t get rid of this illusion right now, I’m going to knee you in the balls. I don’t want to, but I will do it without an ounce of regret,” Violet says, turning a very violent shade of red, while glaring at me in a way that suggests she’s wholeheartedly telling the truth.

  “I hate the mascot uniform. You’re my Flame, and it’s the first official time I’m getting to show you off. I’m sorry. People mostly remember me today, and I want them envying me. You should feel flattered,” I assure her, giving her a charming grin, as I run my finger under the strap of the adorable slip dress. “I kept it decent.”

  “Decent?!” she hisses, eyes wild and angry.

  She wildly gestures to the dress.

  “Damien, it’s very nearly showing my ass, and I can’t even feel my underwear. Is it necessary to also give me the illusion of being naked underneath this thin, barely decent dress in front of your parents! In front of all your parents! I can feel an actual draft in an area no one wants to be drafty, while in the company of four sets of boyfriends’ parents!”

  I scratch my head. “Why on earth do our parents play any part in this? My father still runs brothels. You’re almost considered frumpy my family’s eyes. Also, why the hell does it matter? It’s not as though I’ll be introducing you. I simply want to show you off,” I tell her, pressing her closer to the wall.

  She keeps that infuriated glare trained on me, even as she lets me press closer.

  “Today is Arion’s day,” Emit reminds me on his way by.

  “Arion’s yet to win a round of anything. He can have her back when he earns it,” I say absently, dipping my head until my lips press to Violet’s.

  She keeps them pressed in a thin line, refusing to kiss me back, as my hand slides down to her ass. When I teasingly run my tongue across the seam of her lips, she trembles against me, opening up.

  I groan into her mouth when she melts against me almost too easily. She really does love me. Even more now that she’s been claimed. It’s too obvious not to notice.

  My grin forms at the thought, and her greedy little hands run up my chest, moving under my shirt. She certainly loves to touch.

  “Twenty minutes, Violet. Let me steal you away for twenty minutes. I’ll make it feel like two hours,” I promise her against her lips, lifting her leg until it’s wound around my waist.

  She smiles against my lips, her arms tightening around my neck, as her daring little mouth gets greedier.

  I take that as a yes, and I lift her to start carrying her to my tent, when there’s suddenly a hand on my shoulder. I’m ripped backwards so violently that I lose my hold on Violet. By the swift motions and the graze of cold skin, I know what’s happening before my eyes even find the vampire.

  When I spot him, he’s holding Violet around the waist with her back pressed to his front. She looks a little flustered, and her hair is definitely messed up.

  “Put her back in her costume, and stow your mojo, Morpheous. Today is my day,” the vampire says, narrowing his eyes at me.

  After giving him a cheeky grin, I waggle my eyebrows at Violet, who points a very angry finger at me.

  “That’s cheating. You can’t use that on me when I’m mad at you. You especially can’t do it just to get your way. We need boundaries,” she says so seriously that it’s adorable.

  Arion starts kissing down the side of her neck, and I grin. “Still want that hideous, shapeless garb back on that body?” I ask, confident he’s had a change of heart.

  “If you don’t give me back my costume, I will think about anything un-sexy the next time we have sex, just so that I don’t enjoy it,” she threatens.

  “As if you’d have any control over that, Violet,” I dutifully inform her, loving the fiery anger that fills her gaze. “One touch, and you’re under my spell that damn easily.”

  Her body betrays her with a visible tremble, and she clears her throat a few times, as her chest and cheeks heat.

  “Or one thought,” I carry on, forcing a few of my favorite memories into her mind.

  She reaches back and clenches Arion’s thigh, a little moan escaping her.

  “Twenty minutes with the vampire and me,” I state in compromise, smirking at the vampire, who’s own lips curve up at one corner.

  He’s easy enough to sway.

  “I have thirty minutes before I have to be on the field,” Arion says, as he lifts Violet from the ground.

  “Perfect. That means we have twenty-nine minutes instead of twenty,” I decide, as Arion steals Violet’s lips in a kiss so intense that the heady taste of lust almost pulls me in.

  Her legs are around his waist, and her arms around his neck, as I step in behind her and start kissing a trail down her neck.

  “Say yes, Violet,” Arion murmurs against her lips, his claws extending and pressing into her leg.

  “We only have twenty-eight minutes now,” she says in response, which has me grinning against her neck.

  The vampire blurs away in the next instant, and I crack my neck before I give chase. This day doesn’t suck nearly as badly as I thought it would.

  Chapter 31

  VIOLET

  My breath catches in my throat, and my heartbeat drums in my ears, as Damien shows me the whole scene in my mind.

  Arion is under me, sliding inside. Damien’s behind me, already inside. If there’s any pain, I wouldn’t know it. With a master of pleasure controlling every sensation on my body, as he manipulates each touch, I’m just along for the ride.

  Arion doesn’t even ask permission before he bites into my neck as though he has the right. My fingers slide into his hair and pull him closer, as he hungrily and greedily drinks me in.

  I work damn hard on being quiet, since both my parents are around here somewhere, and I really don’t want to be seen in this position. By either of them.

  Another image of them both pushing inside me presses through my mind, and Arion’s mouth finds mine, almost desperately. Sensations skate through my body, each one more powerful than the last, proof of Damien working his magic.

  Breaking the kiss with Arion, I turn my head, and Damien immediately captures my mouth in a kiss, as he shoves a hand in my hair to keep me there.

  The two of them together are greedy, primal, and extremely consuming. My head is trapped in a fog that won’t lift, and I love every single second of the show Damien is giving me, even though I can’t see anything going on with my own eyes.

  A garbled noise escapes my lips and flows into Damien’s mouth, who makes a sound of appreciation, when Arion’s mouth fastens to my neck once again.

  It’s so much all at once that when my orgasm crashes through me, it wrings me out, and I end up crying out, unable to help myself.

  Arion’s hips move faster, and he sucks at my neck harder, as Damien leisurely kisses up the other side of my throat, his body going still.

  The loss of his touch is almost miserable, but he pulls out, leaving me in the hands of the vampire. The images in my head are cut off, and as Arion flips me to be under him, effectively caging me in.

  Damien drops to a chair next to us, dropping a shirt to his lap, as the tent chills several degrees. Arion’s eyes are wild when he raises up from my throat, while he drives in and out of me.

  Damien smirks, even though I only see it from my peripheral, because my main focus stays trained on the dark and devilish vampire. Arion’s brow is drawn down in concentration, and his fangs are biting into his lower lip.

  Caught up in intensity, hunger, and danger in his eyes, pleasure crashes through me again. My back arches, and my cries are swallowed, because Damien’s mouth is suddenly on mine, as he drinks in every noise I release.

  Arion releases a sexy, guttural sound, his hips stilling against me, as his head drops to the side of my neck. When Damien breaks the kiss, backing away with playful deviance in his eyes, while Arion groans.

  “Damn you, Morpheous,” Arion says between pants of air.

&nb
sp; “Sorry to rush you, Vampyre,” Damien says insincerely, as though they have an inside joke about whatever image Damien apparently forced on Arion. “However, it’s been twenty-eight minutes. You were taking too long, and you’re the one who said you couldn’t miss the event.”

  Arion groans again, and for whatever stupid reason, I find myself smiling when he nuzzles my throat.

  I feel lightheaded from all the blood he took, but it’s fading quickly and barely causing any discomfort. In fact, I’m entirely too comfortable.

  “Can I ask where Vance went?” I ask, hearing Arion mutter a curse as he lifts off me, gingerly ghosting his lips against mine.

  “I knew it’d be easier to wrangle an errant herd of ten thousand elephants than to keep a dozen Van Helsings here. Their sense of duty always wins out. Half of them have abandoned the event because of something important coming up. It’s the bloody curse,” Arion gripes. “Absolutely none of them would be so noble without it.”

  He kisses me, as though he’s shutting me up, even though he was the one talking. I smile against his lips, mostly because he’s so reluctant to go.

  “Be out there as soon as you’re dressed. I want you to see me destroy what’s left of the Van Helsings on the field,” he tells me with far too much excitement, causing my smile to immediately fall, replaced by a worried line.

  “I thought tag was supposed to be a little gentler. And hide and seek is pretty scary too,” I confess, swallowing thickly. “Especially since five people have been stabbed.”

  I didn’t realize how extreme monster sports could be, and I feel a little too naïve once again. It never feels good.

  “Watch me knock Zuela to the ground and make him cry uncle,” Arion goes on, eyes truly glistening with pure anticpated joy.

  He’s a blur of motion for less than three seconds. I blink on the fourth second. In the fifth second, his lips are on mine, almost branding me with a taste of lingering intensity for the next second.

  In the seventh second, a breeze is the only thing still ghosting my lips.

  “Fucking fast, vampire,” Damien says, his eyes comfortably roaming over me, as he leisurely pulls on his blue slacks.

  My gaze rakes up the firm, lean muscles. His body is as uniquely beautiful as his unforgettable face.

  “I don’t understand how people can forget you,” I tell him as he begins pulling on his white button-up shirt.

  For whatever reason, the Morpheous men all wore their best suits. The women look ready for the runway. Some are wearing elegant dresses. Some are dressed in those classy jumpsuits.

  “Is that so?” Damien muses, smirking over at me as he slowly buttons his shirt.

  Pursing my lips, I study the lingering playful mischief still in his eyes.

  “Why are you being weird?”

  He blinks a few times, and his smirk turns into a genuine grin, as he laughs under his breath.

  “I’m just pleased with how nearly effortless it was to make you both forget where we are and what we’re supposed to be doing. I rarely get my way so easily,” he confesses, giving me a smug look that has me rolling my eyes.

  “You’re ruining the moment,” I grumble, finding my mascot uniform on the floor.

  At least it’s not the slip of a dress anymore. His illusions are definitely more powerful lately.

  “Do you know why you can’t understand what it’s like to forget me?” he asks as I go behind the changing curtain to clean up.

  I definitely won’t be able to hide the fact I’ve had sex with a vampire and a Morpheous. Maybe I shouldn’t shake my ass anymore today. It may send all the wrong signals. I doubt it’ll appear innocent if I do it while reeking of sex.

  Running a hand through my hair, I exhale and try not to overthink it. I’m wearing a mask and still hate all the attention on me. I don’t know how they handle all the eyes on them all the time.

  “Because I’ve never forgotten you,” I say in response to him, remembering he asked me a question that is more important than my pointless insecurities.

  The curtain pulls back, startling me, and Damien props at a lean against the doorframe.

  His shirt is mostly unbuttoned, resembling the way he looked that first day I saw him.

  “Because I’ve never allowed you to forget me. I took careful and strategic measures to ensure as much. For the most part.”

  He’s staring a little too hard, and he’s definitely demonstrating an unusual amount of concentration.

  “Seriously, what’s with you today?”

  “Today is one of those rare days that hasn’t sucked nearly at all. I would even dare to say it’s been fun,” he tells me, his gaze finding mine and holding.

  The warm, gentle touch of his hand barely startles me, as he cups my cheek and steps into me. My head tilts back so that I can keep the eye contact, and his grin grows.

  “One might even accuse me, Damien Morpheous, of being happy,” he carries on, backing me up and caging me in against the wall. “It’s a foreign feeling, so distant a memory that I’ve forgotten. But I’m ninety-nine percent positive this is indeed happiness.”

  I feel like an idiot when my grin nearly splits my face and actually hurts.

  “You’re happy?” I ask, my voice cracking into a surprised squeak and only embarrassing me more.

  “Almost positive,” he murmurs, his lips descending on mine, as he drags me closer and kisses me with what feels like appreciation.

  “Absolutely certain of it now,” he says against my lips, only causing my grin to grow once again, until it’s impossible to keep kissing.

  Fuck’s sake. I giggle.

  I. Giggle.

  I feel his smile against my lips, while he keeps our non-kissing lips against each other.

  Eventually, he pulls back just enough for his eyes to meet mine. A seriousness is there, as he gently strokes down the side of my cheek.

  “What will you say to Arion at the end of the night? If you’re planning to reject him, I’m afraid you’ve sent some severely mixed signals today,” he says in a quiet tone that’s barely above a whisper.

  Before I can answer, Emit ducks inside, eyes narrowing when he spots us. He sniffs the air, rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms over his chest.

  “You’re about to deliver bad news after getting bent about us fucking Violet without you,” Damien guesses. “Skip the griping and just tell me the bad news.”

  “Violet, can you give us a minute?” Emit asks.

  “She’s your mate, and she’s my Flame. This is about Vance, isn’t it?” Damien asks, sending my stomach into a tight knot. “What’s wrong?”

  Emit’s lips tighten, and his gaze flicks to mine.

  “Don’t panic,” he tells me, which of course makes me start panicking.

  A little.

  Not enough to go monster and accidentally kill everyone, but I’m definitely still panicking.

  “I’m good,” I assure him when he keeps watching like he’s waiting on me to steel my nerves.

  His gaze stays on me, even though I can tell he’s mostly speaking to Damien.

  “Vance hasn’t returned, and he hasn’t checked in. The chopper never saw him leave the cemetery, but after the fifth missed check-in time, they finally went in. The cemetery was empty, and not even the best trackers among the Van Helsings have been able to catch even a hint of a trail.”

  “Damn fucking loops. Everyone really does know about them,” Damien says too calmly, as I work harder and harder to not panic.

  They make it seem like it’s no big deal when one of them goes missing. Maybe Emit was right. I should have left the tent.

  “No loops,” Emit says, causing Damien’s brow to furrow. “No trail at all, Damien.”

  “How is that even possible?” Damien asks, straightening away from me and taking this more seriously.

  “I don’t know. But for now, there’s absolutely no way to track him. I think we need to prepare ourselves.”

  Damien’s eyes shut, and my hear
tbeat begins drumming loudly in my ears, as my vision dims and returns several consecutive times.

  “If Pandora has taken him, that can only mean she’s taken Idun’s side, and the war has begun,” Emit continues, as my hands begin to shake.

  “He’s not dead, Violet,” Damien says, his hand coming to my cheek.

  My breaths are sharp and short, as he talks gently to me, clearly treating me like a cornered animal.

  Probably smart.

  “W-w-where was he last?” I ask, my breaths and voice shaky.

  “The dragon’s cemetery,” they both answer.

  “Of course,” I say as though that makes perfect sense. “And the dragon’s cemetery is a euphemism for what?”

  They both stare at me, looking mildly uncomfortable, as though they don’t want to tell me there is no euphemism and an oops-have-we-never-told-you-about-dragons-before expression.

  Awesome.

  “So there are dead dragons—”

  “Dragon,” Emit is quick to amend, smiling tightly. “There was only ever one.”

  “Well, that changes everything,” the triplets say as they pop in to roll their eyes. “Do you think a dragon really breathes fire?” they muse.

  Ignoring them, I keep my attention on Emit and Damien, who continue to stare at me like they’re waiting on that to sink in.

  “So there’s a dead dragon…and Vance went to its graveyard to meet Pandora. Sounds brilliant. Why would Vance do something that bold? What does an alleged dragon carcass have to do with anything? Didn’t you all say that Pandora could be dangerous? I thought Pandora loved Bobo and got mad at Idun,” I ramble in spitfire fashion, not sounding calm at all, even though I’m trying really, really hard to do just that.

  “It’s nothing more than some impressive bones. No carcass,” Damien says like he’s somehow being reassuring.

  “Breathe, Violet,” Emit says, gently pulling me to him with my back to his front.

  His breath heats my ear when he leans down, and he puts his hand over my chest.

  “Breathe and stay calm. Remember that he can’t stay dead,” he says, also trying to sound reassuring.

  My eyes burn, and my breaths get shorter. I force myself not to cry or freak out, because they have enough to deal with right now. Me freaking out will definitely make this worse and distract them from finding Vance.