Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  “He’s not dead?” I ask, needing confirmation on that.

  “He’s not dead. Zuela would inform us if something else was true,” Emit says, pressing in on my chest, and then releasing it. “Breathe.”

  Taking several steadier, deep breaths, I suck back the tears the best I can, nodding for no reason.

  “Okay,” I say on a shaky breath, gently pushing away and pulling my mascot uniform back on.

  “Can you act unbothered, Violet? If Idun sees or senses your weakness, she’ll likely end his life. If she thinks you’re unaware—”

  “She’ll cat-and-mouse it until it’s not fun anymore. Got it. She’s simply waiting on someone to confront her and ask where he is.”

  I nod again, my hands not steadying.

  I see them, but it’s almost a blur. Everything is a blur.

  It feels as though I’ve been yanked back to stare on at the scene. From sublimely happy to anticipating devastation in less than a few short seconds.

  “This is war, Violet. Now it begins. It’s one big game to her, and she spares very little mercy. It’s been more severe than you’ve been able to understand, and it’s too late to turn back now, sweet monster. You’re going to need to get much tougher for a little while, and for that, I apologize in advance,” Emit says, cupping my cheeks with both his hands and forcing me to look at him. “Please don’t let her crush you with the very first blow.”

  I expected claws and bite.

  I expected head games and verbal sniping.

  I expected her to be more vicious toward me.

  I don’t know what I expected. It’s like stumbling onto a battlefield for the first time and not realizing someone’s already pulled the trigger while you’ve been waiting for the first shot.

  It’s exactly how they likely felt after standing around watching Idun TV.

  “Everyone knew losing Arion would be the hardest for her, even though she treated him the worst,” I mutter to myself. “And Vance still went to meet with Pandora—today of all days.”

  “Now that he’s been captured, it’s easy to look back and see it as a trap,” Damien says, exhaling harshly. “It was a risk that had to be taken. I’ll be back. I need to find Zuela.”

  As soon as Damien exits, a sob tries to escape me. I manage to muffle it against my sleeve, feeling the tickle of fur against my lips.

  Emit drags me to him, his arms curling around me, surrounding me as he holds me just as tight as I need him to. My cheek presses to his chest, and I inhale his woodsy scent. It actually is mildly calming, so I do it again.

  And again.

  And again.

  I’m not sure how long we stand that way, but I don’t allow myself too long to be weak.

  “The games are over now, aren’t they?” I ask. “Now she’ll drop the mask and the façade. She’ll reveal her true self.”

  “It depends,” he answers before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

  “On what?”

  “On whether we find Vance and he lives. Or if Arion goes through with making you his bride.”

  My brow furrows and I lift my head. “What?”

  “She’s not posturing. She’s sending a message without saying a single word. She’ll kill Vance, and start breaking you in today if he takes you as his bride. Or she’ll let you live on in relative peace, by her standards, and play nicely for a while longer if he concedes. This is her limit, Violet. Arion is hers. He’s simply on loan to you as a reward for all his ungratified loyalty she knows she abused.”

  “At least she’s not unreasonable,” I grind out, the words dripping in sarcasm.

  “She’s at the top of the food chain. I wish it was different, Violet, but if defeating her were easy, we’d have done it long before now,” he assures me. “Our plan is to slowly dilute her infamy with strategic maneuvers over a series of decades that could span up to three or four centuries. At best it’ll be two. It’s that complicated.”

  Swallowing thickly, I let it all sink in.

  She’s not some playground bully. She’s not some co-worker bitch.

  She’s essentially a queen with a lot of power. More importantly, she’s a very influential figure in the monster world.

  “How bad does Arion want me to be his bride?” I ask quietly.

  “Bad enough to not give two shits if Vance dies. I’m sure he’d sacrifice most anything. You’ve allowed him to freely touch you any way he wanted to in front of anyone and everyone. By now he’s convinced it’s just within his grasp, and he won’t dare allow her to take it from him.”

  My jaw trembles, and I once again swallow around the painfully tight lump in my throat.

  “I was going to tell him yes when he asked, while wearing the ring Vance gave me, so that I could answer them both at the same time. I didn’t want there to be a last place,” I say on a rasp whisper. “Suddenly, a life is on the line, and my vampire boyfriend is a little too soulless to care about tedious details such as that.”

  “Vance has died a lot. It’s nothing all that problematic to him. We’ve done it so often that the memories return to us sooner and sooner, making each experience—no matter the circumstances—something I daresay can be an enjoyable break from the weighted, constant responsibility. Hence the reason Vance has died a lot.”

  It’s too casual and dismissive, and I’m once again reminded of the age and experience gap between us that has already caused so many issues. Death is as casual as global manipulation and a monster pecking order.

  Survival of the fittest.

  Lifting my head to wipe the few stray tears from my eyes, I freeze and feel my heart skip three and a half beats.

  Emit turns, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

  Arion is standing just inside the tent with his hands in his pockets, a cold smile on his lips, and a dead look in his red eyes with pinprick pupils.

  “Fancy that. You and Morpheous go and lay claim, and Idun lets it slide. Violet accepts it with very little hesitation. I actually try to woo the girl by doing something she’ll find more special and endearing after a century of tradition, because I’m very much looking forward to finally building the future I’ve always wanted.”

  He takes a step toward us, and I move toward him.

  He carries on as though this is a casual conversation, as he takes a seat and kicks his feet up on the small, tent-covered bedroom.

  “In an unsurprising turn of events, Violet immediately plans to reject me and fold to Idun for the very first time. Where’s that backbone now, love? Am I the only one unworthy of it?” he asks, genuinely hurt, as his claws extend and his fangs peek out from under his lip.

  Emit grabs me at the elbow when I move toward Arion, and the vampire hisses as he lunges, his monster far too close to the surface.

  “Damn, Arion, don’t make me fight you right now. Not today. Enough shit is going on today,” Emit says, as though I’m weak and on the verge of snapping.

  My back slams into the wall, and a very odd spike of ill-timed arousal hits me like an embarrassing brick.

  It fades instantly, because this entire situation is entirely too fucked up, and my head is almost scrambled.

  “I mean it, Vampyre. Don’t push me,” Emit warns in a near growl, as Arion cages me in.

  Reaching up, I slide my arms around Arion’s neck, and I lean up, earning a hiss when I brush my lips over his.

  “Violet, for fuck’s sake, show some caution. He’s not just Arion right now, and he’s insane even on a good fucking day. You know this by now,” Emit snaps.

  As Arion’s claws start digging into my hips almost painfully, his control slipping, I press closer.

  “I promise to be your bride after Idun is no longer a threat to your lives. I also promise to be the bride I planned on trying to be for you starting now,” I tell him, dragging my lips over his.

  His bruising grip loosens just enough to prove I have his attention.

  A growl bubbles in his lips, and the pinpricks slowly disappear from sight,
as he cuts his eyes toward Emit.

  Emit takes a slow step back, and I lean up to bite Arion’s neck as hard as I can. A breath is jarred out of me, because he shoves me harder against the wall in punishment.

  But at least I have his attention.

  “Emit, you’re not going to argue. You’re going to leave, because you’re a wolf and he’s all vampire right now. I’m going to try to talk him back before he accidentally claims me, because I’m starting to get the hang of this. I think,” I say, barely darting a look toward Emit.

  When Arion starts to turn his head that way again, I grab his face and pull him back, thankful Emit started using my apple shampoo. At least the scent of wolf is absent, making this less violent for the moment.

  Arion snarls at me, and then he wrenches my hands above my head.

  Emit starts toward me, and I shake my head, not moving my eyes from Arion until he leans down to deeply inhale my neck.

  “If he claims me, Vance dies. I need this to go differently than you and Damien, and you can’t be here. What’s the worst he can do? Fuck me? Drink me? Kill me?” I ask, even as Arion growls like he’s warning me to be quiet.

  Emit’s eyes fix to mine, and I see the clear reluctance in his eyes.

  “I can take anything he’s got,” I assure him. “But I have to at least try to save Vance.”

  My voice cracks, and Emit shuts his eyes. After another minute of hesitation, he turns and goes, never opening his eyes or looking at me again.

  Clearing my throat, I immediately start talking to Arion again.

  “Arion, I’m yours. You have my promise, and you can even do your invasive mind thingy to enforce it if you want,” I promise him.

  The room starts steadily chilling, and he begins moving me, dancing with me in his arms to music I can barely hear. Cheers erupt as though something has happened of importance out there.

  My feet sway inches from the ground, as he carries me, handling all the movement to the daring tempo. There’s almost a hypnotic effect, because I forget for a moment why I’m even trying to talk him out of this.

  Vance.

  What about Vance?

  Who’s…Vance?

  His nose stays pressed to my neck, and on occasion, between dizzying twirls and elegant steps, he teases the flesh with his lips.

  It feels like we dance for hours, even though I’m certain that can’t be right.

  Just as I feel the barely-there graze of fangs, something akin to a cold bath drops on me.

  “No!” three girls shout in unison.

  “Sorry, girls. The Van Helsing will die and Violet will never trust us again if we let it happen,” someone is saying.

  All the voices sound so distant, as if they’re in a tunnel somewhere far behind us. Me and my vampire.

  Red eyes lift to meet mine, and a devilish grin spreads across his face. He’s beautiful.

  The dance floor is vast and elegant, dressed in golds and silks, and every masked person in the audience watches us with pure envy radiating from their eyes—

  That cold bath drops over me again, but this time it’s so jarring that the dancefloor cracks under me. Red eyes glow, and Arion hisses, as the split in the ground begins running up all four walls, slicing everything in half. Suddenly, it all explodes, and I stumble forward, falling with Arion.

  We’re slammed to the ground, forcing a grunt out of me, but I get the more comfortable landing, since I land on top of him.

  The only thing not blurry in my vision is him, and my brow furrows when I see his eyes shut and his body lifeless.

  “Don’t panic. He’s not dead. Just unconscious. Probably won’t last long, so either be his bride and get Vance killed as a byproduct, or let us help you find Vance,” someone is saying.

  Anna.

  It’s Anna.

  Blinking, my vision returns to me, reminding me I’m not on some dance floor surrounded by people in masks. I’m in the tent Arion presumably had constructed for our bridal celebration.

  My gaze darts from spot to spot, my mind slowly returning to reality. Anna gives me a five-finger-wiggle wave, grinning. The triplets glare at me like they want me dead.

  “The vampire deserves this more than any of them,” they all tell me.

  “That’s because you’re twisted and find everything about him perfect,” I tell them, even as I gently stroke Arion’s perfect cheek, hoping he’s going to wake up and not go crazy.

  “I’ll be your bride,” I tell him again, whispering the words in his ear. “Just not until I can find a way to keep you all safe.”

  “You’re weak,” the triplets inform me.

  “You’re insane,” I volley, as I stand and walk through the gate doors.

  “I’m Diva, bitch!” Diva says, scaring the fuck out of me the moment I exit and she pops up.

  She laughs and vanishes from sight, while I turn and glare at Anna. She grins.

  “Sucks to be you sometimes,” she tells me.

  “How can I find Vance?” I ask her.

  “You don’t. I do,” Anna says, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I still don’t trust you, Anna. Honestly, with every passing day, I think I trust you less and less. I feel like it’s all been a lie,” I tell her very honestly, feeling the tremble in my hand.

  The triplets roll their eyes.

  Anna shrugs an unconcerned shoulder.

  “That’s completely reasonable. However, if you don’t take a leap of faith and trust me today, your Van Helsing can die. But it means I have to tell you something else I’ve been keeping a secret,” she says on a day when I can’t really afford to take another hit. “And it’s a really big one you’ll appreciate in this moment, but you’ll possibly feel betrayed when you have time to think about it later on.”

  Awesome.

  I’m sick of those secrets from her. They’re only getting worse and worse.

  A memory of Vance smirking down on me, while he kissed me stupid in the basement of his house pops into my mind.

  Those were the best two days we’ve had in this never-ending madness that seems to span across all eternity.

  My gaze flicks to Anna, and her dark grin curves her lips.

  “This is the first step to building a wonderful partnership, Violet,” she says before I’ve even given her my answer. “If you learn to trust me completely, we may even be able to find a way to take down Idun without waiting a few centuries or so.”

  “One thing at a time, Anna. Reel it back a notch or two. Can you really find Vance?” I ask her.

  “Yes. Yes, I can. I just need to borrow that gypsy blood of yours for a few seconds. Tops,” she says, looking much too excited about this.

  Shutting my eyes, I exhale, and simply let it happen. When I blink my eyes open, I’m standing on the far side of the field, and I’m no longer wearing my mascot suit.

  Nope.

  Now I’m in what is possibly the most scandalous cheerleader uniform ever, and there’s a megaphone at my feet.

  Also, the entire Neopry section is staring at me with fascination.

  Also, Idun is staring daggers at me, her lips doing a somewhat alarming wiggle thing, as though she’s so pissed off that she can’t possibly keep a respectable line but desperately wants to.

  Also, Damien, Emit, and Arion—whose eyes have returned to normal color—are all very clearly infuriated with me right now.

  What has she fucking done?

  “You see, this is why I don’t trust you,” I tell her very dryly, trying not to react too suddenly, since I have no idea what I’ve just said or done.

  I do know that I’m very self-conscious in a skirt that definitely does not cover my ass, that is thankfully clad by some very tight underwear. The top of the skirt comes over my belly button, hiding some of the softer flesh on my stomach.

  “Don’t worry. I worked with your body’s best features and made it the sexiest outfit anyone has ever seen,” Anna tells me.

  Swallowing thickly, I resist the urge to
cover up my breasts, that are scarcely bound by a slinky bikini top with megaphone patches to hide my nipples.

  I’m not the sort of girl who can pull this type of look off, and I wish people would get the fucking memo.

  I spot my one and only male ghost speaking directly to Emit, and watch as Emit ignores him. Then suddenly he jerks his gaze to him, and he gestures for my ghost to follow.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Anna.

  “With Emit or the scathing glares directed at you?” she muses.

  “Any answer would do.”

  “Your lips are moving but they can’t hear your words,” the triplets say as they take a stand on my other side.

  “That’s not even remotely close to being on the very important topic of what the hell is going on,” I tell them all, trying by damnedest to remain calm.

  “Judging by their reaction, the wolf is hurrying to a chopper to save the Van Helsing. It seems Damien has sent Talbot to fly it for him. Don’t worry. They’ll be able to handle the problem,” the triplets tell me, wildly presuming I trust them at all.

  “And I just pissed Idun off to buy us a distraction and give them some time,” Anna says, smiling too wickedly for my comfort. “You’re the one who decided to play the masochistic martyr. You’re in the game now, Violet. Suit up.”

  “Anna?” I say on a tired sigh, all while suppressing the avalanche of hysteria that is hurdling toward me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I fucking hate you.”

  Chapter 32

  VANCE

  Something sizzles and pops, and my arm burns, forcing me to snap awake, only to be blinded by the harsh lights in the room.

  My head aches as though I’ve suffered another aneurism, but as I blink my eyes open, the memories slowly come back to me.

  That…fucking…witch.

  Chains rattle, and my entire body silently screams in agony, because I’m also reminded of how I ended up a captive. That witch boiled my blood and drained my air.

  The room is blurry, but as my vision begins to clear, I see the mirrored wall across from me, that shows my hands crossed and chained over my chest. My entire body is wrapped in some sort of black metal that is more constricting than any chains that have ever held me before.