“I remember you being more hospitable in the past,” I call to the room that oddly echoes for what seems like miles.
“Would my guest enjoy some entertainment?” she asks. “My favorite show just got interesting. An indecent cheerleader is making insults toward a powerful evil creature. I think it’s supposed to be a comedy, but it’s all rather silly some days.”
I watch as the mirror directly in front of me comes to life with video feed of the Monster Olympics. Violet is holding a megaphone, and my lips thin when I hear her taunting Idun.
“You’re jealous. You’re bitter. You’re tired. And you’re jaded beyond repair. It’s sadly all you have left, since all of them love me,” she goads, winking over at Emit and Damien, who the camera pans to.
Why are they standing there and watching like gaping fools? Fucking do something, you worthless tools.
“My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” Violet carries on, not sounding at all sober. “Damn right, it’s better than yours.”
Who got the bloody girl high on gypsy spice? Why would they think that’s a good idea? This is why I suffer constant aneurisms.
“I feel like playing a little tag, Ribbon Girl. Bobo, sit the next round out,” Violet carries on, and then reaches out to drop the megaphone.
“Fuck’s sake,” I say on a long exhale, as I drop my head and feel my chest deflate.
I’m going to be killed, and Violet’s gone and pissed Idun off, simply to be belligerent.
“Vancetto Van Helsing,” Pandora says as the screen freezes and fades from the mirror, until only my reflection remains before me.
I’m chained to the damn wall in a way that resembles a helpless bug spooled by a spider’s webbing.
“The prince of silver came to play a witch and ended up being played.”
Her laughter echoes around me, bouncing off the walls in that creepy way of hers.
“I came to have a conversation with you and ask some questions. I never intended to play you,” I tell her, only to be met with stony silence.
The room is an odd prison cell.
No door. No window. Just a row of mirrors on one wall, and brown, rectangle stones everywhere else. The way out must be through the mirrors.
I strain to pull at the chains once more, only to be left winded and completely unsuccessful.
“Interesting metal, Pandora. Care if I ask what it’s called?”
“The Van Helsing is impressed. He should be. He always did underestimate the crazy old blood witch,” she chides. “Is there a woman you don’t look down on?”
I exhale harshly, groaning when I find no purchase under my feet.
“I don’t look down on women. In case you’ve forgotten, part of my curse is protecting women. I revere them and see them as delicate. You should know. You’re the one who fucking orchestrated this eternal madness,” I grind out.
“I was a mere messenger with a powerful box of dirty deals. I’m certainly not the architect of your misery,” she argues, her voice hollow and still distant. “Is this what the Van Helsing came to ask?”
“I came to ask if you’d help us find a way to dilute Idun’s power so we could find a way to turn the wheel of power again,” I answer, hoping against all odds—
Her laughter interrupts those pointless thoughts. Well, this is one mistake I won’t live down.
Captured after rushing headlong into an obviously bad decision.
Fucking great.
“The wheel of power? You broke the wheel. I see no way to restore it. I warned you not to spread such fiction back then. Your desire to protect someone you loved and saw as weaker only made you the fool. You made your flocks believe she was stronger than she was. They in turned believed it. Now she truly is that powerful, and she’s only warming up. She’s about to be stronger than ever, if she’s not already. Today’s world is full of touch-of-the-button technology. She’ll be invincible before long, after she spreads her influence on an easier global networking system,” she carries on.
She’s already invincible in many ways. Not that I bother pointing that out.
“We have a plan, Pandora. You don’t have to choose her side. We’ve already started weaving seeds of doubt, using some of Violet’s victories in our favor. If we—”
“Do you hear yourself, Van Helsing?” she asks, as the mirror in front of me opens, revealing her as she steps in.
Long, dark, braided hair is drooped over her shoulder, as she moves into the room. Her gold dress matches the color of her lipstick, and her tan skin still glistens with the youth she stabbed the world to take.
I remember once thinking she was a stunning beauty. Now she seems like a cold, vapid shell of the person she once was.
“Eternity hasn’t treated you very well. You’ve gone mad and you still fight for Idun,” I bite out, meeting her cold gaze.
“Indeed. Eternity has been a bitter harvest to reap. I’m not gambling what little bit I have left on the losing side. I watch Idun TV. Your girlfriend looks to be nothing more than a sad little parasite. Idun’s clearly toying with her, giving her plenty of leash. You all look like fools for loving that girl and building her a sanctuary with no future.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she carries on, while spinning the ring on her middle finger.
“You think with your dicks. It makes me grateful for my vagina. I’ve lived too long to be short-sighted or naïve. It’s baffling how foolish you’ve gotten, but I’m sure your dick’s had plenty of fun. I hope it was worth it, Van Helsing.”
The burning in my left hand reminds me what woke me up in the first place, and my eyes drop, even as Idun TV starts playing on a new mirror.
As I struggle to move my hand through the thick, endless chain cocooning me and find out why only that one spot is burning, Pandora keeps speaking.
“I’ve tried to seek your reason for your actions. I’ve watched all the footage. You don’t even know how long she’s been above ground, Van Helsing. You have no idea what’s truly been going on. Idun’s been preparing. The only true purpose your girlfriend has served was expediting Idun’s public reentrance into the world.”
“She’s been up longer?” I muse, trying to give nothing away.
Her eyes turn and assess me too shrewdly, proving I’ve given something away. I’ll blame it on my circumstances and disorientation.
“You know she’s been up longer than she claims,” she deduces. “You’ve discovered one of her breadcrumbs? She always leaves you breadcrumbs when she plays with you.”
“I didn’t find it. Violet found it,” I confess.
“Oh, so you know Idun was your favorite housekeeper?” Pandora asks, watching my expression.
I can’t keep the surprise off my face, and my jaw grinds before I can stop it.
Pandora grins. “Clearly that’s news to you. So you learned about the she-wolf she imitated?” she guesses.
Whatever is in my eyes is what gives her the answer, because she grins as though that pleases her.
“Silly wolf,” the lunatic crows, and then barks and howls.
My attention turns to the screen, where Arion and Damien stand alone. Where the hell did the wolf go?
Arion seems barely in control of himself, as he jerks a pack of blood away from Emily’s hand and tears into it like he’s thirsting to death.
“What do you expect to gain from my death? Why the hell did you bother going through all this just to kill me?” I grind out, glaring over at her.
“I don’t want to kill you. I like my new show, and it’ll be cancelled if the finale starts too soon. It’s fun to watch Idun’s puppet show. Whether you live or die depends on the vampire and the Simpleton Portocale,” she answers, sighing happily when the camera pans to the Simpleton tent, where Bobo is hanging his head.
The Simpletons are all quiet, eyes cast downward. No doubt they’re in the finals of tag. Everyone else would have found a way to lose to avoid being in that match with Idun.
Emit wouldn’t hav
e even been able to keep his alphas in the running, because no one can spare the indignity right now.
“All because Arion plans to take Violet as his bride tonight,” I mutter under my breath.
“The bloodsucker wants his bride. The old cow wants back in her pasture with her four bulls. The Van Helsing wants to live another day. I simply want my pets left alone.”
My gaze flicks between her and the screen, as she caresses the cheek of Bobo on the image.
“You made a deal with the devil again, didn’t you?” I bite out.
“The only devil I know is your first beloved,” she says in response, not looking away from the screen. “You’re a fool to not realize I’ve always been helping her, Van Helsing. It proves I’ve been wise in choosing my side,” she carries on.
It takes a long moment for that to sink in, and it chills me to the bones once it does.
“You hated the Portocale curse, but it wasn’t a priority of cases to solve. In a way, you enjoyed knowing another died,” Pandora tells me, and then turns and winks, while pressing her finger to her lips in a shushing motion.
As if she believes all she thinks to be true, she doesn’t give time for a rebuttal.
“I won’t tell on you to Violet. She’s too soft. She’s also remarkably arrogant for one so soft,” she continues, returning her attention to the screen. “You really do let too much slide with her.”
She releases a mock sigh, tsking me. All the while, her attention stays on the TV.
The chain finally shows enough of a gap to catch a glimpse of a black line that almost resembles a tattoo.
I don’t have a tattoo.
“What do we have here?” Pandora asks, as I try to move my hand out of sight.
I glance up, just as she moves her hands outward, and the chains part enough to show her the front of my hand.
My gaze quickly drops on reflex, the curiosity burning as steadily as the sizzling fucking skin on my hand. A watching eye symbol seems to be getting branded on the patch of skin between my thumb and index finger.
A breath of pain hisses between my lips when it gets particularly scorching. Suddenly, the pain subsides, though there’s a constant dull burn that stays steady.
“What’s this magic, Van Helsing?” Pandora asks in a calm tone, eyes narrowing.
Since I have no answers, I don’t speak, but I do take the opportunity to shove my hand through the opening. The chains latch on, and my blood boils once more, rendering me helpless for long enough to be sealed back in place.
Uselessly struggling against the chains, I look for any possible silver. Then I feel something hard against my wrist. Surely, she didn’t leave a weapon on me. The witch isn’t that careless.
I’m certain I feel it, though.
My eyes move to her, doing all I can to give nothing away. Maybe she’s so crazy she overlooked it while spinning me in the unknown-metal chains.
“I see you’ve kept your edge over the centuries,” I note, admittedly sounding bitter about it.
She smiles and bats her lashes, enjoying the compliment.
“Indeed I have, Van Helsing. How kind of you to notice,” she says.
My eyes flick to the screen, hoping she does the same thing. Instead, she keeps her gaze on me, while my brow furrows at the sight of Violet in…
What the bloody hell is the girl wearing now?
“I can only assume Bobo picked the uniform for the Simpletons,” I note, staring with some horror at the overalls covering the baggy T-shirt.
She’s wearing a sweatband around her head, and her hair is pulled up in a ball on her head. Don’t even get me started on the high-top white sneakers.
Idun steps forward in her sports bra and unnaturally tight-and-indecently short shorts.
“She can pull that look off better than you,” Anna says to Violet.
Violet glares at her, since this is the perfect time for her to be glaring at a ghost only gypsies can see. On live TV.
She’d look a fool to anyone who couldn’t hear or see Anna.
In all honesty, she’d look a fool to those people too.
“Now is really not the time,” Violet bites out.
“She’s too stupid to understand she’s not being brave,” Pandora chides, still not looking away from me. “You have a Simpleton girlfriend with a Portocale spine. You see her as someone clever, crafty, and quirky. Young love. It always makes you an imbecile when reality comes crashing down.”
My gaze returns to hers, as she shows true emotion for the first time. Anger and bitterness crest in her eyes, as the chains tighten on me.
“Bobo was the love of my life, but he unfortunately had no spine. His heart took up too much space,” she says, as tears gather in her eyes.
“Neoprys and Portocales are the only ones to have ever harmed Simpletons in any manner—body or mind,” I’m fast to point out.
“Oh, but you broke their spirit. They had so much respect for all of you, Van Helsing. Especially you. As broken as you were, you’d always taken up for them. You’d always shown Bobo even more respect than you’d shown a woman. Even the woman you intended to sacrifice a piece of silver for. Such a huge sacrifice for all eternity,” she says, the last part dripping with sarcasm.
“Honestly, Pandora, it’s nothing but a dead horse you’re all beating. I’ve suffered severely for my shallow sacrifice.”
My gaze flicks back to the screen, and I watch as Idun smirks. In the next instant, she blurs across the field, and she slams into Violet so hard I hear numerous bones crack and echo through the otherwise silent stadium.
Violet makes no sound other than a slightly pained grunt when she hits the ground in a broken, lifeless heap.
My heart damn near stops in my chest. The camera pans to the vampire tent, and I curse, needing it back on Violet.
“Oh, the show’s getting sad now. She’s about to learn the hard way what you couldn’t make her understand,” Pandora says with a sigh. “But at least it’s not my pets anymore.”
The vampires are barely holding Arion back, as the fury doubles in his eyes.
“Violet said to let her handle this. As your future bride, she deserves that respect,” the triplets say in an attempt to manipulate him.
It seems to mostly work, but it’s obvious his composure is a thin shell at best.
The camera pans to Damien, who is staring with a furrowed brow, while he slowly stands to his feet. He stares in some confusion ahead of him.
The camera pans back, just as Violet stands and snaps her broken neck back into place. Her arm cracks and pops as she sets the broken bones there, all while never making any sort of verbal noise.
Her back stays turned, and she smiles as she looks over her shoulder at Idun.
“I don’t know the rules, but isn’t excessive violence breaking one or two?” Violet asks her with more brass than brain.
“Just kill me and get her off the field,” I tell the bitch, who’s forcing me to watch this while bound in chains.
“And spare you the indignity of being all tied up in a trap while your young and dumb girlfriend gets punished for your own insolence? Absolutely not. Now you know how it felt to watch my Bobo wither away under her reign. And she’s just getting started, Van Helsing. I’m afraid you stuck your head in the sand for too long, and now you’ve got it up in the clouds. One day you’ll look ahead and actually see what’s really going on in front of you.”
“Then help me, Pandora. I’ve gotten quicker, smarter, faster, and more determined. Arion’s in the best shape he’s ever been in. Damien is at an all-time high, and he’s actually a contender for a change. Emit’s gained strength since his mating, and his wolf is in more harmony with him than ever before. If we had your help, we wouldn’t need two or three centuries to dull her image. With you, we could do it in under a century,” I tell her.
“Recruiting me this late in the game will reap you no awards, Van Helsing,” she says, holding my gaze. “I’m not as strong as I once was. You missed
your opportunity. My magic has faded and withered and bled back into the world I borrowed it from, since I held onto it for much longer than I was meant to have it. Your ‘plan’ is a hopeful fool’s errand, and you know it, or you would have tried such a thing long, long ago. It’s only now you’ve turned into a hopeful fool, though, so I suppose hope is the thing to blame for making someone outrageously idiotic.”
She presses closer, almost as though she’s planning to tell me a secret.
“I trained an occult of witches who had small traces of blood magic in their trees,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Who do you think was leading and hiding the shifters during the long years she was underground?”
I tilt my head, studying the batshit crazy woman anew.
“Why would you do that? Why stay loyal?”
“To raise Idun, of course. I’m loyal because she’s in charge, and there’s no changing that. The witches or shifters would fetch the Portocale sacrifices. I’d have my occult use their magic to help me siphon the life from them into these,” she says, holding up a locket.
“Then I’d wear the necklace to one of the gravesites and started the long process of unsealing Idun’s graves. All while sending you into pain and misery upon the death of one of those orange-smelling gypsies.”
“As well as the Simpletons, who are also affected by that curse,” I point out.
“It was going to happen anyway. However, their Portocale curse broke after the first death woke them. Marta Portocale severed that curse, and could have done the same for you all along. But she hated you and loved your suffering.”
She’s so genuine in dropping that last big dig, that it distracts me from the next bone-crunching I hear. For the moment, I’d rather stick my head in the sand than see Violet go through this pointless beating.
“How could you possibly know that?” I ask her, giving up on struggling with the chains.
She turns her head to the TV for the first time, and I summon the silver, feeling it slide into my fingers. I work it to a short blade, and manage to stab into the chain…
Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6) Page 28