Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  His eyes are almost wide in apology, as I watch the light fade from his gaze. My attention slants back toward my father’s direction.

  Just as I’m about to charge him, a cry of pain is wrenched from my throat, and I drop to the ground, as my skin starts sizzling. The feeling isn’t unfamiliar. It’s fucking Van Helsing silver that seems to be growing on me, which makes no damn sense.

  Zuela’s garbled, pained noise is almost immediately alongside mine, and his eyes dart over toward me, as my cousins move in on us. I struggle to lift up, fighting against the searing pain, but nothing moves. It feels like my body is being coated in the damn silver.

  My family circles us, grins lighting up their faces, as Marta releases a shaky breath, looking between us with worried eyes.

  “I told you we just had to wait for this curse to take effect. They died for no reason,” Gabriel, my youngest cousin says to my father, glaring over at him.

  My father smirks at me, and then his foot slams across my face. My neck feels to nearly snap off my shoulders, and my ears ring. For a brief moment, all I feel is the jarred sensation.

  The full brunt of the pain catches up to me in the very next instant, and my vision goes speckled.

  “You really don’t want to hurt him,” Marta says on a shaky, somewhat worried breath.

  Just as a drop of blood drips from my lip, my gaze settles on a ghost that appears in the room.

  She grins, and the sound of glass crashing all around sings through the air. The fragments of it spray into the air, almost as if in slow motion, as my ears continue to ring, the hit I took leaving me damn near woozy.

  With some disbelief, I witness every adversary blown through the walls, almost tearing the cabin apart, as the ghost starts dancing.

  “I’m Diva, bitch!” the ghost shouts, as she fist-pumps the air…and then shakes her ass at someone.

  My brow tries to furrow, but the pain is so severe in my chest. I’m brought back to the reality that I’m slowly being painted in Van Helsing silver.

  Marta swallows thickly, and she shuts her eyes, startling when Diva comes to sniff her hair. The ghost releases a dark grin.

  Ghosts can’t smell, so it’s all for show.

  I don’t know what show I’m watching, though.

  I spy the silver spreading up Zuela’s neck, quickly approaching his lips, as Diva stretches and pumps her hips toward me. She squats and grins right in front of me.

  “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll save you until help can come. Don’t forget my name, or I’ll spank you when I’ve got a body,” she tells me with a wink. “Isn’t this like soooo much fun?”

  Even if I could speak, I’d have no idea what to say. A ghost just threw several alphas around. Sure. Why the fuck not?

  Right now, I’ll take any breaks I can get.

  “Someone salt that fucking ghost!” my father yells from what sounds like a terribly far distance.

  Diva straightens, before she dirty-dances her way to the front, and then I hear her shout, “Bring it on, bitches! Diva’s gonna whoop some alpha ass tonight!”

  A female ghost appears before me so abruptly that I would startle…if I could move. She’s dressed in a hypnotically dizzying, black-and-white pattern, while the bells on her jester’s hat jingle.

  “We’re all a little mad here,” the ghost says, as her neck swivels all the way around on her shoulders.

  Her elven shoes jingle at the ends of their curled toes, which isn’t possible. Ghosts don’t make sounds when they move, even if they did die with bells on them.

  Bloody fucking hell.

  “Damien, what is this sorcery?” Amos asks in a hushed whisper, moving several feet away from the dizzying ghost.

  My eyes dart to Marta, as the new ghost laughs and joins Diva doing whatever in the hell it is that they’re doing. Marta stands there with her eyes closed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask the crazy woman.

  “I’d rather not rile it. It doesn’t particularly like me, since I worked damn hard to suppress it for all those years,” Marta says, swallowing thickly as she gives a small tremble.

  “What are you spewing on about?” I grind out, feeling my throat starting to close, the next words evading me.

  Marta’s eyes open and land on mine, and the fear in their depths shines too freely.

  “Violet loves me more than it, and I’m terrified of it,” she says, her hands shaking.

  My eyes ask the question my lips can’t form, as even my mouth becomes immobile, paralyzed by the silver’s effect.

  Something burns deep inside me, almost as though it’s crashing through me with the same, yet uniquely different pain.

  I’m forced to endure it without making a single sound, as the silver stops stretching across my body.

  “I have more sway over my daughter than it does, or at least I did. Therefore, I’m the one person it’s jealous of,” Marta says, eyes brimming with tears. “Lucky me,” she adds with a humorless, shaky note.

  The two opposite pains that are pinning me to the ground begin to war against each other, as the chaos increases outside.

  I’m not sure how or why, but the unnatural silver assault seems to be lessening. I watch as it recedes from Zuela, whose face is contorted in more confusion than agony.

  “Prepare yourself, fellas,” Marta says on a shaky, chilly breath. “It’s just getting started.”

  Chapter 38

  EMIT

  An echo of laughter has me jerking my head to the right. The woods are empty, and not a sound stirs from that direction.

  Another echo of laughter has me jerking my head to the left, and I barely catch a glimpse of a woman in a long, white gown disappearing inside of a tree.

  Ghosts?

  Why are ghosts haunting me?

  I start sprinting again, warily glancing around, when I hear more laughter. The white-gown ghost moves from left to right, her laughter drifting through the woods, nearly surrounding me as I rush on.

  Just as I turn my head to look in front of me again, I damn near trip over my own feet, my eyes widening, as the ghost blocks my path.

  I stumble to a halt right in front of it, my hair raising on my body for no particular reason. Her dark hair is oily and tangled, as well as draped in front of her face, hanging down to her waist.

  She lifts her head, and the hair naturally falls to the side, revealing a white face with solid black eyes. I actually jerk backwards, as the ghost grins a black-toothed grin at me, seeming far too ominously excited.

  My hackles rise, my instincts walk me back a step, and the ghost laughs loudly.

  “You’re too late, wolf. It’s already done,” the demented ghost says to me with a scratchy, rasp voice.

  The howling in the distance ceases for the first time, and my heart kicks in my chest. Without another second of hesitation, I launch myself through the ghost, racing toward the camp.

  My feet pound the sloppy earth beneath me, the tension ratcheting up with every stride. My breath echoes back to my ears, as my heartbeat kicks up harder.

  I slide through the mud, skidding to a halt in front of the safe-house.

  My eyes widen and my nose burns against the overwhelming stench of…dead shifters.

  The pads of my paws sink into the mud, as I move closer, too stunned to react just yet.

  There are at least seventy, maybe more. It’s hard to count, considering how severely gory the field is.

  It’s almost reminiscent of the infamous barn massacre, but with green blood instead of red.

  Speaking of green blood…it drips from one body part or another, and I wade through the carnage, slowly turning in a circle to take in the many pieces littering the treetops as well.

  My breath snakes out, and I turn to head toward the silent cabin before me. The door opens before I reach it, and Charlotte’s terrified, trembling form peers out.

  “A-Alpha?” she says on a scared whisper.

  I shift back to my skin, watching her eye
s rise. Her gaze stops rising when she reaches my chin, and she stares at it instead of trying to meet my eyes.

  “What happened here?” I ask, as the lightning crashes somewhere in the distance.

  “Someth-th-thing stopped them,” she says, her body trembling that much harder.

  “What stopped them?” I ask, turning in a circle, still counting pieces.

  “I don’t know, Alpha. It must have been the vampire. I only saw it through the window. The shifters were so dominant, alpha. All of them. It was damn near suffocating, and every wolf was intimidated, even me. I’m so ashamed, but—”

  “Arion did this? You’re sure?” I ask, my brow crinkled in disbelief.

  “I can’t say for sure, Alpha. Tell him what you saw, Jacob,” she says, backing away, as her mate, and one of my human fathers, comes toward me with lowered eyes.

  He bristles, uneasily darting a worried gaze around.

  “I didn’t see much. I heard a woman’s voice saying something about shifters dying if they engaged in conflict with her, or something to that effect. But that was it.”

  “A woman?” I echo, my mind flicking back to the creepy fucking ghost. “Marta? Perhaps my mother? Almost all the alphas are here today, so pick one.”

  “I-I don’t know all the alphas well enough, but it was too fast to be a wolf, Alpha. I would have seen glimpses of fur at the very least.”

  “Start at the beginning and tell me what you did see.”

  “I was securing the cellar, and we were preparing to fend the outrageous squad of shifters off for as long as we could. All I could see was movement. No form. It moved too fast for me to see what it was, Alpha. I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of anything but a hint of red here and there.”

  “Red?” I ask, certain Idun was wearing a red top. I think.

  But she wouldn’t have killed her own shifters to save my wolves. She’s the one who would have ordered the slaughter.

  “Just a streak here or there, Alpha. It could have just been blood I was seeing, but they were all dead with the first strike, so it should have only been green blood, so it’s hard to be certain. Not a single one had time to scream, and it was over within less than a minute. Nothing’s faster than the vampire besides Idun, right? And Idun wouldn’t have done this, so it has to be the vampire.”

  The rambling ends when he swallows the rest of it, and I circle around once again, unsure what the hell to think. Then I gesture for them to follow me.

  “Come on. Let’s get you to Sanctuary. They have a more fortified House.”

  “Idun TV is back on!” someone shouts from inside, just as I drop to my knees, an instant, painful burning attacking me so intensely that it steals my breath and traps my howl.

  Unbearable pain licks all the way up my spine, and my throat is too frozen to even release a sound. My skin feels like it’s bubbling off me, and my head swims, nausea sweeping through me with force.

  Voices echo in my ears, as my face slams into the wet ground. I’m not sure how long I’m there, as Charlotte, Jacob and several of the others try to move me, only to have their hands burned.

  I’m dropped back to the mud, as my mind floats into a fog, the pain too overwhelming to stand.

  Then something just as unbearable builds in my core and damn near explodes outward.

  A garbled sound barely escapes me, as the two bone-jarring pains war with each other.

  What the fucking hell is happening to me?

  Chapter 39

  ARION

  I knew better than to come here. I knew it would be missing. I knew it’d do me no good to ever attempt to hide it from her.

  I stare at my empty safe with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Somehow, she knew where you hid it,” I tell a trembling Shera, who swallows so loud it echoes through the room.

  “I swear, Alpha, I never told anyone—”

  “She has a mind-reading gypsy freak beta, who can also skin-walk and shapeshift just like a Neopry alpha,” I interrupt, my voice calmer than the anger rising inside me.

  “C-can I ask why that necklace is so powerful?” she asks, true terror in her voice.

  Howls sound in the distance, wolves barking in panic and fear, as I stand in my cellar, staring down at the broken concrete and destroyed safe.

  “It held the excess hope. It was meant to be given to Caroline to cherish and nurture. But Pandora should have known better. Once Idun saw its beauty, she had to have it. Once she tasted its power, she punished Caroline for keeping it a secret,” I answer on a tired exhale. “And I was stupid enough to fucking believe it held no power or meaning to her anymore. She was simply fucking waiting for her opportunity.”

  “I-I swear I never even thought about where I hid it,” Shera stammers.

  The room continues to chill the longer I stare at the empty safe.

  “Demetria can skin-walk, but you still would have sensed her authority over yours…unless her Neopry alpha was close enough to cloak her,” I murmur to myself, nearly whispering the last part.

  She whimpers, because whether she heard it or not, she still would have pieced it together for herself.

  “Not once did you think about it?” I ask, as the wolves continue to howl in panic.

  Surely Emit is tending to them. I have no idea why I’m itching to go aide the fucking wolves.

  “There was once,” Shera says in a hushed tone, as though something’s just occurred to her. “It crossed my mind so briefly I almost forgot about it. I was preparing your new office with timeless, yet modernish pieces. I took a lot of time to put it together in hopes you’d appreciate it,” she says, seemingly unable to pass up an opportunity to point out her best deeds, even in a time of crisis.

  “Shera,” I bite out, prompting her to hurry it along, when she simply stares at me like she’s expecting some sort of appreciation right this moment.

  She shakes her head, and then she nods.

  “Right. Right. I was putting in some of your personal effects, and I ran across your small portrait of Idun that you carry around. I couldn’t help but think of it, because that necklace was staring me right in my face. Normally that portrait was kept in your office vault. I don’t know how it even got in that box.”

  “That was Idun,” I say on another tired breath, while massaging my forehead to stave off the pounding headache. “She meant for you to find that piece and deliberately provoked the thought.”

  Right under my nose. That bitch was directly under my nose all that time, and I spent my attention on pointless vampires and petty betrayals, by comparison.

  I remember Shera decorating that room, while I was privately haunting my House, spying on all the traitorous bastards running amuck. I remember her finding that portrait. I even remember wondering why it wasn’t in the vault, and I got a little irritated with her for her incompetence with such an important article.

  “Damn it. She didn’t skin-walk. Idun was likely too weak to cloak her. Instead, she shapeshifted to her smallest, least threatening form. There was a cat in the windowsill that day. You had to shoo it off afterwards. Demetria is the only one who can shift into a creature that small. There’s a reason she’s the only beta clever and sly enough to ever elude an alpha so easily,” I say tightly, furious with my own self.

  “Cats are all over this town. They’re drawn in by the overwhelming spirit energy. I wish I could see the ghosts. The sheer volume must be staggering,” she babbles, as though she’s so nervous and rattled that she can’t help herself.

  Something crosses my mind, and it’s so obvious that it’s a little disturbing.

  “It was her. Had to be,” I state, feeling distracted by my new train of thought, even as I try to keep up with the current conversation.

  Lately, distracted is all a man can be, considering so much is happening all at once. All. The. Time.

  I remember finding life to be a bit too boring. I miss boring.

  “Say that again,” I tell Shera, as I hurriedly go
to the monitor on the wall and pull up the recorded footage of Idun TV. “What you just said.”

  It’s the footage of the minutes before Idun TV shut off.

  “About the cats?” she squeaks, and then immediately clears her throat.

  “No, about the sheer volume of ghosts that must be in this town, and how you get so used to them that you simply learn to tune them out. You almost grow blind to them, in a sense. They’re completely irrelevant beings, because you’re seeing into a second plane not everyone can see. You know the dark dangers that lurk there, because ghosts played a heavy part of this entire damn thing by poisoning the minds of the living with their hatred. Ghosts rarely wanted to die before their deaths, as I’m sure you know, so the afterlife was a bitter journey for most.”

  “Um. I said I couldn’t see them,” she states in confusion. “I said exactly none of the rest.”

  I was so wrapped up in how many times that fucking ghost put me down that I didn’t even stop to think. It was all happening so fast, and it came out of nowhere.

  Violet had no reason to stay on that field after Vance had been retrieved. She deliberately challenged Idun. Vance’s captive situation was just the final straw.

  “At first I thought it was because she didn’t want Idun to know when Vance had been rescued,” I murmur, saying that part aloud. “Just in case Idun had a backup plan. Violet’s either arrogant or naïve enough to try to outthink Idun. That much I truly believe.”

  “What’s that, Boss?” Shera asks, her voice quaking, as the howls go immediately silent.

  “I can’t even outthink Idun, and that’s become painfully clear,” I carry on, even though Shera has already moved across from me, and is timidly peering out the window, while clearly not listening to me.

  Doesn’t matter. I don’t need her to help me piece this together.

  My stomach muscles contract, and a chill pricks along my spine. It almost feels like there’s a breath and a smile against my neck.