Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  Bobo points to himself, as if signaling she’s just like him. His eyes water harder.

  “I couldn’t do it. So I damned her to do it for me,” he adds, lips trembling, as he turns and begins to silently sob.

  The damn, poor fella is definitely all broken up about this. I’ve had a long relationship with guilt, but I don’t have his heart. Bobo is the gentlest man on the planet, who still lives with all his few sins.

  “Guilt is heavier than burden, isn’t it?” I decide to ask, my gaze steadily fixed to Bobo, who says nothing. “I imagine it would be even more so for you and yours, given the fact you’re much gentler people.”

  “I got angry,” he admits, though it’s noticeably hard for him. “We all got angry. And we made the only decision we could, assuming someone would build an altar and get a little more than they bargained for. It was a risk they’d turn out worse than Idun, of course, but we were desperate. Now Violet has a monster inside her that rivals Idun’s, and we all know what Idun’s monster has done to her.”

  He stares at Arion the longest, as if reminding him how very different the vampire is than he was before his sacrifice.

  “She wasn’t ever a delicate, caring woman, but we all know she wasn’t this ruthless until after the altar. What she’s done to Caroline…” Bobo’s voice trails off, and his lips tighten, as though he feels he’s said enough.

  We all take a moment to hold our silence, because there’s no easy way to explain Idun, as we know her, to him. Though he fears her, he still believes there’s good left inside her, and he blames her monster for everything.

  Just as he blames all of our monsters for everything.

  When a mute man speaks, everyone tends to listen and remember his words.

  “Violet’s been getting angrier and angrier. Silently stewing most days. She turns into a block of ice at the mention of Idun’s name. Since Idun came to town, Violet’s warmth has been chilling to nearly inexistence,” Bobo adds, choking back a sob, as his shoulders start to shake.

  “Her monster’s been riled this entire time, and she really has been posturing against Idun,” Vance says as he takes a step back, realization of some sort seeming to dawn on him.

  “No,” Marta and Talbot both say in unison.

  “She’s not been posturing,” Talbot assures us. “Hyde is linked to the host on a deep level that influences it. We all know that Violet loves collecting toys, making shampoo, and toying with potions because it’s…fun.”

  Marta gives us all a dead, tragic look.

  “Hyde’s been playing with Idun. It’s fun,” she tells us.

  It’s so surreal that none of it is sinking in. None of it is making sense. None of it plays by the rules.

  I don’t know whether I want to stick my head in a bucket of water or a box of sand.

  “By age four, Violet started talking to ghosts I couldn’t see,” Marta says, her eyes stirring with anger.

  “By four she should have been dead, but Hyde’s mind was purged from memories, and it began this journey as a babe this time. It started at the beginning this time. You binding it merely made it smarter,” Talbot assures her. “But I was desperately hoping you’d found the answer to all my problems, and hoped for the best, since it was better attempting to put it in the box again.”

  “He’s the reason I faked her death,” Marta informs us, smiling tightly. “Once I was no longer vulnerable, I regretted trusting anyone at all, aside from Tom.”

  We all swing our gazes to Talbot, who rolls his eyes.

  “I fell for it, and Hyde must have escaped. It was heavily suppressed,” he confesses. “I sensed it again in later years, but never could track it,” he says, his gaze flicking to Vance.

  “Until a Portocale gypsy was spotted amidst the hearts of the Head Alphas,” Vance guesses, smiling tightly.

  We really were fools to fall for a Portocale.

  We were fools in general, but Violet brings that out in a person.

  “I still didn’t take it seriously until she raised the Simpletons,” Talbot admits. “I can’t sense Hyde to the degree I used to be able to.”

  He abruptly lifts his shirt, and gestures to a very familiar symbol that is slowly appearing on his skin.

  “Then this showed up approximately the same time Violet’s head came off,” he adds, pointing to the symbol.

  “How were you turned into an incubus? Pandora couldn’t be changed. She tried after her magic dried up, according to my sources,” Zuela says, reminding me he’s even here.

  Per the usual, the older Van Helsing seems to think his suspicions are the most relevant item to discuss.

  “I was mortal when I turned into an incubus; however, I do believe my unique status elevated my spell’s strength, in the long run. If I hadn’t been too drunk to give the ceremony the exactitude it needed, Idun may have been dug up and destroyed several centuries ago when I first unleashed Hyde,” he babbles.

  Everyone’s phones start going off, which can’t be a good sign.

  “Explain yourself,” I state to the shifty new player on the board.

  “I’m explaining that the monster I created is stronger than any monster my mother could have created, because I was a blood-witch incubus. The only one of my kind, as far as I’m aware. You boys are the first models. Idun’s the enhanced version, due to an extorted detail. Now that Hyde is immortal, Violet’s the bloody upgrade.”

  No one really knows what to say. It sounds insane.

  Violet has a more lethal monster than Idun? The girl who froze among wolves trying to tear her apart because she couldn’t decide if it was right to kill them? The girl who built Sanctuary because life and death suddenly felt tricky? The girl who has dolls and toys scattered around her home?

  The girl who’d rather sew some awful outfit together, as opposed to spending money?

  It’s not even feasible.

  She’s not an alpha.

  An image of her stumbling over her own feet, while escaping the house full of botched-potion fumes flits through my mind. Red-faced and mortified, she struggled her way through our very first meeting.

  “The upgrade?” Damien asks, as though he’s unsure if he’s heard correctly.

  “The wolves are fending off the Neoprys near Sanctuary. We have to go there. Emit, you’re with us. Damien, you’re worthless until you recharge. Take your beta and see if you can track down Violet and Idun. Then see how true this is or isn’t with your own damn eyes. Fucking find her,” Vance directs.

  “If you’re wrong, and she suffers for all this, all because you got drunk and wanted a change, I’ll make your life a living hell,” I say through a growl, as I look over my shoulder at the blood-magic incubus.

  “I was no less miserable than you were when I made the decision, and it’s not like it could have been much worse. You were bitter, cold, and empty shells after you finally got her underground,” Talbot answers too casually. “If not for your omegas and betas who cared for you and kept you from neglecting your duties completely, I’d hate to see the world today.”

  “You’re too frank for someone I already don’t like,” Zuela informs him.

  “You’re too old to find this that surprising. Pandora made opening a box seem simple enough. However, it’s simply not simple at all to change the entire universe, and a hell of a lot harder than I ever imagined it could be to clean up after a mishandled box, while also tending some of your neglected issues. Be glad that I at least have a sense of responsibility.”

  I twist in the air, dropping to the ground on all fours, after shifting, and kick off to chase after the others. I manage to catch up to Vance, who looks to have hung back to deliberately allow me the time to do so.

  “How tight is Violet’s security system?” he asks, picking up the pace to keep up with me.

  I’m forced to shift back to two legs, barely breaking stride, so that I can answer him.

  “During lockdown, it held me back. But Idun could still break through. It’ll hold back the N
eoprys,” I tell him. “Hopefully,” I add.

  He makes a grunt, before running that much harder.

  “Put on some fucking fur. I can’t take you seriously when you’re naked, and it’s more disturbing than ever, now that you’re my daughter’s mate,” Marta grinds out, catching up to us.

  I don’t argue, because it has started feeling awkward to be naked around my mate’s mother…

  It’s a nice distraction from the fact my mate is somewhere, with my ex-mate, locked in battle. Especially since I have no idea if what Talbot and Marta are saying is true.

  It doesn’t feel…possible. Or plausible.

  I drop to the ground on all fours, racing toward Sanctuary. That’s when I hear the loud barks and howls igniting the air.

  Chapter 43

  VANCE

  Left.

  Go left.

  My urge to hunt has me desperately wanting to turn left to chase after the biggest, unlawful threat.

  That means Idun is likely in that direction, and I hurriedly pull up my phone to shoot Damien a text.

  A loud explosion has me pocketing my phone and hurrying that much faster, passing Emit, while my muscles scream from the extra exertion.

  A closer explosion rattles the ground under my feet, and ash starts raining from the sky, as I dart between buildings, moving faster on the pavement.

  I almost trip over my own feet when we finally get eyes on Sanctuary, because what I see makes no sense at all.

  Through the ash and debris that is serenated with the sounds of alarms wailing, stands Demetria…

  Demetria is standing in front of Sanctuary, repelling the onslaught of shifters. She’s bloodied, determined, and fierce, as she slices through one neck after another.

  Emit is stopped and staring with the same bewilderment, while Shera stands behind Sanctuary bars, eyes wide.

  “Fuck’s sake. She even turned Idun’s beta,” Marta murmurs with genuine surprise, clearly not in on the secret the rest of us are all missing.

  My eyes lift, and across the way, I spot Clyde Neopry, along with the full clan of Neopry skin-walkers. Each of them is just as powerful as any Head alpha—the family of misfits and unmatched power.

  “Their skin-walker halves feed on fear, and empathic Simpleton alpha fear is one of the strongest fuel sources there is. He was never going to let them go. Neither was Idun,” Marta states quietly.

  She twirls her Van Helsing silver sword, and I touch the dagger at her hip, turning it into Van Helsing silver as well.

  “Watch my back,” I tell them.

  Then I charge into the fray.

  Chapter 44

  ARION

  I scale the side of Sanctuary, elevating myself all the way to the top, and peer out, spotting the droves of shifters quickly racing this way in fur and in skin.

  They’ve sounded the alarms, warning the ones inside of an impending attack. Violet’s security measures will certainly be tested tonight.

  Just as I’m about to drop down, I hear the bars of Sanctuary open, and watch as Shera races out, her guns drawn and her swords resting in their sheathes on her hips.

  She fully quakes, prepared to defend Sanctuary at the cost of her own life.

  I should have locked her up at my House. My beta’s self-serving lust for survival has been diminished by recent selfless heroics.

  She’s a liability at this point—

  My brow furrows when I spot Ivannah walking out behind her, and she grabs Shera by her long ponytail. Shera makes a startled, pained sound, as Ivannah yanks her by the ponytail, throwing her backwards.

  “Stay inside, little vampire. Lock it down. No one else in or out,” Ivannah says over her shoulder…

  But it’s not her voice…

  It’s a very familiar, unforgettable voice belonging to the most notorious beta of all time. Also known as…Demetria.

  There’s a long moment of complete shock, as I watch her morph. My jaw grinds when I realize we’ve been fools all along. I knew Demetria didn’t seem like herself on TV. That’s because she was never there.

  Someone was playing the part of Demetria to keep us from realizing the mind-reading freak was right under our noses the entire time. Fucking skin-walkers.

  But how does Idun not know about Jasper?

  Just as I’m about to drop and slice the bitch’s head off once and for all, Demetria lifts a barrel over her head, and she launches it toward the first wave of rushing shifters.

  Heat wafts over me, and some unseen force nearly kicks me back. It takes two seconds for the sound of an explosion to catch up.

  Just as the entire world around us rattles in response, I spot the fire spraying, hear the screams, and smell the scent of burning flesh, all happening at rapid speeds.

  The front line of shifters is eviscerated, and the scent of Violet’s volatile potions singe my nose, even from here. Demetria turns and collects another of the barrels that I now regret pillaging.

  She launches it at the ones still racing in by the hundreds, and it ripples through the air with an almost visible pulse. Everything in its path is eviscerated, up to what seems to be some sort of magical barrier that stops it from crashing into the buildings.

  The center of town is a terrible place for a battleground.

  Alarms sound, pandemonium sets in, and Demetria grins, as she draws her curved swords from her hips.

  “Good luck getting by me,” she says, and then she twirls that signature twirl. The dance-like twirl that comes before heads roll.

  Demetria in a battle is almost ethereal, even as she radiates pure malice.

  It’s slowly sinking in that…Jasper is Demetria’s son.

  We’ve spent all this time focusing on his father as the source of power, never questioning much about the mother’s origins.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  Literally.

  My gaze moves just as I’m about to drop and lend her a hand, when I spot two Van Helsings, a Portocale, and a wolf all gawking at Demetria, as she singlehandedly fends off the relentless waves of shifters.

  Good to know I’m not the only big dummy around here. I feel better about that.

  Van Helsing’s look grows cold when he looks beyond the rushing shifters, and I follow his gaze to where Clyde Neopry stands with his chosen favorites.

  He was always insulted that Bobo was his first-born.

  He was never nothing more than an embarrassing Simpleton to a man like that.

  He’d very likely love nothing more than to obliterate Violet.

  I fall from the top, landing in the fray of shifters, and easily thin the herd to make it more bearable for Demetria. Avery comes rushing toward us with a small army of Van Helsing knights, each man armed and capable.

  “Can you handle this?” I ask him as I rip out a spine or two.

  “I can handle all but Demetria,” he assures me, through calculated movements, as he shows off his impeccable, efficient skills with removing heads.

  “She’s currently on our side,” I tell him a little unsurely.

  He almost gets his own head removed when he goes still and looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second nose or chin.

  Moving like a ghost, my hand stabs through the chest of the man about to best Avery while he’s distracted, and I rip the heart out.

  He releases a shaky breath, and gives me a nod of appreciation.

  “Don’t get too close to her, just in case,” I add, since Vance would kill me if I was wrong and Avery lost his life for that reason.

  Again, literally.

  With another nod, he moves, shouting orders to his knights, as they begin corralling the outrageous numbers.

  Shifters are lethal and unstoppable when they have strong leadership. They’re all bite and very little brain when they battle without it, and their smartest beta leader is battling against them, driving their instincts into a frenzy.

  It’s quite honestly the first time we’ve had this tip in our favor.

  My distraction ends when
I see Vance leaping over the shifter pack, dropping blade bombs as he goes. At least ten or so shifters die instantly, and Vance lands at my side.

  We stare at each other for a silent moment, giving Emit time to come to my other side.

  “After all these centuries of wise loyalty, Idun’s favorite vampire and top beta lose their sharp instincts. You weren’t going to have to go underground, Arion. You would have finally been able to rule by her side,” Clyde says, drawing our attention back to him. “You were going to be rewarded, and you cast it all away, thinking with your prick.”

  “Yes, because that sounds exactly like me,” I state tightly. “I always wanted them underground and miserable, so I could have Idun to myself. That’s why I went after the woman they all wanted. Makes perfect sense.”

  Clyde rolls his eyes.

  “It’s a little odd. Even when you were a preacher, you seemed too happy to share the woman you loved.”

  “Because, back then, I was weaker. I couldn’t protect her on my own, and they could step up in that area,” I say with a careless shrug, hearing some vicious warring still raging on behind us. “Now it’s because I miss the good ol’ days when we all got along. I guess you get sentimental as you get older.”

  I release a wistful sigh, and smile over at Clyde, who narrows his eyes at me.

  Emit smirks, as some dark menace rests in his eyes.

  Vance grins very subtly, ready for a fight.

  I’m running my mouth and pissing people off with honesty.

  It really does feel like old times.

  “Shame it has to end this way. I had high hopes for our families cleaning up this mess the three of them made with the Portocales in our absence. Monsters rule the world, boys. Not humans. Alphas reign with undisputable supremacy. They don’t deal with constant mutinies or unresolved vendettas toward the weak. You’ve all gotten too soft,” Clyde carries on, straightening his shoulders.

  “There’s every possibility your supremacy finally ends tonight,” Vance says, smirking in Clyde’s direction.

  “Why’s that, Van Helsing?” he asks.

  Idly, I notice Zuela and Marta moving this way, keeping a safe distance. Both of them are smeared in green blood that I can smell.