As soon as the door shuts, Anna whispers, “I want to tell you that you’re underestimating her. But I watched you get hit by that Van Helsing flogger two hundred times, and you stood back up.”
“She could kick my ass in any fight,” I assure her, remembering that last hit she delivered. “But it’s tiring to keep breaking things that can’t stay broken. She’ll get bored with the same sessions over and over.”
“What happens when she wants another Simpleton to tear apart and study like a science project? She’s focused on her ex-quad for now, but eventually she’ll want to play with all the new toys she can use in her fucked up experiments,” she says very seriously.
I smile a little. “Do you really think my mother will ever let that happen?”
“Your mother is a horrible person, according to most everyone,” Anna primly adds. “I’m not fond of her either.”
“You stood in a room full of alphas who saw you that close to all those Portocales, and you didn’t turn to salt. Stop being so brazen.”
“Stop making this about me,” she counters.
“Stop trying to make Idun my problem.”
“You took a beating from the bitch feared by all and smiled about it. Who do you think is drawing more attention?” she goads.
I cut my eyes to her. “Do you really think they’ll overestimate what I’m capable of?”
She hesitates, and I see her sigh in defeat.
“Oh, good grief. Let them see you stake a vampire one time, and they’ll know for sure you’re not much to watch,” Anna groans with a shudder. “It’s so sad. I wish I could unsee it.”
I cut my tired eyes to her. “I hate you so hard.”
She starts shaking her ass in her inappropriate underwear as she sashays through a wall.
“I hate you harder,” she says from the other side. Then she squeals like she’s excited. “Oh! Someone left the porn channel on in here! Score!”
A chainsaw revs just before someone screams, as the volume increases, and I groan. No doubt someone is getting sawed to pieces right now.
“If I had real fingers and a vagina, I could totally masturbate right now!” she adds in excitement.
“Crazy fucking ghost,” I mumble to myself while massaging my temples.
Walking out to go find her, I pause, because I spot Jerome at the end of the stairs, leaning against the wall as he grins up at me.
“When did you get here?” I ask as I hurry down the stairs toward him.
“Just a minute ago. Shera said you had some free time, and I thought we’d get some coffee. Tom let me in, which is weird, since I thought this was going to be a hotel. Usually there’s easy public access.”
Idun’s being punished, so she’s not around, from what I gather…
The timing’s good enough, and then I can usher him out of town before he sees anything.
Dad is smiling as he walks by the stairs and toward the back, a little more pep in his step than usual.
“Nice to see you again, Tom,” Jerome calls out.
“Happy to see you two talking,” Dad says back, which just causes me to roll my eyes, because my father is delusional.
Jerome needs to be anywhere but Shadow Hills…or any other town full of immortals. Dad is a little desensitized to the threat, because he thinks his ex-wife and daughter are the most brutal monsters the world has to offer. He’s overconfident.
I don’t have it in me to explain the truth. Yet.
“Sure,” I say, smiling tightly, hoping he’s just passing through. “I’m actually about to acquire some new land, and I was wondering how hard it would be to put in some security measures. You have good timing.”
I look back to see his smile growing.
“I know the drill. Don’t ask questions. Even if I worry I’m contributing to a growing cult,” he says like he’s amused.
Before we can make it to the door, a loud, panicked scream echoes throughout the corridor. Jerome grabs me at the waist and yanks me back, just as Louis comes running around the corner with his freaking clothes on fire.
I shove off Jerome, rushing to Louis, but a fire extinguisher starts spraying, and I hop away from the spray, as laughter breaks out all around. Louis starts laughing as well, while I drop my head back and silently remember all the times I terrified my mother just as much, so that I don’t say something right now that she’ll throw in my face later.
“Why? Just why?” I ask incredulously, as Ighan finishes spraying down Louis.
More and more gather around to laugh, as Louis pushes up from the ground.
He starts stripping out of the flame-retardant suit.
“It works!” Ighan says too happily, as Vance comes out of the kitchen, cursing as he fans smoke away.
“What the hell happened?” the annoyed Van Helsing snaps.
“Oh, so they’re still hanging out around here?” Jerome asks as he clears his throat, gesturing toward Vance.
Vance’s eyebrows go up. “Who the hell are you?”
“The guy who designed all this and helped make it happen in five months. I’m sure you noticed him during that time,” Anna states very dryly from at his side. “You’ll want to play along, because I’m doing you a solid right now, silversmith,” she adds, as Vance quickly smooths his expression and tries to play it off.
Jerome, fortunately, doesn’t seem to see or hear her. Since Leiza did, I’m now paranoid.
“Right. Sorry. I guess I was a little absorbed during those months,” Vance tells him. “Never mind. I remember.”
“Yeah, you guys were working on some weird paranormal show for some chick and trying to make it look like a reality show,” Jerome says as he steps a little too close to my side.
Vance’s eyes sweep over Jerome like he’s now amused, before his gaze shifts to me.
“You didn’t mention getting friendly with the contractor.”
“Architect,” Jerome and I correct in unison, only causing Vance’s amusement to grow.
“Hey, Jerome,” Shera says as she passes, waving her fingers.
Ighan claps Jerome on his shoulder. “Y-y-you st-staying with us?” he asks.
Jerome’s gaze flicks back to me, and a steady smile grows on his lips.
“You still single?” he asks, pointedly avoiding Vance’s subtle glare.
“So, what about that coffee?” I deflect, really wanting away from all this awkwardness.
Jerome smirks over at Vance, which is just ridiculous testosterone, and I take his arm to start steering him toward the door.
“No more fires inside the house unless they’re in the fire room,” I remind them, as Jerome’s hand barely goes to the small of my back, and he takes over the guiding as we step outside.
Five months. Five freaking months. Not one time did I feel one of their stares burning my back as I walked away with Jerome no differently than we’re walking right now. I feel two stares on me right now, and one is trying to make a mental connection.
In the quietest whisper I can muster, I announce, “You’re both dicks.”
A brief glimpse of Damien fucking me is forced into my mind. I mentally flip him off and hope he somehow sees it in those mind mirrors the asshole uses. One day, I will understand how his powers actually work, and I’ll probably feel silly for it.
Until then, I keep mentally flipping him off, as we walk into the coffee shop.
CHAPTER 13
DAMIEN
That fucking wanker.
I’m going to tear off the wanker’s wanker and give it to another wanker who wants a wee wanker.
“Who the fucking hell is he?” I ask, as Vance joins me in my thousand-feet-away-from-the-sanctuary rooftop perch, watching Violet as she sits across from the wanker, who’s going to suffer all those things I already mentioned. “And why is she smiling at him like that?”
“That’s Jerome,” he tells me flatly, clicking his tongue as he just glares. “He’s been helping Violet create this damn sanctuary while we ‘worked on our silly
little TV show for our ex,’ according to Shera. She seemed to enjoy it, as if she were savoring delayed gratitude when I demanded some answers.”
“Are those all the answers you got?” I ask, looking at the fool who has an invitation and isn’t sharing the full wealth of information I’m sure he’s collected.
“I’ve spent my day teaching Bobo and Ighan their way around the kitchen so that I could talk to them about the expectations of today’s society. You know how much pride they once had in themselves. They need to contribute in order to feel as though that’s truly their home. They know the utilities are expensive, and—”
“I really don’t fucking care about Ighan and Bobo right now,” I cut in and angrily jab my finger at Violet, as she bloody laughs at the wanker’s stupid joke. “I care about what you’ve learned about this developing situation. What sort of action needs to be taken on a scale of one to death?” I ask very seriously.
“Death,” Arion states dryly as he drops to my other side with very little warning.
He bites down on one of her green apples, gaze steadily on Violet and the daft wanna-be-beau, as he listens to the same puppy-dog flirting bullshit I hear coming out of that wanker’s mouth.
“No, it wasn’t,” Violet is saying around a laugh. “It was Ms. Peppercorn. I don’t remember her real name, but she had all those peppercorn necklaces that made everyone sneeze.”
Cue dual laughter, as Jerome takes her down memory lane from the good ol’ days…
“Who is this wanker?” I ask again. “How long has he known her?”
“Someone tell me his name so I can dispose of the body properly,” Arion says, smiling darkly at us.
Vance exhales like he really doesn’t want to waste time dealing with him.
“Kidding,” Arion finally says a little sourly as he looks back.
We all watch as Jerome subtly reaches for her hand, but she uses it to tuck her hair behind her ear before he can, completely oblivious to his almost-touch, as her eyes scan the small menu on the table.
“Sort of kidding,” Arion amends.
“He’s an architect, apparently from one of the places Violet lived, and he erected her beautiful fucking sanctuary. He’s her hero right now,” Vance goes on, though the words seem to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
“She wants monsters. Not a fucking hero,” I chime in. “That girl is too devious for a hero, because she’ll make you fucking watch her body be tortured just to prove a bloody point.”
“We agreed to not bring that up, or I will end up doing very bad things that will only make the situation worse,” Arion reminds me very tightly.
“We agreed to do that around her, not—”
I shut up, because the wanker says something that finally interests me.
“So your life has gotten even weirder since we split up, and I have to say…I wish I’d been here to see how it all got to this point. You’re more mysterious than ever, Violet Carmine,” the wanker tells her.
We all go silent and still for a brief, palpable second.
“Since they split up?” Arion asks, as a slight chill causes our breaths to fog. “What’s his name?”
“Dead Wanker,” I say absently, just as Vance answers, “Jerome.”
“Jerome?” Arion parrots in a very agitated tone. “Jerome has spent five months tending to her one dream right under our noses? He’s the bloody ex she fucking lived with, you stupid fucks,” he adds like this is all our fault.
“She lived with him?” Vance asks, not sounding one bit happy.
Dead Wanker it is. Yep. I’ll carve it on his fucking gravestone myself.
“It’s not that interesting of a story, really. It just seems like it because you’re starting in the current middle,” she tells him.
“Current middle?” he asks her like he’s confused.
“Is he both deaf and daft?” I ask.
“I don’t know what current middle means either,” Arion says seriously. “Shut up.”
Violet shrugs at him. “Imagine if you felt that life would never end. The most obvious downside is that you’re perpetually trapped in the middle of your story—a story without end.” She spins the salt shaker on the table.
“But we’re just mere mortals,” Jerome says with a grin, as though he has really missed these sorts of chats with a girl who doesn’t belong to him.
“And we live our lives assuming we’re in the middle of our story, never seeing an early end, should it come. The goal is to live until you know your story is truly over…there’s an end in sight. It keeps the heart from turning to dust, because you don’t live too long to stop caring. The fault is that there may not be enough time to finish the story the way you want to.”
Jerome’s smile only grows, and I glare over at Arion.
“I hope you’re not kidding anymore,” I tell him very seriously.
“Vance, how badly will she hate me?” Arion asks like he’s weighing his options.
“She took a beating from Idun over an irrelevant shifter she hardly knew. What do you think?” Vance volleys, squashing the dream like a juicy bug under his shoe.
“You seem…still as crazy as always, but also content. Did you finally find your home, Violet? Or are you still just passing through?”
“It’s just the middle of my story right now. Who knows what tomorrow holds?” she tells him in a non-answering way.
“I hate him. I bloody hate him. He’s using their past as a bonding mechanism right now,” I point out, just in case they haven’t caught on.
They both glare at me, as I run a hand through my hair, finding this more and more disconcerting.
“Imagine what Idun will do to a human. He won’t be sticking around, because Violet would have to lock him in Sanctuary,” Vance says like he’s talking us and himself into that conclusion.
“What if he’s just passing through?” I bite out. “I won’t handle another man touching her. I’ll break his fucking brain if I go messing around in his human head with this much anger. Someone else needs to handle this.”
Arion looks over me like he’s actually soaking in this moment. “I’ve never actually seen you genuinely jealous before now. Idun fucked Dorian and you didn’t go this crazy.”
The air heats around us, and Vance curses under his breath, as Arion’s pupils dilate just barely.
“You acted unfazed,” Arion goes on, darting a confused look to Violet and back to me. “Were you this upset then?”
“I’d rather not discuss it. Dorian is a much bigger trigger than this wanker,” I tell him, slowly calming down. “Violet would never cross that line. But this fucking gnat needs to be gone before I do get upset.”
Arion studies me for a minute longer, before looking back to the coffee house where Violet is sipping from an oversized mug and eating cake from her plate.
“How’d you get an invitation?” Arion asks Vance.
Before Vance can answer, an annoying voice talks over him. “Not important. Violet isn’t being stingy with invitations. Merely ask and receive one,” Talbot Lane says, as he joins us like he has the right.
“I can’t decide if you’re truly this arrogant, or just this stupid,” I tell the fool.
“I’m determined,” Talbot counters as though he’s meeting me in the middle. “They’re busy manipulating her, and the more she’s manipulated, the more she will reciprocate in kind,” he tells me pointedly. “Your only point of valid reference is Idun, because aside from her, you’ve never had the chance to love another woman. Violet is altogether different, and no one knows what agenda she’s been building these past five months.”
“Aside from Emit’s omegas, who are playing dumb, even with me,” Arion states through angry strain.
“The omegas are either clueless or very good at pretending to be,” Talbot points out.
“What do we know about him?” Vance asks me, as he narrows his eyes at the cheeky incubus.
“He’s legit, with a millennium of age and respect under his b
elt. I’ve made calls and had him checked out. Arguably the best rogue beta of his kind,” I say, prompting the arrogant prat to smirk. “I still don’t trust him,” I add just to piss on his little smug parade.
“A millennium of age under my belt, along with a loud rogue beta title, and yet you’ve never heard of me? Makes you wonder how out of tune with the world the four of you truly are, or at least it should.”
I’d kill him…if he didn’t have a point.
“Idun’s always been a step ahead because she stays in touch. But even she’s blind to many things because they seem irrelevant. Violet is just starting out, and she’s learning everything for the first time. She has an advantage, while Idun is weak, because everything seems important to her,” he tells us.
“That’s not an advantage, you twat. It’s a weakness that Idun will extort,” Arion coldly points out.
“Damien Morpheous is a name that isn’t feared, because it’s a name no one remembers, unless they want to. It takes work to remember any Morpheous. Violet never forgets you even a little bit,” he carries on.
I pause, mulling over that, as I hear the sound of her sweet laughter again. She glances in our direction, but her vision is too limited to find us. Still, I can tell she feels our gaze on her.
“She’s been getting stronger these past five months. She’s started allowing herself to be struck by lightning quite often, and plays it off as an accident. She’s plotting something that will either turn her into Idun’s newest toy, or it will be the end of Idun’s threat,” Talbot adds.
Arion snorts and chokes back a sound of humorless laughter, as he shakes his head.
“You’re a thousand years old. Surely you’re wise enough to know a Simpleton is no match for—”
“No match for Idun before she went under. I agree,” Talbot says, interrupting me. “Before she clawed her way through those seals that Violet effortlessly lifted like she was made to do just that. How has no one still blinked an eye at that? She’s not some weak omega running a bloody house. Wake the hell up. No omega could have taken that beating.”
A chill slithers up my spine, as I narrow my gaze on her.
Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5) Page 20