“Yet there’s been no immediate retaliation,” Damien states quietly, eyes distant, as though he’s lost in thought. “She really is targeting Violet and not us. She’s just doing it discreetly.”
I’ve never seen the vampire so eerily calm and lost in thought. It’s quite alarming, if I do say so myself. Damien lost in just as much thought is slightly terrifying.
“Violet’s reminded us numerous times that it’s not about us,” I dutifully tell them all.
Our gazes all exchange from one to another as we hold our words and give this more serious thought.
“Marta holds the most information about Violet,” Arion finally says on a slight groan, pushing his face against the palm of his hand.
“I’m sure as hell not calling her,” Damien assures all of us.
“If Pandora did have a hand in crafting Violet, I doubt it’s a good thing,” Emit says as he looks at all of us again. “She doesn’t care about anything but the Simpletons. She took painstaking measures to try and save them, and ran away when she couldn’t, because she was in love with Bobo, and had a huge soft spot for Caroline.”
We all bristle, because suddenly that seems like a more likely theory once again.
“If she did help to create Violet, it’d be to take all of Idun’s attention. That’d be the reason Marta Portocale was given a daughter. Idun hates a Portocale more than she hates a Simpleton. Give her a Portocale Simpleton she can torture for all eternity—”
“And suddenly Caroline and the others are finally free,” I state, finishing the sentence.
“She looked directly at Marta and told her mother that it’s what she was made for, and said Marta knew it,” Arion says so quietly, as though that’s just occurred to him. “Maybe Violet already knows this.”
This conversation started exciting. Now…it’s brutally sickening.
Idun will never get her hands on Violet the way she had her hands on Caroline. I don’t care how many deaths I have to suffer, nor do I care how many of my knights I have to sacrifice.
“As soon as I get to feed, I’ll spin you some exciting illusions, little one,” Damien chirps, talking to the child as though the infant can understand a damn thing he’s saying.
I glare over at the fool. “This is serious, Damien. If Violet is by some fucked-up, graceless, comic punching bag meant to tempt Idun away from Caroline—”
“She’ll still be ours,” he says, interrupting me, while not taking his eyes off Jasper. “She made my heart beat again, and for the first time in ages, it didn’t feel so much like a damning nightmare. It doesn’t matter what purpose she has. She’s still going to be my Flame, and I’ll protect her to my dying breath.”
“Your people still refer to brides as Flames?” Emit asks with a surprised, embarrassed-for-him expression.
“It’s less lame than the Romanian original term used for our version of mates,” Damien mutters, narrowing his eyes at the werewolf. “My monster has had her before. The only reason she wasn’t claimed then is likely because she was in the middle of breaking a curse that shouldn’t have been so easily broken.”
“Or she just isn’t meant for you,” Emit drawls.
Damien’s hiss and distorted illusion of a face actually sends the wolf reeling back in surprise. His fist wrenches back like he’s about to pounce, as static clings to his hair very abruptly.
Damien smirks, as the small touch of his illusion drops, his face back to normal and no longer demonic.
“I hate it when you do that shit,” Emit gripes.
“I hate the fact that I tell you lot that Pandora likely had a hand in creating Violet, excited by the prospect, and you all changed it into something nefarious and terrifying,” Arion bites out, really annoyed with us.
Damien shrugs an unconcerned shoulder. “It’s not like we’re going to magically come up with answers right now. Pandora is too crazed by this point. It’s more likely she’s in a cave slinging her own poop at monkeys. Besides, she lost her magic, did she not?”
I open my mouth to interject my own opinion on the matter, not that anyone cares, when there’s suddenly a fifth voice in the room.
“Powerless or not, Pandora is irrelevant.”
We all jerk our gazes to the door where Marta Portocale is walking in, a somber expression on her face, as she finishes that statement.
“You’ve been eavesdropping,” I deduce, my eyes narrowing to slits.
“Only because the vampire left Sanctuary in a hurry and with Jasper,” Marta states like that makes it all okay.
She takes a seat near the fire, and Emit purposely slides away from her.
“You mated my daughter with a mark so big no one will believe you weren’t trying to rip her to shreds,” Marta grinds out, glaring at him.
“I exhausted myself to keep her from feeling any pain. Does that make me your favorite new son-in-law?” Damien drawls from the bed, as he tucks Jasper against his side.
Marta starts to speak, but then her eyes steady on the lad.
“Violet didn’t tell me Jasper’s secret. The four of you shouldn’t talk so freely outside of a soundproof room. It’s always been an issue for you. Fortunately, I ensured no one else heard. There’s a barrier spell that should last for another two hours,” she says, as her eyes flit over to mine.
I hate it when this bitch tells us what we should or shouldn’t do. In this case, however, I have to agree we’re a little careless.
“It doesn’t really matter if someone discovers what the lad is or what Violet is. I’ll just rip their spines out the second I smell them,” Arion states with a shrug of his shoulder.
“Excellent plan. Only, you didn’t sense or smell me coming. All because that baby really messes with someone’s senses,” Marta goes on.
We all frown over at the lad.
The memory of his mother nearly evading us springs to mind. At the last possible second, she was sensed. She also remained surprisingly calm during her captivity.
That’s something to revisit later.
“For all you know, there’s a coven or two out there with the same undiscovered genetics. It’s worth looking into,” Marta goes on, brushing some wrinkles out of her layered skirts, as she sits back and gets comfy.
“I’d rather talk about Violet,” Arion states, idly taking the other spot by Jasper.
“So would I,” Marta says on a very reluctant breath. “Because it’s clear now that she truly is replacing Idun for the four of you. Idun’s going to try to remove that mark from my daughter.”
“Why would she bother? She never wanted my mark for herself,” Emit states in confusion.
Marta scrubs a hand over her face. “No, but she does want the four of you. To have Arion, she needs all four. To have you, you can’t have your mark on anyone else. To have Vance…I’m not really sure what she needs. To have Damien, she needs to be a bit more randy in the sack.”
“I’m not quite that easy,” Damien tells Marta with a sneer. “Violet’s going to be my Flame.”
Marta groans. “You’re all painting her a bigger target than she already is!” she finally gripes.
Her tone sets the babe off into a tizzy of tears.
Maybe Pandora really is behind all this. Did she send us a girl we couldn’t resist just to drive Idun into a jealous rage?
Arion shushes Jasper, as he lifts him and cradles him to his chest, and Marta watches the vampire, while he gives the little one all his attention.
For a damn moment, you’d believe this was Arion’s son, given all the concern over a small little outburst of tears. Marta looks as confused as she does annoyed by the sight.
She blinks away from the scene, bristling.
Frustrated, I try to keep calm, as I start speaking again. “If Violet is—”
“Then she needs less spotlight and more time on her hands. Once other alphas get word that she’s something so special, they’ll be after her for their own purposes. Even if Pandora is behind it, it doesn’t mean we have to play i
nto her plans, you fools. Do you really think your families won’t want a taste of something so intriguing?” she grinds out.
Damien flicks a troubled gaze toward me, even as he pushes off from the bed to go grab a drink.
“We could be a family. Do you think any man or woman so suicidal as to attempt to take that from me?” Arion muses, gently patting the lad’s back, as he coos in content now, his tiny body comfortably resting against the homicidal vampire.
The vampire’s eyes swing over to Marta, who looks slightly horrified.
“You can’t keep the baby, Arion. He has a mother,” Emit points out, sounding worried.
“A mother who doesn’t particularly tend to him very often,” Damien adds, really not helping the situation. “Violet loves him more than his own mother.”
“His mother does want Violet to raise him and is practically forcing the situation,” Anna chimes in, popping in out of nowhere.
It takes a large effort to not startle.
“I think you’d be a cute little monster family. Even you, Grandma!” Anna adds in a gleeful tone.
“Salt that infernal thing,” Marta growls, glaring at Anna.
Anna gives her a narrowed, somewhat chilling look like I’ve never seen before. Then she smiles brightly, blows a kiss at us, and disappears.
“What kind of ghost can break through boundary spells laid out by a Portocale?” I ask in quiet confusion.
“The kind that shouldn’t exist. Violet’s crossed a line,” Marta states, clearing her throat.
“Does Violet know about this theory?” Damien cuts in, getting the topic off Anna.
“I made the unfortunate mistake of telling her that first day in the box, while the four of you overaged creeps stared on. It was a desperate attempt to explain why she couldn’t be with you all. If Pandora set all this up to tempt Idun into taking out her rage on another target, Violet can’t play into her hands,” Marta goes on.
Arion deliberately lifts his gaze to her.
“Violet’s going to be my bride,” Arion tells her matter-of-factly.
Marta pales, though she doesn’t look very surprised.
“Anyone, including you, who gets in my way will be destroyed. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this, Marta. I’d love to give you a demonstration of how serious I am,” Arion continues as though this is all conversational material. “I’ll sacrifice my full army if need be. Even my favorites.”
Marta’s shoulders drop, and though her jaw is so clenched that I’m worried it’s about to come unhinged, I’m surprised by her overall composure.
Never once have we all sat in a room together without it quickly devolving into threats and old grievances.
“I watched you all make Idun untouchable for a great many centuries,” Marta says quietly, interrupting my silent pat on the back I’ve just given her.
Trying to keep things from rapidly turning into a blaming fiasco, I calmly state, “I hardly think this is the time to throw up ancient history when we’re working to achieve the same goal: Keep Violet safe.”
Marta just glares at me. “I know. That’s the point I was trying to make. As much as I hate all of you and find it disgusting that you’ve taken turns touching my daughter—” Her words tumble to a stop as she releases a dramatic shudder for effect. “—at the end of the day, I know the lengths four of you will go to for the woman you love. My feelings toward you are irrelevant, so long as you do your part to ensure I don’t have to see my daughter at the whipping post ever again.”
Emit is the quietest of us all, even though we’ve all decided to stop talking at once. I’m twitching. Arion’s patting Jasper’s back. Damien is tapping the side of his drink. Emit is simply staring at Marta like he’s holding back a question.
“What’s on your mind, wolf? Are you thinking about more kibble for your empty pit-hole stomach or is there something of importance you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” I ask to break up the intensity.
He runs a finger over his lips. “Violet’s monster tore down nearly fifty strong betas,” he states quietly, glancing over at Marta with intent eyes. “She’s afraid of it because of you.”
Marta swallows thickly, slinking in her chair.
“How strong is her monster?” Damien asks, leaning up as if this conversation interests him more than he can bear. “A pureblood Simpleton and Portocale isn’t exactly a typical Simpleton monster.”
“Neopry monster,” I point out. “We’re only calling them Neopry monsters until we figure out a better name for them.”
“PC culture,” Damien snorts with a roll of his eyes. “We’d have had our balls handed to us if we’d gotten our feelings hurt over someone looking down on us.”
“We turned ourselves into monsters because we were sick of people looking down on us,” I remind him with a huff of a tired breath.
They all shoot me a look.
“I did it because I loved a woman and was sick of fighting for my life every single day,” Damien retorts. “Unlike you.”
I bristle in my chair.
“I did it because I loved that bloody woman and wanted an eternity with her,” Arion states. “I’m now glad I’ve lived long enough to find a woman worth spending an eternity with.”
Marta wrinkles her nose at him, but redirects her attention to me. “I did it to ensure an eternity of misery to the lot of you.”
Bloody cutthroat bitch.
“I did it mostly for Idun, but I almost hated her for what I had to sacrifice,” Emit confesses. “I carried through with the second sacrifice because I couldn’t lose it all at once.”
I feel singled out. “I did it for Idun too,” I tell them, though it’s a shallow attempt at blending in.
“You did it because you’re a prideful man who couldn’t stand being so powerless in those times, simply because of your heritage. But you wouldn’t sacrifice your heritage for the sake of your pride, because you’re proud to be a gypsy,” Marta tells me with a roll of her eyes. “We’re not fools.”
“You loved Idun, but not like you love Violet. What would be your sacrifice for an eternity with her, Van Helsing?” Arion muses, smirking in my direction. “What would you say is the most important thing you possess?”
I don’t like the turn this conversation has taken, nor do I enjoy the way Marta Portocale is staring at me as though she’d also like to hear the answer to this question.
“The point is, we genuinely don’t know what Violet is capable of. She slaughtered a barn full of betas in under five minutes and broke a cement truck in half,” I carry on, bringing us back to the severe gravity of the situation, which is the important topic.
Marta blows out a heavy breath. “She’s an above-average Simpleton. Physically, consider her the top-tier beta form of the Simpletons, who we all know actually act more omega than alpha, as far as mentality goes. Unless there’s a need to fight, Violet reacts like a Simpleton, who defuses the situation with humor and nervous laughter. However, when she’s in survival mode, she has a supreme killer instinct, which I contribute to the Portocale in her veins,” she states in an almost muted tone, her hands wringing a floral handkerchief in her grip. “She taunted Idun because she wanted Idun to look weak, simply because no one knows just how much Violet can endure. But my girl has been blowing off body parts, while simply trying to make hair supplies, since she turned thirteen.”
With a distant look in her eyes that is genuine as hell, her lip trembles and she clears her throat, quickly recovering.
“She’s not Violet when her monster takes over. She’s just along for the ride, and she won’t remember, until her mind slowly pieces together what it can after the fact.” Her eyes water, and I think Marta Portocale is genuinely holding back tears right in front of us. “But Violet is still just a Simpleton, and they’re only capable of so much. Any of us, or any other alpha, would rip her to shreds with very little effort, if our monsters got out. She’s arrogant because she’s young.”
“Car
oline’s monster—after all that torture—was still not strong enough to rip her apart while her guard was up,” Arion fires back at her, treating the situation with a tone that suggests he’s caught her trying to lie to us.
Marta looks confused, but she recovers quickly. “Caroline may be the strongest of the Simpletons, aside from possibly Bobo, but at the end of the day, she’s still just a Simpleton. Violet is part Portocale, and if her monster unleashes, she can put a Simpleton down, should the occasion call for it.”
At our look, she continues studying us.
“Again…” Her word is drawn out, as though she’s trying to assess our look.
“You didn’t know Caroline broke Violet very recently, did you?” Damien notes. “What did you think happened to her room?”
Marta glares over at Emit, who drops my very expensive, authentic, Wild West cowboy hat on his fucking lap to cover his stupid dick in front of his mate’s mother. At last.
“I assumed the wolf crashed in and stole her away. There was only a little blood, and it didn’t take long to realize she was being claimed when I tracked the scent of her blood through the air. The math added up,” she bites out, working hard to keep her very old temper in check.
Emit looks over at me like he expects me to save him from this nightmare, now that he’s gone and finally started feeling uncomfortable.
“Regardless, Violet’s monster managed to save her. It’s the only way Violet would have gotten away from Caroline. Caroline’s a danger to all of them. Her manic rages happen the most often, likely because she has the most pent up aggression,” I state, dragging everyone back to the important matter at hand.
“Violet’s monster is much faster than a Simpleton, and that gives her an edge. She’s no match for a fully functioning alpha. Maybe she could do some major damage to Damien, since he’s not bothered feeding, beyond my daughter,” she prattles on.
Damien cuts his gaze to her, lips twitching. “You’d love to see me fuck up right now, wouldn’t you?”
Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5) Page 29