Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)

by Kristy Cunning

“I’m not adventurous, because when I say I attract danger, I mean it very literally, and more so than ever before, at current. There’s too much adventure and not enough time in between to adjust. Now I realize it’s the curse of an omega, and it’s okay with me because at least I can take it. It takes the focus off other omegas who can die.”

“But the biggest difference is the fact that if I’m not happy, I’ll just walk away, Arion. I don’t fight for men who don’t truly want me. It’s just that simple.” “No, you fight against them when they do want you, because you prefer to be the chased instead of the chaser,”

“I don’t know why you’re chasing me at all. You had me, and instead of being honest, you used the trust I gave you very freely against me, Arion. How many times do I have to say that before you really hear it?” She’s being completely unreasonable.

Come to think of it, I saw the agreement in her eyes, I think, but she never did actually agree to come with me. Huh. How the hell did that happen?

I don’t particularly like it when the naïve little monster in front of me sounds like she knows me far better than I know her. Especially since she’s not even saying it to win an argument.

“She didn’t agree to this,” are the first words out of his mouth. “As soon as we’re finished, we’ll be joining you, so you’d better—” “If you know Violet so well, you’d know I’m quite well put in my place by this point,” I cut in, which seems to silence him. “Just when you form a plan of action, she does or says something that shatters that plan and leaves you fumbling around in the damn dark with no night vision.”

tells me in the tone that suggests he’s bloody holding my hand to walk me through this. It’s degrading.

“It’s just that…I was thinking we may be able to capitalize on this rare moment you and I are completely alone,” she hurries to add, moving closer to me on the bed—so close that my mouth waters. “And I’m too tired to keep pretending like I’m strong enough to stay stubborn.”

Then I decide I genuinely love Violet’s unpredictability when her lips clumsily fuse to mine, surprising me even more.

It’s the first time I’ve been touched by her…by anyone other than Idun. She could probably twist my danglers off and I’d still be unmanned at an embarrassing rate, because I can’t believe this is finally happening.

“I’d rather not be disgraced the first time I get to have you, and it’s been a while, love.” Her head falls back, and her eyes stare into mine as her lips start to thin. “So you chase me until I give in, and then you run? Who really likes being chased, Arion? I’m okay with this being quick.” If her eyes weren’t so sincere, I’d swear that was a jab.

“W-what are you doing?” she stammers as I work my body lower, bringing her legs up over my shoulders, as I stare up at her eyes. My lips twitch. “They’re failing you if you have to ask that question, love,” I tell her as my lips fasten onto— Her startled cry is the only warning I get before her hands yank all too insistently against my hair, and her hips start going wild as she makes a series of random, somewhat worrisome sounds in various pitches from high to low. Damn good thing I can’t smother to death.

Maybe it’s hysterical laughter that comes when someone’s mind finally shatters against the endless hits, but I have to swallow back that laughter to keep from looking insane to the vampire everyone else thinks is insane.

A glimpse of the man that shouldn’t still linger inside him—if he’s truly soulless—surfaces with his discomfort. There was a line crossed, and he feels like he’s the one who wronged me. A soulless creature incapable of feeling anything shouldn’t be capable of guilt. That proves there really is a piece of his soul left, just as Shera has referenced numerous times while championing him.

I nod again, deciding I need to triply fuck up the potion. I’ve never actually tried for a fuck-up before. I should probably try to do it exactly right, so it’s a more organic fuck-up.

“Every second they spend making me feel special, protected, surrounded…it’s another second I feel the most un-alone I never dared to dream I’d feel. They almost sort of get me. I think. I know they like the root of me—and don’t turn that into a dirty joke,” I state, and…then determine I’m dangerously close to being certi-fucking-fiably crazy. “I sincerely, truly hope my mother comes soon, because I don’t know if they have monster shrinks, and I need one before I crack like an egg. For a normal person, that’s catastrophic. For me? Yeah, I don’t want to think about it.”

“Maybe I’m not going crazy if I’m talking to you…on the off chance there’s a secret dimension I’m unaware of. Right now, I’m having a major identity crisis during a possible nuclear moment, and tackling the prospect of having four boyfriends. Perhaps I’m already batshit crazy and don’t even realize it.” I think worrying about going crazy is certainly going to make me crazy.

To be honest, I’m enjoying the comfort of his touch, and that’s another level of concern to be assessed at a saner, future moment.

I’m the monster who happens to be incapable of staying mad forever, and I’m the pathetic monster who fell for the vampire when he was just a harmless ghost. And every single thing he does wrong seems to be eclipsed by all the very gentle things he does with only me.

“Do you really think Idun would even pretend to lie on me like this?” Arion asks in a rhetorical tone, running his lips up her cheek. “I was the kicked puppy of the lot, in case you’ve forgotten. The loyal dog who wouldn’t stray was always treated the worst.”

“Damien,” Violet whispers around a moan in her sleep, her leg sliding higher on Arion’s waist. When Violet makes a short little sound of pleasure and lightly grinds against Arion, the vampire shoots Damien a dubious look. “It’s Violet,” Damien finally says, eyes blinking like he’s been trying to get inside her head, his entire body sagging in relief like he’s positive.

As soon as Violet’s not on him anymore, I’m punching him in the face. Mostly because I haven’t ever noticed that until now, and I hate him for pointing it out. Also because the wolf is near the surface, since he’s left me in a frenzied whirlwind of dread and anger all fucking night.

Vance turns and walks out much calmer, and Damien almost sighs in relief, as Arion forgets we’re even in the room. Arion’s no longer just Idun’s. This is proof. Violet has done the impossible, and she’s stolen Arion from Idun’s clutches. He’d never have a casual affair. It’s a line he’d never cross just to trick us.

Of course, that still leaves the naked werewolf and naked vampire in the room that no one seems to be discussing. Okay, then. Time to tip the crazy scale just a little more in my head. It sucks so hard to be me some days.

“A girl’s got to put food on the table, even when there’s a head to hunt. Only the girls who dare to be too pretty eat for free,” I say, looking back over to Mom’s eyes, feeling too much hope tugging at my heart, as it slowly sinks in that this is really happening. She clears her throat, darts a glance around, rolls her eyes, and huffs out a breath, as she follows it up with the next two lines. “Pay with heart or pay with cunt. Both come with the highest chance of trickery,” she mutters like she can’t believe she picked that burner riddle.

Mom says like she’s educating the forgotten village idiots.

“If you continue to touch that Vampyre in front of me, I’m going to get my feelings deeply hurt,” she states stoically, but I can see the truth of those words in her eyes. “I’m standing between this Vampyre and you, so stow your hurt feelings, since I’m expected to stow mine.”

“If you can all promise not to touch my daughter anymore, I’ll share what I know, and trust me, you’ll want to know what I know,” she baits them. Arion snorts, Damien rolls his eyes, and Vance smiles tightly, as Emit makes no expression at all, eyes on my side that he can’t even see. It’s fine now. Mostly.

“My poor dear. Did I leave you this vulnerable? You’re not this naïve, Violet,” she snaps. “Stow. It,” I remind her. “Or we’ll start this conversation at the beginning. Not the end.” Her jaw grinds, but I’m so not having this conversation with them present and she knows it. I do have boundaries.

“Ha! You eavesdropped on me and knew I was alone when Arion went to make a call. Why didn’t you come out then?” I say as I point a finger at her, practically dancing like I’m excited I caught her. “That was private between me and a dead ghost you killed with that spirit thingy you put on me without my permission!” Vance runs a frustrated hand through his hair, muttering something about not understanding what’s going on right now. Damien just shoots me a disbelieving look, like he can’t believe I’m actually yelling.

“Monstar quad, Violet? Fucking really?” she adds like she’s embarrassed by me. Ah, so she heard that too. I grin on that one. The less emotional horror on her face is priceless.

Emit a lopsided toga that lands on his body. Everyone’s gaze swings to him like it’s weird for him and normal for me to be in a toga. Awesome. Damien muffles a sound, Emit arches an eyebrow at me,

Emit and I in our matching togas, even though his is the fitted sheet and riding up in some funny places. He looks like a caveman who accidentally bleached and shrank his wardrobe. I palm my face, embarrassed for him.

Worst seventy-nine seconds ever. Math doesn’t add up? Yeah. I’m upset about those extra nine seconds as well.

Poor Emit has to duck out of the unusually small elevator, and the bottom of his ass cheek plays peek-a-boo on one side. Damien finally snorts, and even Mom struggles to keep a straight face. That really pisses her off.

“Really, it’s a long story, but I swear Emit—the tallest one in the fitted-sheet-toga—generally wears pants…er…I guess you guys call them trousers over here. Anyway, we had some plane problems,” I carry on, and then realize I have to account for the fact we’re both missing clothing. “Then there was a fire that miraculously only burned our clothes, because Emit put all my flames out by smothering me with his body,” I state like that’s exactly what happened. Why do they look so scared? I’m not telling a scary lie. At this point, I’ve just made it worse, and fortunately Damien takes mercy, clamping his hand over my mouth as he starts steering me toward the door before I can make it…whatever comes after worse but before the worst.

“Another minute, and she’d be bragging about his penis size in quest to save his dignity. Did you really want to hear that?” Damien asks her, forcing me to groan against his hand.

But I point at the sunroof. “Emit’s not going to fit any other way.” “This is the absolute worst week of my entire bloody existence,” Emit seems to say in a decisive tone, staring at the car like it’s the most offensive thing ever.

We all need sensitivity training, because we watch without an ounce of shame, as he truly struggles to put himself in what is possibly one of the smallest cars ever. The other three would struggle some too. When Emit’s head pops through the opening sunroof, Vance scrubs a hand over his face. “This is why you have rebellions,” Arion says with a restrained smile. “You can’t be taken seriously.” Emit cuts his eyes to Arion, but how…can he be taken seriously right now?

“I’ll take the clown car with the wolf, the livid Portocale, and the reason we’re all even here right now,” Damien chirps, eyes on mine as his lips tug up in an amused grin.

She’s yelling in a way that just seems like tense, loud talking, and Violet’s only slightly more animated than usual, as though she’s attempting the same peculiar thing.

“I accept that things just blow up around you. I accept that you’ll wear a sheet without shame. I accept that you attract things that like to kill you. But how does something like this just happen, Violet?”

“Of course you’d ask about my money. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again, that’s my money. I hid it so you didn’t bury it in some snow-capped mountain where it’d probably be lost forever,” Marta drones on, not making any sense in the slightest. “Fair enough,” Violet says with a nod.

She finally looks back at her mother when Marta pulls a hideous, cheaply-made, fabric doll out at last. All that digging for that very anticlimactic, sad, somewhat disturbing little doll? Violet’s eyes light up, intently devoted to the doll, and Damien shoves by me so he can study her better. There’s a look of pure awe and joy on her face, as though she couldn’t be any happier in this moment.

“They’re insane,” Marta says, using her loud tone. Stuffing tumbles out of the doll, and Violet grimaces, as Marta rips it from stem to forehead, using the knife. “Bit of a pot-to-the-kettle thing to say while gutting an unsuspecting doll,” Damien quietly points out, drawing a glare from Marta.

“You did a zigzag. You know I hate the zigzags,” Violet tells her, even though I’m so lost by this point I don’t really know what’s going on. Is this how Violet feels around us when we’re talking?

“Really…though. What is happening right now?” Damien asks again. Everyone looks to Arion, since he seems to have the most answers at the moment. “Why the bloody hell is she grinning about fixing the doll Marta ripped up? The doll was supposed to be a gift, right?” he asks with the same confusion. “What sort of message is that supposed to convey?” Damien asks, now looking at me like I have a damn clue what’s going on.

never once—in any capacity—was her mother described in a way that could have suggested Marta, the doll-killing-paranoid-enigma, was her mum. And I didn’t know she collected those sad little button-eyed dolls either.

Marta’s grin stretches, and then it falls abruptly, and Violet bats a hand before laughing. When Marta throws her head back and laughs as well, I check to see if there’s a fucking trap.

Another nod, and Marta grins this time, while Violet looks like she’s swallowed something sour. “Let the vampire take the punishment, Van Helsing,” Damien states idly, as he takes a step toward the door. “Or let me.” “Neither of you will make it there,” I lie, hoping one of them moves, because I fucking can’t unless it’s to intercede on Marta’s lawful behalf.