Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)

by Kristy Cunning

“You were broken, just like everyone else in the world, and instead of piecing yourself together, you got angry. You got vengeful. And you got really fucking cold, even if you are a hot head,” I continue, narrowing my eyes. “But how did you rise if fear is the connection to your power? Putting them underground, safely entombed, and ensured you would stay under as long as they did…all that should have watered down their fear. You shouldn’t have been strong enough to break through those barriers, especially severed in several pieces. Not even you’re that strong.”

“Worst are the gypsies brought to their knees,” I whisper. Instead of changing, the image stays the same. Briefly. From one second to the next, the images begin fluttering past so rapidly that I barely see them. In every frame, I witness one or more alphas on their knees. There’s only one I never see brought to theirs.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket—bread, I think—and hands it to her. Then he hands her what looks like a potion, and I watch as she hurriedly drinks it. My heart sinks a little, because I have no idea what’s going on, but this is Arion while he was in love with Idun. Why is this image accompanying a line about not trusting a gypsy without any gypsy pride. It can’t be good. But I watch as her body relaxes, and some of the bruises on her begin to fade… He gave her healing potions? From who? Why? I thought he was Idun’s monster—always on her side and at her beck and call.

Vance is slipping in, bringing her something as well. It’s a salve of some sort, and he drops it and goes without looking back. He stops at the end of the hallway, where Idun is on her way to Caroline, but distracts her, charms her, and guides her away…

Damien is in another scene when the world around me once again changes. He’s doing something similar. Twice his gaze flicks toward Caroline’s cell, and he lures Idun away after what seems to be an eternity of flattery.

Emit’s in several scenes after that, charming Idun away from Caroline, distracting her.

So many times, Damien is so furious and disgusted that tears gather in his eyes, when she turns out to be the true woman he was feeding from. Idun laughs in every scene for having pulled another one over on him. I finally understand why he was so cold to me, and why he immediately assumed me to be Idun. She’s fucked with his head too many times for me to even count on this never-ending reel of memories. Emit’s been just as tortured. Idun doesn’t pull punches. All his reels result in the same disgust and fury. Vance as well, given the never-ending strand of endless swaps. He seems less bothered by it. He was good about not allowing her to provoke him, even though I see the anger in his eyes when he turns around. His jaw subtly tics, and he walks out casually.

For Arion, she only wears that one face that is so eerily similar to Shera. He doesn’t stare at her like he wants to rip her clothes off. He stares at her like she’s a comforting, rhythmic set of waves that lull you into peace.

Idun goes to sit on Emit’s lap, and though his jaw grinds, he allows it, while she sticks her hand out to show Damien the minor wound he left her with. Eyes sharp and somewhat narrowed, he takes her hand, kissing it, even as his jaw clenches with the action. It gets harder and harder to play these games. Idun and Arion love them far too much. Despite their effectiveness at controlling population, it’s gotten too cold. It happens too often these days.

“Arion kept saying he thought it was all part of the game, but I didn’t understand,” the voice carries on, seeming to drift into the fog just beyond the window in front of me. “He’s a psychotic vampire, so sometimes the things he says aren’t really supposed to make sense to someone who isn’t quite that crazy. Now I realize he’s not always talking nonsense.”

“You played a part in front of the betas and omegas, creating conflict and war to keep the numbers under control, because it got complicated really fast. It damn near spiraled out of control when the bad bloodlines popped up.”

“But in truth, you were all still in love all these many years. Until it got out of hand and Idun got too bloodthirsty with too little mercy. The omegas warmed your cold hearts by wiggling their ways in, starting with you.”

“You didn’t give up on being an alpha. It hurt you the worst when she tricked you into loving her again. You really did try to get over her, but you’re a lover. You’ve always wanted someone to love. She tortured you the worst in that area.” Why is she telling him that? Why is she sniffling and wiping away tears as she hugs him? Damien would eat this sweet girl alive and leave pieces of her heart scattered across the sea just to teach the foolish dove a lesson. Daft female.

“You just always pretended it didn’t hurt as much as it did. You’re just that sort of man. You take the most pride in being hard to provoke. You take yourself and your role the most seriously. Centuries of responsibility and obligation, mixed with hard decisions and even greater sacrifices than you could have imagined,” she tells me so softly, as though she’s peering into the parts of my mind she shouldn’t be able to touch.

“I’m going to kill Damien for this outfit. Clearly, it’s not the one that would grab your attention, but it is hella embarrassing. Mostly because I’m not the kind of a girl who can rock a camel-toe.” Why in the heavens would she be speaking of a camel’s toe? I blink a few times, the only action I can seem to make. As she twists to check out her backside in a mirror, she speaks again. “And it’s tighter than that Catwoman suit I tried out my senior year, when I thought I wanted to be sexy at a Halloween party. I don’t get to be sexy, apparently, because the ass of it split. It wasn’t a sexy sort of split, either. Nooo. Part of my ass cheek poked out like a can of freshly popped biscuits, because the suit was that tight. I had to walk out, while everyone threw things at the lump of skin poking through the split, that gradually split more and more, carrying more biscuit-ass with it. Pretty soon, my whole ass was going to be squeezed out like a flowering blossom or something. Talk about the queen of all nightmares.” This woman is possibly unstable.

“Vance, can you hear me? As much as I want you to say yes, I want you to also tell me you didn’t just hear all that,” she says with a notable amount of dread in her tone, as I study the curious room. No one seems to notice us.

She smiles very brightly for whatever reason, and she squeals as if in delight. Why the hell is she clapping her hands with so much excitement? She is unstable. I’m certain of it now.

she reaches out and puts her hand over my heart. “I’m January Violet Carmine.” I arch an eyebrow. “And that’s supposed to give you permission to touch me?” I ask, given the fact I can’t do much of anything besides be a bit snide. I don’t want her knowing my movements are restricted. She’s clearly a powerful witch. I’ve not run across one this powerful before. No one is powerful enough to do whatever it is she’s done to Idun.

“So much for our deep and powerful connection breaking the curse. I need to find a way to get myself in danger. But this is all a lot harder than I expected. The one time I get support for one of my ideas, I go and overestimate myself,”

“I wonder if it’d be as easy as having sex with you,” the brazen woman says with no preamble. “Letting you feel all those emotions you stir in me could jar you out of the trance. It seems easier than somehow making a memory threaten my life,” she says, as my fingers tingle, more and more sensation spreading, alerting me that I’ve been somewhat numbed.

“I don’t have the body for something this tight. It’s really irking me that he couldn’t have let me come in my underwear. My body looks better naked than suctioned in skin-tight clothing that highlights every flaw,” she carries on, being entirely too critical. My body certainly appreciates the feel of her in that thin material. It makes me desperate to move.

I’m a man who prides himself on having control over all my baser urges, but this one is far too tempting. I’ve never wanted anything so desperately as I want to rip that fabric from her body.

“Damn these boots. I’m working hard to be sexy. Just look away for a second,” she says with another hop, nearly crashing into the wall beside her.

“You’re offering your body to me, witch?” I ask to be certain, as my toes move in my boots. “Of course I am. I’ll try anything to get you to snap out of this trance, especially since my prior plan doesn’t seem possible even to me. I wish I’d known you would only snap halfway out. I could have taken one of the others with me, and we could have staged a ruse,”

My foot slides forward, and I smile a little more to myself, studying the brazen morsel of temptation. So daring, young, and innocent, it seems. And ambitious, if she’s willing to do this right under Idun’s nose. I’ll name a ship after this one.

Seduction fail. Majorly. Damien is a sadist. These boots were meant to humble me in every way, and leave me with no dignity, since I’m hopping around, mostly naked, stuck in this fresh hell to explore. In front of Vance Van Helsing. The one who doesn’t already know that I’m great at ruining all of the ‘sexy’ when I try too hard.

“Are you truly brave enough to hold this bubble of illusion right in front of her?” he asks me in a tone that suggests he’s wildly excited by the concept. I don’t know this Vance. It makes me long for the real Vance, while also getting embarrassingly turned on.

This Vance sees me as a powerful, daring, alluring creature. Damn. He’s going to feel so stupid when he realizes it’s just Violet. I stifle a smile,

“I’m brave enough,” I tell him, deciding to feel a little badass for a brief moment, since that’s clearly what he thinks I am right now. If I’m honest, it’s empowering for Vance to think I’m badass. I like it.

“Then how are you so submissive that you’ll give me your throat?” he asks in a quiet but demanding tone. “You don’t have a tendency to bite, so why does it matter if I expose my throat?” I point out in deflection. I feel him grin against my neck. Usually, that would draw a bored stare.

See? This is why first impressions are so damn important. I can walk, talk, and act the same, but he’s seen me as something else in here. I’ll blame Anna for how the real Vance sees me. She’s the one who had me stuttering a defense to an orgy misunderstanding.

“If you’re really worth this terrible decision, then I’ll name a ship and a horse after you,” he tells me like he’s giving me a compliment. I resist the laugh, mostly because he’d feel insulted. He’s important. He’s fierce. And he’s definitely the highest expectation of man for this era. He’s su...

“What spell is this, witch?” he demands, as though I’m the reason we’re both being denied an orgasm. Fucking mental connection. This? This is where the line is drawn? Orgasms?! To be honest, all my senses are slightly dulled, possibly because this is just my head inside his head…

“How cruel of a woman are you?” he whispers, sounding both furious and really turned on. How screwed up were you? I don’t ask that aloud.

It looks like Europe. London? I don’t know. I’m geographically challenged, and terribly uncultured.

I bolt upright, my eyes flying open, and my head feels like it cracks, when it hits a hard surface that’s as unforgivingly rigid as a brick wall. Pain sears through my face and skull. Someone grunts and curses, and I immediately realize the vampire’s forehead is what has possibly broken my face.

“Shit! You just woke up and I now have another thing I have to apologize for. You need a warning bell strapped to you, you dangerous fucking woman,”

“I’m not sure, but one of the memories saw me, and attacked. The next thing I know, Arion is breaking my nose,” I point out, shoving my nose back into place, admittedly wincing when the bones crack back together. “No. No. No. You can’t go and do something impossible, and expect me to expect you to wake up when you shouldn’t have, and then move so fast,”

“You can’t do what you just did,” he adds with a rather passionate delivery. “Sit up too fast?” I ask in confusion,

Why does Arion look angry? Why does Damien look too tired to have an expression? Why is Emit covering his face and shaking his head?

“But he was. Tonight, anyway. You guys really underestimate him a lot. He’s a Head Alpha too,” I remind him. “And clearly more dangerous than I realized.” Damien grins like I’ve complimented him in some way.

“But then I sort of woke Vance from the trance, enough to make him think I was a witch with an agenda. He tried to kill me, since you apparently can’t have orgasms in the mind without Damien’s help, so I finished singing the gypsy song because I panicked. When we flipped scenes, a dude named Jack did attack me. But…then I ended up crashing into Arion, so…”

“She’s my Flame. I’m going to be twice as competitive with her mate. Simple math, mutt. I’m not letting you play your game anymore. You get to fuck up before me, so you handle this,” Damien tells him, gesturing toward me like I’m the ‘this’ that needs handled. I have no idea what’s going on, and I ask again for the date.

The side of my underwear suddenly goes slack, and I feel the tiniest kiss of metal. A breath hisses out of me when I realize he’s just sliced my underwear off with a thin knife, and he’s done it quickly, barely letting me feel the process on either side. I feel his smirk against my lips as he strips the rest of it away, lips greedily taking all he wants from me.

Vance leans down abruptly, and this time he flings his hand. Three knives fly through the air and stab the wall directly beside their heads. They all give him a round of blinks. “It can wait,” he says in a gruff, somewhat shaky tone, as he lifts three more knives, staggering them between his fingers with casual ease. “Close the door on your way out.”

Heat bubbles in my chest, and my body gets twice as excited, because Vance’s attention returns to me, heavily resting on my face. This is new. This look. This intensity.

He sounds so flustered and confused that it’s almost cute. Which isn’t a word I often use to describe the very overbearing hunter. My leg winds around his waist, and I kiss his shoulder.

“Probably has something to do with the build-up we had back when you thought I was a slutty witch. If we ever need to spice things up with roleplay, I now know exactly what role to play to get you excited,” I tell him, smiling against his skin. He grunts, getting more relaxed on top of me, and lifts his head to stare down at me with clear…bewilderment.

“Violet, I went to sleep and woke up with you mostly naked on top of me, a terrible migraine, and the undeniable need to have you under me,” he tells me, his tone almost absent.

“You seriously don’t remember?” I ask on a sigh. “You even said you’d name a ship after me, and I was going to have fun mocking you for that.” He blinks a few times, which means that probably doesn’t ring any bells. On the bright side, he doesn’t remember the camel-toe either. Though…Damien surely does.