Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5) Read online

Page 13


  I glance around, noticing there’s a lot more work done than I realized this morning when I passed through. I mean…that was this morning when I looked around, right?

  “That’s our fucking shifter,” Arion says, throwing his hand up at Vance. “Violet’s painting herself a fucking target, and this is a cry for help. That’s why she broke up with us. Now it’s just too obvious not to see.”

  My eyes go back down, as Shera walks out. Her gaze quickly darts to Violet’s slightly reddened eyes. Just those barely flushed cheeks and teary eyes have me immediately moving toward her. Shera’s eyes widen in a spontaneous deflation sort of way…like a balloon that just sprung a leak, as she darts a panicked look toward Arion.

  Arion’s eyes narrow, but before he can stalk toward her, Marta Portocale is there, her red cloak becoming visible as the hood falls off her head.

  Arion’s throat gets scissored between her two blades, and he resists the urge to rip her head off.

  Good dog.

  “Oh my damn, Violet!” an oddly familiar voice shouts. “The cloak does turn you invisible! You just suck at being a good gypsy! Now that’s the way to be a proper badass.”

  I dart a gaze around, finding only Violet for a second, and too many Simpletons rushing around with blankets, towels, and various other things.

  “I still hate your mom, though,” the familiar voice adds in mock hesitation.

  “Careful, Vampyre. I’m helping you out for once. You don’t even get to yell at that beta, because you can’t punish her in anyway unless you go through Violet with the same punishment first. You signed over that right,” Marta says as she withdraws from her own slight distraction the impossible voice brings.

  “What?” we all ask in unison, and damn near the same tone.

  I forget all about the enigmatic voice that is niggling at my mind worse than an unfinished song with just one bar of melody.

  “Was Violet manipulated into manipulating us into signing something so ludicrous?” I ask, glancing a suspicious look directly into her eyes.

  Clearly that’s what’s happened.

  “She told you to read the shit you were signing,” she points out with a small I-can’t-believe-I’m-having-this-conversation sigh. “Shera, Avery, the omegas…all of them are under Violet’s representation. You’ve all signed over your punishment rights to those individuals, and Violet is to be held personally responsible for them as long as she sees it productive.”

  “What the fucking hell does that even mean?” I ask her very seriously…as a baby cries somewhere in the distance.

  “Ahhhhhh! Ahhhh!” Bobo shouts as he comes racing through like he’s been traumatized, seconds before that baby cries again.

  Anna staggers out of there, shuddering like she’s also been traumatized. My eyes pass over her, trying to see into the door when it opens, but only catching glimpses of bodies blocking the view.

  “What the hell is going on?” I call across the damn—

  A chill slinks up my spine, and my eyes dart back over to the redhead in lingerie, as she does some stretches in front of a reflective surface.

  “Wh-what the hell is Anna doing here?” I ask, my chest physically aching from the sudden surprise of such a very, very alarming thing. “She’s a dead ghost!”

  Vance shoves past me, eyes wide and bewildered, staring at her with the same incredulity.

  “Ah, Anna,” Marta says like it makes sense. “She doesn’t like me, so she doesn’t come around me much. She’s afraid I’ll salt her to her third grave. She keeps a safe distance from me.”

  Marta makes a face of concentration, her eyes suddenly narrowing, and Arion hisses out a breath. “Move again, and I slice as fast as you can wiggle. Don’t underestimate me again, and don’t make me bloody my daughter’s pretty new floors on the first day she gets to call it home.”

  Arion’s holding back, and she knows it. He looks ready to kill, but knows he can’t.

  “What do you mean the first day she gets to call it home?” Emit asks as he looks around.

  Then I really, really look around. It’s amazing what the passive eye can genuinely gloss over when only a shred of attention is focused.

  It looks like a regal hotel from the roaring twenties, if memory serves. From the lavish gold touches, to the delicate fabrics…and all the edges are finished.

  “How long were we in that room, exactly?” I ask to no one in particular.

  “Just a few hours,” Arion answers absently, as his eyes rake over the fine marble floors.

  Marta releases him when she realizes she’s lost his attention.

  “Well, aside from occasionally seeking out my daughter, showering in Violet’s suite next to the padded room, and sticking your head out to ask Shera to bring you food, you’ve been in there for five months,” Marta states dryly, and then smirks. “I didn’t even have to suffer much while I waited for you to fuck it up. And you all did it at once, so kudos for doing it in one clean break. Shows you care a little.”

  “It’s a hiccup, Marta. She’s not free,” I state dismissively.

  Her eyes turn cold. “She’ll not be turned into Idun, or you’ll not live another day. I’ll cut you down every twenty-eight—”

  “Not in my house, Mom. Take the alpha threats elsewhere,” Violet calls from across the room, eyes directed solely at Marta, who just huffs in annoyance.

  I glance around again, and my brow furrows when I notice the Simpletons congregating in one large room with a giant screen. It’s a theater off to the back. They all have on their wireless headphones as they walk by us, moving toward that room like they’ve had drills just for the occasion. Just as they finish piling in, the intro to the movie starts and the door closes.

  “This is supposed to be a good night,” Violet tells us all. “And right now, you’re making it tense for all of them. Please. Go.”

  “Violet, we really need to—”

  “What, Vance? What do we need to do? Talk? Could have done that yesterday before I broke up with you. Or the day before that. Or the one before that. All you want to talk about is Idun, though. I tried talking about all this,” she says as she gestures around. “All any of you wanted to talk about was Idun. Even your ‘pillow talk’ turned into Idun talk.”

  She gives me a pointed look, and I finally realize why she rejected the quickie I tried to steal. It wasn’t because it was a quickie. It’s why I was making it one...

  I wish she wasn’t so damn tempting, when she’s prickly. Maybe not quite this prickly, but in general, it’s my favorite mood of hers.

  “Not once have you noticed the Michelangelo of five-month jobs. The ornate carvings on the bannisters, or hand-stitched draperies on all these massive windows—things done by all the people in here you walked right by on your way to watch Idun TV in their home.”

  Okay, now I’m starting to get worried that she really is breaking up with us. Anna props up beside her, grinning darkly at us.

  I don’t like that Anna is magically back. Far too suspicious timing.

  Not to mention…she’s a salt pile in a fucking urn.

  “Go,” Violet says again.

  “Violet, we need to be here if you are. If Idun—”

  “I’m not playing Idun’s games, and I’m tired of you trying to drag me into them. While you’ve all been sitting around waiting for her to act so you can react, I’ve been trying to finish my one purpose. The only reason I exist is because of them. That’s heavy, and you’re all watching TV while I do it alone.”

  Arion starts toward her, and she lifts a hand, eyes glistening again.

  “If you make me cry, I will hate you tonight. Don’t upset me, because I’ll set them off if I start crying. Please don’t do that to them or me. Not tonight,” she says again before turning and walking into the room that has a crying baby.

  Fuck’s sake. How much can possibly change in five months?

  “Set who off how?” Emit asks in a confused tone as he backs toward the door.

 
“You’ve missed a lot in the five months you’ve been standing still,” Marta adds happily, as she walks away with an I-won-the-lottery smile.

  “Five months isn’t generally a relatively long amount of time, is it?” Arion asks as he eyes the row of ornate chandeliers. The place actually looks a lot bigger…

  “Did Marta pay for all this fancy detailing?” I ask in some moderate admiration.

  “The Simpletons are craftsmen by nature,” Vance murmurs as he slides his hand over one very impressive door arch. “The money comes from the fact she only paid me eight hundred dollars for this place once she realized how much she’d have to spend on repairs,” he adds with a small smile, as he glances over something on his phone. “Hell, I never even bothered looking at that either,” he adds as that smile falls away, and he returns his attention to the fully finished—

  My thoughts and all else cut off when Avery opens the front door, and Zuela Van Helsing steps in.

  The air in the room gets sucked out. Apparently, so does everyone else who dared to loiter close by, since we’re all that remains.

  Lemon abruptly scurries by like hell is on her heels. Judging by the look on her face, she was far too distracted to know he’d arrived.

  She crouches and dives into the makeshift delivery room. Violet immediately pops back out, her eyes looking exhausted when they meet ours.

  “Really?” Anna says from behind us, scaring the fuck out of us. “I used to champion for you, but now I realize you’re all too obtuse to be sexy beasts,” she adds before anyone can say anything.

  “Coincidental her being here?” I ask aloud.

  “Not the biggest problem we have at current,” Vance says as he buttons his coat, watching Violet step right in front of his father.

  Zuela casts his eyes over us, rolling them like he’s ashamed.

  “What do you want, little Simpleton?” Zuela asks her dismissively.

  “What the hell are you doing in my town without phoning ahead?” Vance asks him.

  “I copied you on the invitation Ms. Carmine extended to him,” Avery whispers just barely loud enough to be heard. “You told me it’d be fine when I asked you about it, Sir Van Helsing.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Vance,” Arion snaps, glaring at Vance.

  “You signed over a very dangerous, unregistered, nightmarishly problematic shifter prisoner to her, so you shouldn’t be too riled,” I tell Arion, narrowing my eyes on him.

  The vampire hesitates, as though reason has actually rooted in his mind, as he mulls that over.

  Violet ignores all of us, and Zuela frowns as though he’s now confused.

  “I thought I was called in on matters regarding Idun,” Zuela cuts in. “It’s why I’m here.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I invited you here for me,” Violet says, as she walks him toward the center of the foyer and looks up.

  We all mimic her, mostly because we just want to look like we know what’s going on at this point. At least that’s why I do it.

  There’s a large skylight, and I let my eyes flutter shut, as my lips tighten, immediately discerning where she’s going with this. This day is going to be a bad fucking day at every turn.

  “I’m great at building glass,” Violet tells him. “But I’m not an artist, and I can’t make that glass as pretty as you can, Sir Van Helsing.”

  He eyes her, probably a little shocked that she titles him when addressing him.

  “What?” he asks her in an indignant tone, when the surprise quickly wears off and her alluded-to request presumably sinks in.

  “I want you to design a stained glass piece that will fit up there and steal your breath. I just made something to hold the place, because I didn’t want you to feel rushed. If you decide to take the job, that is,” she goes on, wording things as professionally as possible.

  Zuela snorts, and then outright laughs in her face.

  Vance’s fists form, but Violet just steps between them with subtle intention.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Violet says like she expected as much.

  “Hell no. I’m not putting one of my master pieces in a fucking Simpleton house. Even if I had no dignity and did it, it’d be wrecked the second Idun has a tantrum.”

  Violet nods and starts walking away.

  “That’s all then, sir. Sir Avery can take you back to your plane if you need him to,” she says like it’s no big deal, because she clearly already knew it was a long shot.

  “You had me bloody fly across an entire sea to ask me a question, girl? Do you not understand what a waste of alpha time that is?” he grinds out.

  Vance starts to speak, but Violet smiles broadly at Zuela, speaking before Vance can get a word in. “Sorry, Sir Van Helsing. It wouldn’t have been a waste of time if you’d said yes, but you didn’t.”

  My lips resist the urge to grin, before she walks back into the room with the baby once again, leaving Zuela turning forty shades of furious red. I do love that woman prickly.

  I really wish she wasn’t pointlessly trying to dump me right now. I’d reward her for that behavior.

  “So you’re her beta too?” Vance asks Avery like he’s somehow been disloyal.

  Avery shrugs a careless shoulder. “She’s going to need good, suicidal recruits to even stand a small chance here. The least I can do to support her cause is contribute some of my time to her efforts.”

  “I thought you were wiser than that, Avery,” Zuela chimes in. “The daft girl is just going to get you all killed, because no one here has the balls to tell her she’s too fucking stupid to lead. A fucking sanctuary for omegas? Are you kidding me?”

  Zuela walks out, and Vance leans against the wall, while I scrub a hand over my face.

  “I thought it’d take her at least five or six years to finish this place up,” Arion states, gesturing around. “Even with the technology of today.”

  “I’m going to see what Zuela’s noticed on Idun TV,” Vance states very quietly. “I suggest you all leave until Violet’s stopped being angry.”

  Something sparks against him, and Vance hisses out a breath, as he staggers forward, cursing the air like it’s shocked him.

  Anna’s still there, smiling like an evil prankster, as a little spark disappears from her fingertips.

  “Careful, boys. I’m a little more lucid now, and I find I like you all a lot less this way,” she informs us, before strutting off in the lacy underwear.

  “Cannon ball!” she shouts before racing through the movie room door.

  In a few minutes, all the Simpleton’s shout her name, and they all start singing some ghost song. Unreal.

  “Anna returns from an impossible death right around the time when Idun rises, and we’re just all going to ignore it. Cool. Makes sense,” I finally state, since I’m the only one who seems to have a motherfucking problem with Anna being alive. Well, not dead. Well, not dead for the second time.

  “My head is going to explode if one more thing happens today,” I note aloud.

  I start toward the door to decide which problem I want to tackle first.

  “Violet didn’t tell us about Anna, because she didn’t want us to make that about Idun too,” Vance tells me like he’s pointing it out for me.

  It takes a second for me to groan in realization. “Of course our first suspicion is Idun related. Everything is suspicious when Idun is alive. Are we just supposed to pretend it’s normal for a ghost to not be dead after final decay?”

  “Maybe she faked her death,” Emit inserts.

  We all blink at him, and he literally growls at us.

  “I’m trying to think of other things we should rule out long before we move toward any touchy Idun suspicions. Violet missed Anna, and now she has her back, and we all just got put on the curb like yesterday’s trash. I suggest doing the same fucking thing I am, unless you want to really piss her off,” he points out.

  It’s actually a good point.

  Damn mutt.

  “So what’s the plan t
o get Violet back, though?” Arion asks Vance. “Has someone said it and I just missed it because of the overwhelming amount of distractions around here?”

  Emit starts walking out. “I don’t need a plan. She and I were just friends, so she can’t really break up with me. My new goal is to make sure she agrees with that.”

  The bastard wolf just smirks as he leaves.

  “He was way behind, and now I think the prat just jumped to the front,” I say on an infuriated huff.

  I go invisible, and Arion’s hand grabs my shoulder while I’m supposed to be unable to be seen. I turn him invisible too, instead of arguing about it, shrouding us in illusion, as we quickly walk into the room everyone keeps hiding in.

  We both go still when we see the sleeping shifter in the bed, looking exhausted. Violet quietly rocks the small, very pale child that is swaddled securely in a blue blanket.

  I forget about everything else in the room as Violet smiles affectionately down at the child, kissing the babe’s head while she coos to it.

  It’s almost like looking at an entirely different woman who has been finding her footing without us. Marta simply watches her from a corner, eyes not searching us out, even though she surely smells us in here.

  A tiny hand emerges from the blanket, capturing Violet’s finger, and Marta’s eyes water, as Violet’s wide smile seems to actually double. I drop against the wall, eyes riveted, as Violet kisses the small, crinkled forehead of the squirming child.

  It takes me a while to realize the shifter’s eyes are on her, and I go rigid when I do. Until the shifter starts leaking tears.

  This day hasn’t made sense. Not once. Yesterday was boring and dull and predictable—everything I hate about most days. Today makes me miss yesterday.

  “You should keep him,” she whispers softly to Violet.

  Violet’s wide-eyed gaze swings toward the female like she’s off her rocker.

  “No, his mother should keep him. You’ll be safe here,” Violet is quick to counter. “He’s going to need his mother.”

  “I’m a target, and I’m as good as dead now that I’ve drawn so much attention to myself. Omegas should never draw attention to themselves for this very reason. We’re an easy complication to eradicate,” the mother says quietly, causing Arion to bristle when Violet’s jaw tics.