Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  The words he says doesn’t sound threatening, but the threat is clear: No one can hear us.

  I swallow against the instant lump in my throat.

  “There’s a loophole for alphas you should have considered, though, in regards to a great many of your rules. You see, once you invite the Head of a House into any House that’s been established with the same authority as an Alpha House, you legally extend such an invitation to all members of their alpha family. I suppose Vance should have been more involved, since Avery isn’t abridged on most of those tedious details, regarding alphas—”

  “What do you want?” I interrupt, my nervousness ratcheting up, as I fight down the urge to panic.

  I can’t panic and tear apart Damien’s brother. Also, what if Dorian destroys me? I have no idea what he’s capable of.

  His smile is so sinister that it immediately starts a flurry of warning bells in my head.

  “You’re a Neopry monster. By law, you’re a part of Idun’s House. Whether you’re registered or not, and regardless of having Portocale blood or not, you’re still regulated by Neopry law as much as you are Portocale law. And by Neopry law, your alpha has the right to loan your services out to another alpha. I hear you break curses, and I have one I desperately want broken.”

  I startle when he takes a quick step toward me, and his grin doubles as though it excites him.

  “I wonder if it works even without the curse in effect,” he says as he taps his chin, dramatically feigning deep thought.

  When his cold gaze returns to me, he winks.

  “By law, I’m allowed to use your body to set me free from a curse that prevents me from doing my duties to their fullest extent. Not even Sanctuary has a law to stop it.”

  His eyes rake over me very deliberately, as he pauses for dramatic suspense.

  “Turn around and put your hands on the desk. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Even if you later hate yourself for how much you’ll enjoy it. My brother will certainly hate you for loving every second of it,” he continues, his dark smile stretching wider.

  My knee slams up, prepared to collide with his balls, but I’m suddenly against the wall and he’s coming down on my back, wrenching my arm behind me so hard and fast that I cry out in surprise.

  “Scream for me, Violet Carmine. Nothing would please me more,” he whispers.

  My heartbeat starts to drop almost immediately, ready to release the monster, regardless of the consequences. But images are suddenly hammering through my mind, and a scream really does tear free from my throat, as thousands of knives start stabbing me from all directions, feeling so real it’s nearly unbearable.

  “You seem to be immune to seduction. Even untrained, your mind is surprisingly hard to manipulate. I’ve tried and failed with you before. See, you have this natural wall in place. I’m sure, once Damien properly fed a few times, and actually put forth some genuine effort, he wiggled his way through those cracks, because they’re easy to find. I needed more time, more privacy, and a proper feeding to break through. Prepare to feel the true, dominating, painful strength of a Morpheous,” he says against my ear. “Or enjoy every fucking second of it. Your choice.”

  My heartbeat won’t lower, because the knives keep making it pick up every time they stab, as though he fully prepared to keep it beating too fast.

  Damien. He can seduce me and do freaky things in my head, as well as to my body. Damien has more power over me than this, and I’ve fought him back before. Back when he didn’t feed much…

  The pain acts like a stimulant, halting any thoughts, and tears start leaking from my eyes when I start seeing visions of him undoing my clothes. The knives stab me again when I try to lower my heartbeat.

  “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in centuries,” he says around his laughter.

  The phantom knives stab me harder the next time, as the images of him undressing me continue.

  He jerks my head to the side, running his nose along my cheek, as the knives draw another scream out of me in a way not even Idun managed to do.

  Strings whir through the air, but I feel a phantom barrier blocking them from reaching me no matter how hard I strain.

  “I’m prepared for that as well, tricky gypsy girl. Now that I know all your tricks, I know how to be the perfect counter measure,” he assures me with a lot of pride. “I’m an alpha, sweetheart. Surely you know what that word means by now.”

  As the knives sting me again, forcing my heartbeat way up, I cry out in even more pain, feeling too much of it with such an active heartbeat.

  He gives me no reprieve between stabs, and smiles against my ear, as he tells me, “I can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.”

  Another scream tears free from my throat, as Dorian Gray manipulates my senses. The pain from thousands of blades that feel like they’re piercing my skin from the inside-out only intensifies the faster my heart beats in response.

  I can’t…I can’t make it stop. I can’t.

  It only hurts worse and worse, and tears spring from my eyes, as I struggle to call for my threads once again, desperately trying to rip the head off the snake so all the illusions stop.

  “I’m rather tired of the screaming now. Maybe you should be choking,” Dorian says with sadistic amusement.

  The taste of iron and copper fill my mouth, or at least it feels like it does.

  “You like vampires so much that one can only assume you’d be okay with choking on blood. Right?” he asks, laughing as my mind struggles to separate illusion from reality.

  “Damien is believed to be the strongest, but I’ve spent a great deal of years mastering the art of manipulating all five senses,” he boasts, just as another wave of blades stab me.

  I can’t even scream this time, because I’m gagging for every breath against the mouthfuls of blood that are drowning me.

  Clawing at my throat and gasping for a breath, fighting through the excruciating pain, as my heartbeat ratchets up, making each strike twice as miserable, I begin to panic.

  But not even my panic draws forth my monster. It’s the first time I’ve ever started panicking without the liberating relief of a faint.

  My heartbeat is too fast and refuses to drop even a little.

  I can’t see what’s really going on, because in my head, we’re in a roomful of mirrors. Dorian is now at the of the hallway, while I strip out of my clothes, baring my body for him.

  No!

  “That’s a good girl,” he tells me.

  My mind screams for relief, as I watch myself spread my legs in invitation, grinning at the devil I’d never really accept with such ease.

  “I’ll let my monster loose on you and see how resilient your lovely little body really is,” Dorian whispers in my ear and in the illusion, giving the words a surrounding-echo effect.

  This time, it feels like he’s added two thousand blades, and my heart rushes to a rhythm that leaves me more vulnerable, exposed, and powerless than I’ve ever felt in my life.

  “Please, no,” I manage to beg, only to choke on twice the amount of blood in the next painful, barely catchable breath.

  Chapter 2

  VANCE

  “I’ve already told you what you have to do in order for me to take you on as a beta,” Damien tells Talbot Lane, his new shadow, who seems to be popping up too frequently. “For now, I have an alpha meeting to attend. Idun is doing all she can to regain our attention, and this is just yet another stunt of hers we have to deal with.”

  Impromptu fucking alpha meetings? Idun is looking desperate by this point.

  She’s done all she could to lure us back into watching Idun TV, and since that hasn’t worked, now she’s resorted to this.

  Talbot takes a calming breath, bowing as if he’s conceding. For now. He’s certainly too persistent to give up. He almost stares after Damien longingly, as the deviant walks hastily toward us, genuinely incensed about this meeting.

  I’m incensed about the fact I have a pr
essing weight on my shoulders, as though I’m forgetting something important. A desire to return to Violet claws at my mind, and I blame it on the fact I was seconds away from being able to enjoy her again.

  Before Idun TV ruined our day.

  This morning started out so promising. All four of us had Violet in our clutches, and she was really considering taking all four of us. Then the bloody wolf and vampire got her all to themselves, because of the screaming omegas, who heard Idun’s threat.

  “I’ll be calling an alpha meeting with the Heads of all Houses to discuss reinstating trial-by-combat. Any alphas not in attendance will forfeit their right for input and will willingly sacrifice no less than thirty omegas in penalty. It’s within my right to request the Van Helsings uphold our laws, no matter how old they may be. To me, the law is still relevant. We’re monsters. We’re not mere mortals. I think it’s time we remember our roots, instead of catering to a greedy world that’s forgotten how to be humble. Trial by combat is just one of the many great reasons monsters are better than men. We settle our scores with the fairest, simplest survival rules—survival of the fittest.”

  Fucking cunning bitch. She’ll build her armies quickly enough with that speech. After centuries of living in hiding for fear of persecution for their many war crimes, shifters have gotten harder, more ruthless, and far more vindictive. Meanwhile, their ruthless, vindictive alpha left them to rot on their own, showing weakness for the first time. The strongest will always return to the flock, because they love the violence. They will fight until the death—always.

  “Instead of alphas duking it out over House disputes, why not let our betas have their chance at last? We’ll give you your voice with the combat trials. It won’t be for personal conflicts. It’ll be for your House!”

  She sounded on a roll, and just kept giving her scripted, sinisterly motivational speech. She’s always done this—used the fiercest, loudest people to push her agenda. Catering to bloodthirsty betas is her specialty.

  I genuinely thought we’d finally have the upper hand. But she’s coming out with a bigger bang than Arion did, at this rate. Violet won some hearts with her show of self-sacrifice and unwavering loyalty to protecting Sanctuary, but Idun wins every time when she incites the violent and vindictive.

  “Is it just me, or are there a lot more shifter scents in town today than we’ve smelled in too many centuries to count?” Emit asks very quietly, his eyes scanning the larger crowd during the summer off-season.

  “My nose aches from all their stenches, because it’s been centuries since I had to smell so many at once,” I state in agreement.

  “My nose aches from your obnoxious, ten-thousand-dollar cologne,” the uncultured wolf says, smelling like fur and sex.

  He’s not showing an ounce of shame about it either. This is who Violet chose above me? Above me?

  I’m still in trouble, and the wolf is mated to her already. Unbelievable.

  “Hurry up, Morpheous. We certainly don’t want to risk sacrificing omegas for an archaic law Idun is using against us,” I gripe toward the deviant, my incessant twitches increasing with each passing second, as the weight on my shoulders seems to double.

  What the hell is going on? What’s bothering me so much?

  “Is a hunt calling for you, Van Helsing?” Damien muses, idly glancing down at the mirror he pulls from his pocket—the one Violet gifted him.

  It really is the most extraordinary piece I’ve ever seen. The craftsmanship is of the finest in detail, and the mirror is still flawless, in spite of its age.

  She had that just lying around?

  Maybe I’m now overthinking everything, but since the niggling theory about Pandora inserting Violet to snag Idun’s attention away from the Simpletons, I can’t stop thinking about every single detail that’s made Violet very easily slide into all four of our lives. We overlooked how effortless it was to fall into step around her, because she somehow managed to become all our favorite things without even meaning to.

  “I’m not really certain what has me riled,” I admit, glancing around again. “I’ll figure it out once we deal with this bullshit charade. It’ll take less than five minutes to lay this to rest. It’s just a tactic to get under our skin.”

  “Are you trying to convince us of this or yourself?” Damien asks, but he seems distracted by the very antsy wolf.

  “Is it really that unbearable for you to be away from her even this long?” Arion asks the wolf, as though he’s truly fascinated by the concept.

  “No. I’ve had a good fill of her and should be fine. I’m not sure why I’m so desperate to return,” Emit confesses, staring uneasily back toward Sanctuary.

  I don’t know why he’s staring back. It’s not as though you can see anything but the tall bells from this part of town.

  “Maybe we should have told Violet about this,” Emit says as he starts back toward Sanctuary.

  I grab him at the elbow.

  “Don’t be a fool. Idun wants to return to settling disputes among Houses by having betas duke it out in combat trials. Demetria is an uncontested champion among all betas, which is why we put this law to bed when we buried Idun. We need to deal with this like alphas, instead of acting like boyfriends who wish to please their very soft girlfriend, and Violet will make that impossible,” I remind him. “Wait until it’s settled and we know what concessions we’re making before we discuss things with her.”

  Emit runs a hand through his long hair, seeming reluctant to do his job.

  “If being her mate is going to affect running your House, you’ll bring more trouble on her than you already have,” Arion tells him very seriously. “And I’m afraid that’s going to reignite my burning hatred for wolves, if that becomes an issue. Friendly warning, pup.”

  Emit cuts a glare toward him, and Damien steps between the both of them, rolling his eyes.

  “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all return to Violet. Get into a pissing contest, and we’ll be right back in trouble. You fucks go messing with my chances of returning to her good graces when I’m making so much progress, and I’ll leave you both impotent for a bloody year,” he threatens, smiling humorlessly at them. “After I feed a good bit and get that much power, that is.”

  He nods once, claps his hands together as though he’s effectively solved the tension between everyone, and starts marching toward the Van Helsing rings.

  “Even I feel the nearly uncontrollable urge to return her. Probably because I’m more desperate than ever to make her my Flame, now that I know she’s not opposed to marks marring her beautiful body. My mark is far more attractive than yours, mutt,” he adds, saying the words over his shoulder.

  Arion pauses behind him, glancing back toward Sanctuary as well.

  “Damn it. I don’t know if I can hold out a whole month. I should have said a week,” Arion states very randomly.

  I have no idea what that means, but Emit groans.

  “You really are insane,” the wolf grumbles on his way by, as we head inside the rings to find our seats.

  “Says the wolf who savagely claimed her while not even in the right frame of mind. She really does have a thing for our monsters, doesn’t she? Can I just turn mine loose on her and see what happens?” the lunatic bloodsucker presses.

  “No,” we all state in unison.

  “I hate voting when I never win,” Arion gripes, as he drops to his seat inside the arena like a sulking teen.

  We all shuffle the seating cards around so we can find four seats together, ignoring protocols, since it’s nothing more than a formality and not a rule.

  Idun steps up to the podium, wearing the most scandalous dress I’ve ever seen her wear in public. She gives a red-lipped smile in our direction, but we all cut our gazes toward the window when we hear the bells chiming from Sanctuary.

  Why in the hell does it bother me to be away from her right now?

  The wolf isn’t the only one distracted when the meeting starts.

&n
bsp; Chapter 3

  VIOLET

  “Does Damien have a favorite position he uses on you?” Dorian asks next to my ear.

  An image flashes through my head, and I cry out in pain, as it forces its way through every barrier I try to put up.

  It’s an image of a younger Damien, easily distinguishable by his incredibly unique features. His eyes are so full of life, as though he has the world in the palm of his hands.

  I have no idea what he’s saying, or why Dorian is in the background with his head hanging low.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re some daft breed who only speaks English. Let me give you the translated version,” Dorian says against my ear, a rumble of laughter following.

  The knives stab me as the vision restarts, and I choke on the blood when I try to scream.

  “Damien, I assume you’ve completed the last of your training.”

  “Of course I have, Father. I’m top of my class and have four of the wealthiest politicians eating from the palm of my hands. They have no idea I’m a proud gypsy man, either. The women are pouring into our newest brothel. Quality women. Not the type a man needs a shower after touching,” Damien says around a proud bout of laughter. “These are the women they’ll never forget. A Van Helsing would name a steed after women like these.”

  The older, bearded man claps Damien’s shoulder, pride gleaming in his eyes.

  “Good job. Our name will be too powerful soon enough, and we’ll crush anyone in our way without so much as lifting a finger,” his father adds.

  He sneers behind him toward Dorian, who is still keeping his head hung low, patiently holding a large trunk.

  “Go put the supplies in the carriage, boy. Do you need direction on how to do everything, or are you afraid you’ll cock that up as well?”

  Damien smirks in Dorian’s direction, as though he’s reveling in the fact he’s the favorite.

  Dorian never glances up.

  Their father’s attention returns to Damien, along with the pride that replaces the disdain he shared with Dorian.