Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6)

by Kristy Cunning

  He turns and starts walking back in the other direction.

  “I’ll be spending some time here. Contest me all you want,” he says without turning around. “But I’ll be gaining an audience with Violet to find out if she’s the good-hearted monster she claims to be.”

  He turns around, almost amused for a minute. The amusement fades to bitterness once more.

  “If she is, she surely won’t mind taking the torch from Caroline. Idun can’t live without someone to belittle, hate, and utterly destroy both inside and out. It’s what she lives for. It’s only fair that it’s your turn to watch. Especially since you no longer have a curse to keep you humble enough to remember your self-imposed purpose.”

  With that, he turns and disappears down the adjacent hallway, while I turn to Emit.

  “Find the bloody library. Clearly I don’t know my way around, and I’ve got to hurry up and go humble a bitch who has ruled even from her centuries-old grave,” I grind out.

  Anna pops up.

  “It’s not that big of an emergency. Tell me more about this humbling you’re going to deliver. Seems important,” Anna says, sounding far too intrigued not to seem suspicious.

  “Where the hell is the library?” I demand.

  “All these Portocales are popping up dead. This secret cult is really just shifters and some mortals who aspired to be shifters, all for the sake of the Forsaken—also known as Idun—who’ve they’ve led too many to believe is an all-powerful deity. They’ve made her legendary in the underground parts of this world no one ever really talks about,” she points out, still being terribly suspicious and detailed.

  “There’s speculation—wall whispers from some of the ones in the know—that the Portocales weren’t strong enough to curse Idun. There’s more speculation that Idun has rules she expects her betas to break any time she’s absent. They built cults just to kill as many Portocales as possible and make your lives pure hell as often as they could,” Anna continues, stating the obvious for no reason at all.

  She levels me with a look.

  “Arion’s people are all vicious and cold, but somewhat darkly charming. Or straight up frigid. Vampires are a type, and there aren’t many exceptions.”

  “Why the actual fuck are you on about this?” I ask, finally acknowledging her.

  “Because a thought just occurred to me,” she says, frowning as she vanishes.

  “Where the bloody hell is the library?!” I shout, honestly struck by how massive this place truly is.

  “I genuinely can’t catch a single scent. This place changes too much. I don’t think I like it,” Emit says, hands on his hips like his posing is going to help at all right now.

  “Damien!” Violet calls, giving me some sort of direction.

  I race into a room…and suddenly I’m flying. Or sailing. Or…why is the world tilting? The room blurs by me as I tip backwards, and it takes too long to realize I’ve been bested by a skateboard.

  The unforgiving, thick marble jars my entire body when I hit the ground. Damn that woman for her reinforced flooring meant to withstand a herd of elephants, apparently.

  Groaning, I blink around the blurriness, as Emit curses and scuffles with something somewhere else in the room.

  “Fucking get up and help me!” he growls, while I struggle to push myself up.

  I glare at the marble floor that doesn’t have so much as one scratch on it. Is she trying to make falling harder on people?

  My eyes dart across the toy-littered floor, full of many other skateboards, balls, and various other objects meant to trip a man up, as though this room is designed to kill you with fun things.

  Emit is drowning in a foam pit, his head bursting over the top for a few seconds, long enough to curse me, before disappearing under the foam again.

  I scratch my head, deciding I’ll just fall in and look as ridiculous as he does, and then we’ll both look stupid.

  Instead, I leave him behind, wondering if he’ll ever be taken very seriously if he keeps making a fool of himself.

  I startle and damn near jump a foot in the air, when four female ghosts abruptly appear and stare at me from the end of the hall. One is wearing an old-school mechanic’s outfit with her hair and make-up done like a fifties pin-up girl.

  In fact, they all look like pin-up girls. There’s also a flight attendant, a pilot, and a welder. I’m not sure those specific jobs require such sexy takes on the outfits.

  Shaking my head out of the distraction, I keep walking toward them, annoyed that I once again made eye contact. Violet’s a bad influence when it comes to ghosts.

  The mechanic with a tag that reads, “Diva,” steps into my path, but I pass through her with nary a blink.

  “I take it personally that you just ignored me! I’m totally hot!” she oddly calls after me.

  Violet collects some of the most lively/delusional ghosts on the market.

  Turning into the room, I find Violet on her knees in front of Vance, who is sleeping.

  My grin curves up at one corner of my mouth, as I really look her over. Her hair is still in some disarray, and her clothes are unchanged. She looks just as thoroughly sated as she did when I left, minus the look of sexy determination on her face.

  If I wasn’t filled to the brim with power right now, I’d take advantage of her. She’s absolutely—

  “Damien, he’s under the curse. The Portocale curse,” she tells me, as though I haven’t already deduced as much.

  “This was the emergency?” I guess, distracted by the heavy rise and fall of her chest.

  She cuts her gaze toward me, and I steel myself, wondering what those troubled eyes could be warning me about. Her lips start moving, the seriousness in her expression ratcheting up some tension.

  What have I done?

  How have I fucked up?

  “Damien, I need your help,” she tells me, confusing me.

  I’ve been standing here in dread, worrying I’ve gone and fucked up once more, and she needs help?

  “Okaaay,” I say, dragging the word out, and then clear my throat.

  The nervous energy I’ve collected from that moment of melodramatic dread is now racing through me with nowhere to go.

  However, her next words give that nervous energy an outlet. Fuck’s sake, this girl…

  Chapter 13

  ARION

  “If I hadn’t been there, you’d have never gotten out of that pit—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Emit interrupts on a deep growl, his ears red and his canines bared.

  I resist the urge to grin, but then get distracted by the sound of Damien’s loud, hysterical, damned baffling laughter.

  Just as we start to dash in that direction, a ghost pops up in front of us, pin-curls held back by a bright orange headband of some sort, and a devious grin.

  “I’m Diva,” she says, before batting her lashes at me.

  Ghosts are brazen around Violet. And far too alert.

  I walk through her, and Emit follows, muttering something about not making eye contact.

  “I said I’m Diva, bitch! Stop ignoring me!” she calls to our backs.

  Idly, I notice quite a few new ghosts lurking. Most of them are women. Some of them are girly women. Some are a bit less feminine. Some are right in the middle of the masculine/feminine line.

  Something for everyone, it seems.

  “I feel like I’m missing something. Is she extending Sanctuary to the dead as well?” Emit asks.

  “Why not? She makes the rules up as she goes,” I mutter, smirking when I spot our high-maintenance little monster glaring daggers at Damien.

  Damien is still cackling like I’ve never seen him cackle before. My gaze bounces between them, as my smirk fades, because I’m in the dark. Again. I can’t even hazard an educated guess about what’s lit her fuse, while leaving him in a fit of laughter.

  “What’d we miss?” Emit asks, fortunately just as in the dark as I am.

  Damien heaves for a breat
h of air, working hard to answer through his guffaws, but only manages to wheeze out two words, before he’s cackling once more.

  “I think I know a way to break Vance’s curse, but I need Damien’s help. However, it seems like he’d rather laugh about something he’s not even willing to try—”

  “She wants me to transport her conscious into Vance’s unconscious mind, so she can enact her plan,” he says, barely straining the words out, his face turning red with the effort.

  His laughter erupts in a loud, obnoxious sort of way I haven’t heard him do in years.

  My eyebrows lift in surprise, since the little monster clearly overestimates Damien. No one ever overestimates Damien. If anything, it’s quite the opposite, in most cases.

  I glance at the clock, seeing the encroaching midnight hour. This could be the trick to getting Damien to stand down, instead of charging in to go after Idun. She’d kill Damien just for his audacity, and that would devastate Violet.

  Clearly, I don’t overestimate Damien.

  “There are very restrictive boundaries to what Damien can and can’t accomplish. His power is extremely limited,” Emit tries to explain, as I study the determined look on Violet’s face.

  We never fare well when she’s wearing that look. We really have spoiled her by giving in to all her many demands.

  “What’s your plan, Violet?” I ask, talking over Damien’s laughter.

  She cuts her gaze to me, almost surprised to hear that asked.

  “I go in and let him save me. Simple as that,” she states with absolute genuineness.

  My lips twitch, but I resist the urge to smile.

  “Simple as that,” Damien echoes through his laughter.

  Running a hand over my jaw, I watch as Violet gingerly strokes Vance’s cheek, even as she resumes glaring at Damien.

  “The best he could do is project your image into Vance’s unconscious mind, but that won’t be enough to shake him from the trance. He’s actually living those memories. Not just watching them play out,” Emit explains. “Even if by some miracle he managed to notice you, he’d never know who you are, and it’d likely only confuse him until the curse pulled him back into the trance. There’s no miracle cure in that route.”

  “Hence the reason I want him to transport my conscious mind, just like he did when he entered my mind after…” Violet’s words trail off.

  After Dorian’s attack. I assume that’s what she was going to say.

  I’m still in the dark about some of those details, because it makes me want to stab something with something worse than a volatile pencil when I think too much about it. I’m not ready for too many answers on that just yet.

  Damien sobers almost too quickly.

  As Damien’s laughter tapers off, I give him my attention. “Out of all the centuries you’ve lived, you’ve surely given thought to how to do something like this before.”

  He turns his eyes on me like I’m suddenly a fool tosser.

  “Of course I have,” he confesses, rolling his eyes. “And I determined I was crazy for ever having even considered the concept, because it takes all my strength just for me to fully enter an unconscious mind. Breaking into Dorian’s conscious mind depleted me from a full charge. Breaking into Vance’s mind, while he’s stuck in a trance, will take all I have. I certainly can’t take another active, conscious mind with me.”

  Emit strokes his beard, just as the clock begins to chime, announcing the midnight hour.

  “I need to handle something I can actually do,” Damien says, eyes on the clock.

  “Nothing is more important than Vance. You’re the strongest you’ve ever been right now. All the stars have aligned for you to make this happen for him.”

  “Emit claimed you as a mate, and he’s vertical instead of horizontal and in agony—”

  “But Vance can’t even offer a beta immortality; only an extension of their lives. A shallow attachment, just like his sacrifice. He can’t do something impossible on a cosmic level, because he can’t claim me so permanently as you just did. Something I currently have a pin in, but really, in a crazy sort of way, am excited about,” she says, adding that last part in a tone much softer.

  Morpheous damn near melts as he sways toward her, lips catching hers almost too roughly, and her arms go to his shoulders, as she draws him closer.

  I’m going to make this girl my bride, and then I’m setting my sights on our lad. It’d be any omegas dream to have their child raised by alphas.

  She shoves at his chest, and he groans as he breaks the kiss.

  “Please try,” she whispers so softly.

  “Do it, Morpheous. At least give Vance his shot,” I chime in, my eyes on Violet, when she cuts her gaze to me in surprise.

  He narrows his eyes over at me, something I only notice in my peripheral as I get more comfortable.

  “For once, just give her what she wants without a fight,” I add, training my gaze on Damien.

  I’ve boxed him in now, giving him no choice but to royally piss her off, break her heart, and end up in trouble, or use all that extra power on Vance instead of his suicidal mission against Idun.

  Violet’s heart will be crushed if he dies.

  I’ll not allow it.

  “Lie down. Head to head with him. If this is going to even stand a chance at working, I need the linked minds to be as close as possible,” Damien tells her after a beat of silence, though he grinds his jaw and glares at me in a way that suggests betrayal.

  He’s going to punish me for this one.

  I grin in anticipation.

  Violet immediately complies, crawling on top of Vance, who is on the sofa. She snuggles up on his chest, putting her head on the pillow directly beside his.

  She turns his face toward her and touches their foreheads together, looking all too cozy.

  Damien turns, exhales, and puts his hands on both of their heads, kneeling on the floor in front of them.

  Violet’s body almost immediately goes limp, and Emit moves closer.

  Slowly, I stand, my gaze flicking to the mirror in front of Damien. His expression is almost surprised, and then frustrated, and then really pissed off. Then he looks downright horrified.

  His pupils are nearly nothing, meaning he’s definitely gone full dive.

  Violet’s body is far too limp.

  It’s not usually like this when he attempts to dive. It’s been a while since he did it so often and so invasively, due to lack of feeding, but I’d remember this if he’d ever been guilty of it before.

  “This is getting concerning,” Emit states with some worry.

  Violet’s face stays relaxed.

  Damien’s distorts in a multitude of ways. His expressions change so frequently and so intensely that it really is alarming, even to me.

  “I take it back. This is a terrible and reckless idea. Make it stop, Morpheous!” I shout.

  He’s clearly in so deep that he can’t hear us, which is understandable, since it’s Vance’s fucking mind.

  Seriously, why did I think this was a better option than him getting murdered by Idun.

  “Emit, stop letting me make decisions so easily. Every once and a bit, fucking argue with me,” I grind out, glaring at the pointless mutt, who is clearly letting me away with too much.

  This is all his fault. If she’s not okay, I’m kicking his ass until he can’t breathe.

  Damien sucks in a sharp breath, just as Emit’s mid-stalk toward me, fist pulling back, and eyes wild with fury, as though he’s under the impression this is somehow my fault.

  We both immediately turn to where Morpheous is blinking, and then he glares down at Violet.

  “What the hell is going on?” Emit demands, turning that anger on Damien, where it belongs.

  “The vampire backed me into a shite corner, and I didn’t think this was actually possible, but…it fucking worked. Too well, in fact,” he growls, glancing at the clock.

  “Why is Violet limp?” Emit says, going to shake her sho
ulder. “What do you mean it worked too well?”

  Damien staggers back, almost appearing dizzy, as he blinks at the clock a few times.

  “We were in there for at least several hours arguing, but the clock says only two minutes have passed,” Damien states as if it’s of some importance.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” I bark.

  Violet’s body stays so slack she’s practically draped over Vance.

  “I managed to sync the links, even though it damn near made my head explode,” he carries on, as a single drop of blood drips from his nose. “Then…”

  He pauses, his eyes narrowing on her as if he’s both angry and terrified.

  “Then what?” I demand.

  “She walked right through without a barrier, because Vance certainly hasn’t ever had to shield his mind from her before. I hadn’t thought that part through. I couldn’t breach it after using that much power so forcefully and abruptly just to thread the links together.”

  “That sounds really undoable when you talk like that,” Emit snaps, taking several aggressive steps toward Damien.

  “I didn’t expect it to work!” Damien shouts, eyes wild as he whirls around. “She’s too stubborn to listen to any-fucking-thing when she’s on a mission! She broke through and went on without me. She’s in there until she finds a way to magically break his trance, and then manages to find a way to magically get herself in danger inside memories that can’t harm her, or she’s stuck in there until the curse ends, he wakes, and forces her out of his mind.”

  Emit turns and snarls at me.

  “I’ve never once been in charge of this shit show. Why is everyone suddenly letting me win arguments?” I ask, reminding them both who is really at fault for this mess.

  Emit takes a menacing step toward me.

  Violet makes a sound in her throat, and I watch as her expression changes for the first time.

  Misery. Horrified, undeniable misery.

  I sag to my knees, feeling the wind suck right the hell out of my lungs with a violent vacuum force.