Gypsy Freak

by Cunning, Kristy

  “What makes your omegas laugh like that?”

  I get a little worried… “Never anything good.”

  We stop just at the beginning of the next hallway, because at the very end is the double doors that open up to the Omega wing. The large room where the small pack sleeps is where they all are, including Ingrid, who always disappears around new people.

  Vance looks over at me, and I shrug, since two omegas are braiding Violet’s hairs with little flowers, and Violet is talking animatedly, and vaguely, about her journey to tonight’s excursion, apparently.

  Vance struggles with restraining a grin beside me when she talks a little too loudly about how she ended up wearing his sheet. I roll my eyes.

  “I expected her to be curled in a corner and crying or something,” he muses. “Very impressive rebound from tonight.”

  “They think she’s going to be my damn girlfriend or some shit, because they’re being way too nice to her.”

  His grin falls away. “She’s wearing my scent all over her, and they think she’s going to be yours?”

  This time, I’m the one to battle a grin. “They have faith in their alpha, unlike some people I know.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Violet saw them pawing at you, and she’s made friends. Which clearly means she doesn’t feel threatened, since she has no interest in you whatsoever. I think their faith is misplaced.”

  “I’m getting ready to bruise up the other side of your face.”

  “Violet enjoyed herself, despite the bruising,” he chirps.

  I snort derisively. “Only because my size intimidates her. I heard what that ghost said. Something about me crushing her, though I had no idea why she was talking about it at the time. I bet it took you like two seconds to embarrass yourself. Clearly she wasn’t overly enchanted, since she came to Arion’s with Damien’s jacket on.”

  “Damien stalked her home. And that ghost’s name is Anna. Quite charming…when not suffering the side effects of the final decay.” His lips thin on that. “She’s notably missing.”

  “If she possessed Violet to ride around on you—which, by the way, is the only reason you got her in bed before me—then of course she’s missing. She’s a pile of salt. She was too close to the end.”

  He runs a hand over the back of his neck, and his look softens, as Violet continues to make friends with all the omegas who made camp in my house a few years ago.

  “She paused her grieving and followed Damien there tonight. Willingly. She interceded on your behalf without even remembering why Arion is such a threat. Somehow, she managed to remember it all, and still stepped in between the two of you when she thought he’d kill you, and trusted he would spare her. And all you likely did was growl at her after all that,” he says, making me feel like I really am an imbecile, as I exhale harshly.

  Without another word, he walks to the end of the hallway. Ingrid practically scurries into the side panel, never wanting to be out when a Van Helsing is close.

  All the women snarl at him when he bends to Violet. He doesn’t react, but Violet startles at their sounds.

  One by one, they all hug her like she’s going to war or some shit, and Ingrid even scuttles back out, hugs her quickly, and launches herself back into the walls.

  Still, that action alone means they’ve really taken to her much too fast. Violet’s like one of those tempting damn traps that somehow sneaks up on you, and we’re all getting sucked in. At least that’s how it feels.

  She lets Vance guide her down the hallway, and she gives me a quick, tight smile, before practically hurrying by me in clothes that really don’t fit her at all.

  She even pulls Damien’s jacket tighter around her as she goes, like it’s giving her a dose of security. Damien. Damien fucking Morpheous is ranking higher than me to her?

  Unbelievable.

  Vance slows as Violet walks on ahead, and he’s smirking for some reason. “They really do act like she’s going to be yours,” he says as though now he finds this amusing rather than insulting.

  “She may very well be,” I say just to fuck with him, and also because I hate the fact she really did step in tonight, even though I could see the fear in her eyes.

  That took guts or stupidity. I’m not sure which.

  It renews the interest I keep trying to snuff out.

  “She could barely meet your eyes,” he goes on, still amused. “The funny thing is, now that they like her and want her to be your girlfriend, you won’t be getting laid anymore.”

  He claps me hard on my aching, gnarled shoulder, and I inwardly groan.

  “All their attention will move to her. Clever girls, those,” he says as parting words, as he walks on out.

  My head drops back as I stare up at the ceiling. Even Arion has a fucking date with her tomorrow. She’s coming over in Vance’s sheet and Damien’s jacket. I actually feel fucking left out.

  “Great. Now I’m also the immature one,” I mutter to myself as I turn and head away from the omega wing.

  This day is complete shit.

  I head back to bleeding room and lie back on the tile, staring up at the ceiling once again. There, I watch the wolves who would have never put me in this situation, as they dance around the poisoned tree that led me down this regretful road.

  Sometimes I need to remember.

  Before I do things I’ll torture myself for later.

  Like rip out the throats of every beta who challenged me tonight and sent me running headfirst into a fight I wasn’t ready to face just yet.

  Chapter 11

  VIOLET

  I’m tiptoeing down the stairs, as the horrible sawing continues just outside my window. Dad apparently didn’t bother waiting until I woke up or even had more than two hours of sleep before going to work.

  Now I just sound whiny.

  Angrily, I start the coffee and take a deep breath as I focus on the fact Dad is actually here. For once, I was the one who bailed on him and still haven’t explained why in the hell I was coming home dressed like I’d been stuck in a dryer with the too-tight, too-small clothing…after wearing a sheet before that.

  Hopefully, he’s in his usual stoic mood today.

  “I bet it sucked having him for a father when you were little,” Damien says too close from behind me, and I scream as I jump.

  I whirl around, finding him at the kitchen doorway, a grin on his face as he props up there.

  “Do I even want to know how long you’ve been here?”

  “I can’t read minds, Violet. At least not without touching you first,” he adds, his grin only growing.

  The sawing stops, and he disappears seconds before the back door swings open. Dad barely glances in my direction before going to pour himself some coffee into his thermos.

  “Damn cold out there, but I didn’t want more sawdust in your house than necessary,” he grumbles.

  “Thanks for that,” I state flatly.

  Damien snorts, and I try not to throttle him as my father looks over his shoulder at me, frowning.

  “I was being nice,” Dad defends. “We can talk about what you were wearing last night later.”

  I try not to turn around and knee Damien in the nuts when I feel a hand squeeze my ass.

  I’m surrounded by barbarians.

  And I’m a horrible person for feeling a single flutter in my stomach, because that makes it sound like I secretly like it. Though…I am starting to wonder. I should have run long ago if I really wanted out.

  I can’t help but be curious if this is where I truly belong. Surrounded by harmless looking deadly things. And possible freedom from the cult has me reanalyzing my situation minute by minute.

  I could actually have a home here instead of staying a nomad and moving every year or two.

  So long as the psychotically creepy-romantic vampire alpha doesn’t kill me tonight on our date…that I have to keep in order to spare a bunch of wolves…that could possibly trigger another war…

  Awesome.

/>   Aside from that—

  “Violet, are you even listening to me?” my dad asks, causing me to blink out of my thoughts.

  “Sorry. No.”

  He sighs. “I do that too. I guess it’d be hypocritical to be mad at you for that,” he adds. “I’m sorry about just showing up without calling you too. I know it’s unfair.”

  “That actually makes me feel a little better. Especially since I have to go somewhere tonight. I feel wrong for just leaving again, but at least I’m giving you a head’s up.”

  He nods as he looks away.

  “So the town is okay?” he asks.

  “I possibly made some new friends last night,” I go on, smiling as I feel a little lighter.

  He just smiles back and nods. “I need to get back to that sawing while the sun is out. I haven’t heard a single correct weather prediction since I made it to town.”

  “It’s the ghosts,” I tell him, circling my finger in the air.

  He nods like it makes all the sense in the world and turns and walks out.

  The second the door shuts, Damien appears from across from me with a horrified expression on his face.

  “What?” I ask a little defensively.

  “What the hell kind of life have you lived? I’m sorry about just dropping into your life after being gone and a total douche codger,” he says, mocking my father’s voice. Then he continues, mocking a girly tone this time, “Oh, it’s okay, because I made friends, Daddy.”

  I glare at him.

  He shoots me an incredulous look. “Throw something. Yell at him a little. Tell him how you really feel. Have a tantrum. Be—”

  “Five?” I supply dryly. “Sorry. I have twenty years of maturity in front of that number. How old did you say you are?”

  This time, he’s the one to glare.

  I’m the one to shoot him a look. Mine’s more of a smartass look.

  “You were grinning like you had new girl-crushes, and he grinned right back at you. It’s disgustingly nice and all the other fake things that give me a headache,” he drones on.

  “It’s not fake if it’s sincere,” I point out as I go to pour my own coffee.

  Dad swings open the door, and I know Damien has vanished, because Dad doesn’t ask any questions.

  “Forgot my tape,” Dad says from behind me before the door shuts behind him on his way out again.

  “Puh-lease. Like any of that was sincere. I heard how sad you were that night after you got off the phone with him. Before you forgot all that,” Damien continues, tacking that last part on like he’s expecting me to have forgotten again.

  “How much do you watch me?”

  “What else am I going to do with my time?” he asks me on an exasperated sigh. “Every time I look away, you’re disappearing for days, killing vampires, or shagging Vance in my bedroom.”

  “You weren’t looking away on that last part,” I remind him.

  He grins as he waggles his eyebrows. “Certainly not. Your face is far more beautiful when you stop being so serious. Which is surprising, since you already have a very distracting face. The body is just my speed as well.”

  “My father is just outside,” I remind him very quietly, as his grin only grows.

  “And kinky. Well, I think we have a winner,” he says as he hops off the counter, more mischief than menace in his eyes.

  He’s in front of me and behind me, and all around me in the next instant when I see seven of him instead of one.

  It also feels like I have seven sets of hands all touching me at once when he pulls me to one of him and leans down in my ear, the weight of the other bodies pressing in, which should be impossible.

  His lips ghost mine as the illusion vanishes. It takes a second longer for the phantom touches to also disappear.

  My eyes slowly blink open when I feel him backing away, and I make sure I’m steady before I prepare to slap him. Only to stop short and leap practically into his arms when I see something with fur scurry by.

  A shriek leaves me, and Damien grabs me at the waist, pulling me to him as his eyebrows bounce up in surprise.

  Another shock of black fur catches my eyes, and I shriek again.

  The sawing stops abruptly, and Damien tosses me onto the counter before vanishing, just as the door swings open.

  I gawk across from me at the black cat on the table who is licking its paw.

  “How did a cat get in here? If a cat can get in here, what the hell else is in here?” I shout, looking for Damien, and then remember…my father.

  Dad pulls off his hardhat to scratch his head. “Maybe…it came in before I patched the roof. I thought I heard something making meowing sounds last night, but you were acting odd enough that I passed it off as you.”

  Damien snorts with humor this time, and I feel him shaking with silent laughter next to me.

  Dad turns and frowns at me again as I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t that odd. I was just tired. And I don’t meow. Do I have mice? Are there other rodents besides mice that come inside? Or snakes? What made the feral cat claim this as a hunting ground?”

  “I’ll check it out. I’m going to be in and out all day, so don’t stick around on my account. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished up for the day. Maybe I’ll still be up when you get home from whatever it is you have tonight.”

  Damien nudges me, but I’m busy watching the cat dart out, relieved it’s gone.

  “I have no idea what time it will be,” I say to Dad, grimacing.

  Damien starts silently shaking again.

  I really miss Anna.

  Speaking of which…

  I hop off the counter as Dad heads back out. Again. It really feels awkward having him here. In Mom’s house.

  The urn is right where I left it, and I pick it up, carrying it upstairs.

  “I thought your mother was buried,” Damien calls from just behind me when I reach the inside of my room.

  I was hoping he wouldn’t follow.

  “This is Anna. I have to put her in a bunch of my salt balls, per her final request. And I’m going to do it at your house, since you’re clearly determined to stalk me today and I don’t want to be in a house a cat can break into,” I go on.

  “My house is wrecked, thanks to Vance. Be sure to bring thick-soled shoes.”

  I pause, canting my head. “Actually, I know a better place I can go, and maybe even get away from you too,” I say as I stand, my smile forming.

  Chapter 12

  EMIT

  I’m not sure what to think when I come home from my run and smell the telltale scent of Portocale oranges.

  I do know that I want to break a jaw when I see Damien sulking at my counter and eating one of the oranges that are spilling out of the large bowl on the counter.

  “What the hell?” I ask, seriously confused.

  “Violet said half of these are mine, so fuck off. I drove her over here, and got tired of hearing your omegas talk you up hours ago. They didn’t even acknowledge me standing there. I think Violet’s the only one who even noticed I left the damn room when she tossed me a pity conversation-starter that I promptly ignored. I remember when women used to clamber over each other just to be close to me and hope I might spare them a simple glance.”

  He releases a long, frustrated sigh, before popping another orange slice into his mouth.

  I scrub a hand over my face. “Exactly half. If you try to take one more than that, I’ll cut off your—” I stop talking when I notice the oranges have not even a single bruise on them.

  “Despite her current circumstances, she’s not a bitter girl, that Violet,” Damien says like he’s taken notice of where my attention has returned. “Funnily enough, neither are her oranges.”

  I toss aside my keys and phone and move to the counter, studying the bowl a little less hungrily and a little more appreciatively.

  They’re flawless.

  “Maybe that’s why Marta Portocale didn’t tell her daughter the same story that would have made her a
s bitter as every other Portocale gypsy.”

  “Maybe Violet will be the first Portocale gypsy to listen to our side of things,” he surmises.

  “Even hearing our side won’t change the truth of what happened,” I remind him very quietly, since it’s clear she must be here, probably in the omega wing, if I had to hazard a guess.

  “From what I’ve gathered during the time I could stomach listening to your omegas exaggerate every good thing about you, Violet is going tonight to try to talk Arion into some deal with real peace between you two. It’s cute how she thinks life is simply that simple. The omegas adore her just for trying to give it a shot.”

  He flicks an orange peel away after he licks it clean like he’s the wolf.

  “The only good part of all this is that I now know you’ll never again get laid by those wolves, no matter how much they praise you to Violet. They’ve not just picked out a girlfriend; they’ve picked you out a mate.”

  I glare at him, and he just grins, never meeting my eyes.

  “Too bad I’m way out ahead of you,” he adds.

  “I’d say Vance is winning, if this is a sprint instead of a marathon,” I tell him, still not even sure if I actually want her or if I just want her long enough to piss them all off.

  “Vance lucked into his moment and failed to follow-through with charming stalkery. She’s leaving a window open for me at night now.”

  I roll my eyes as I start heading toward the omega wing.

  Sure enough, I spot Violet, but I slow my steps when she walks out in a really nice, long, black dress.

  She stumbles when she sees me. “Sorry. I know I really shouldn’t be here tonight of all nights, considering your deal with Arion, but they swore it was okay.”

  Fay nods enthusiastically, which is weird, since she has no enthusiasm. Ever.

  I don’t like this. They like her far too much.

  They’re already treating her too much like pack, and Violet is very mortal, fragile, and not at all pack.

  “I didn’t realize it was a formal thing, so I’m really glad I stopped by. I left oranges, since now I know they’re sort of a big deal. It’s a gift for—”