Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5)

Home > Other > Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5) > Page 8
Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters Book 5) Page 8

by Kristy Cunning


  I was sort of hoping they made her look more flawless than she is in real life. If anything, she’s possibly more stunning than I realized. Even the death windows haven’t done her beauty justice.

  He draws his sword as he releases me, and steps in front of me as he says, “Step inside.”

  If she’s stronger than Vance, she’s going to murder Avery.

  “You step inside. I can’t die, Sir Avery,” I counter.

  He gives me a look that suggests I may have sprouted an extra appendage right out of my forehead.

  All his knights quickly move in front of us, taking a defensive stance. It’s drawing all kinds of attention from townsfolk who wonder why ninja soldiers are preparing for battle in front of a dilapidating hotel.

  I’ve just realized I have to make sense of this place for humans…

  Yeah, I’m putting a pin in that, since that’s going to take some thinking.

  Idun stares for a moment longer, and I finally start ushering the knights back inside.

  “In. In. In. We have more important things to do, and she’s not our problem,” I tell them.

  The hair on my neck stays raised, even as I pointedly ignore her and head back inside.

  “She’s not going to attack,” I tell the empty hotel full of people, who’ve taken refuge inside the walls. “Mostly because it’s too predictable, and from what I’ve heard on numerous occasions, she’s not predictable.”

  Leiza peeks out from behind the old counter, fully trembling, as her almost wolf-pupiled eyes meet mine, as if simply sensing Idun’s power is that terrifying.

  Shera drops to my side from above, now fully dressed in her own form-fitting tactical gear that looks a little Selene-from-Underworld-ish.

  She’s clutching two things that look like bombs.

  “Really?” I ask, restraining a smile as I glance over the tight-fitted leather, and she cuts her gaze to me.

  “Not the time for jokes, Violet. She’s—”

  “—irrelevant to me,” I interrupt, finishing the sentence for her. “She’s not my problem. She won’t be a problem for anyone here,” I remind her, as I head to the back of the hotel, finding Dad to be the only one undisturbed, as he takes some measurements. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Tires squeal and a horn honks somewhere outside.

  “You can be anything but naïve, Violet. Closing your eyes doesn’t make the problem go away,” Shera calls to my back, but I flip her off as I keep walking. “She’s our worst problem,” she tacks on like she’s trying to make me understand.

  Without turning around, I start helping Dad by writing down the measurements as he calls them out, only saying, “I’m sure the guys are already on their way by now. She’s clearly very much their problem.”

  “Can you run upstairs to the third floor and grab my toolbox?” Dad asks me, as he gets on the floor and starts doing something with the unsalvageable tile.

  No one acknowledges us, since most everyone is hiding, and Shera’s still waiting behind the line of defense the Van Helsing knights will offer, like she’s the last line of defense for me.

  I roll my eyes as I head up the stairs, wondering why he couldn’t have left his toolbox on the first floor instead of the third. This is really a lot of stairs.

  “And go grab my specs from the fifth floor,” Dad calls again, his voice easily carrying. “I’m going to have my guy come out and make blueprints happen.”

  “The fifth floor?” I yell over the edge of the third floor balcony, shaking my head. “Really?”

  He shrugs unapologetically, resuming his tile examination directly after.

  Until I reach the top floor, I don’t realize the stupidity of lugging the heavy toolbox up the stairs, when I have to lug it right back down after I grab whatever specs are.

  “Room five-oh-eight,” he specifies.

  “Stop announcing her location in here step by step,” Shera hisses.

  “Found them,” I shout back down when I find his chicken scratch on yellow legal paper.

  In the corner, next to the words Blueprint Guy, is a very familiar phone number. I glare at the number, because my Dad is being extra passive aggressive if this is really still Jerome’s number. My ex surely can’t be his blueprint guy. That would currently be very, very bad.

  I pause as a breeze rolls through the broken window, chilling me more than it should. I turn, and my breath freezes in my lungs as my eyes land on someone who really shouldn’t be here.

  “What’s wrong, Violet?” Anna asks very quietly, smirking. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her head tilts to the other side as I just gape at her. “You’re the one who told me to find a way back.”

  Everything tumbles from my hands at once.

  As I stumble back a step, she grins and adds, “Looks like things are finally getting interesting around here. And you kept a lot of secrets from me.”

  Anna.

  Anna’s here.

  Anna’s back from her second death.

  Anna is…here.

  “Ditto,” is all I manage to say on a quiet rasp.

  CHAPTER 5

  VANCE

  AVERY: We’ve just reached the hotel, and I’m about to escort Ms. Carmine inside.

  ME: Is her new phone working?

  AVERY: Yes, sir.

  Then why the bloody hell isn’t she answering any of my texts or calls?

  “Everything points to her being near, but I can’t track her down,” I grind out, wiping the blood from my nose, as the migraine from this chase pounds on, stepping into dangerous aneurism territory that will put me down for days I can’t afford to lose right now.

  “If she were in town, we’d know it. We’d sense it,” Damien argues as he sits up.

  “Has Violet talked to any of you since she left Ireland?” I ask idly, as I wipe more blood from my nose, a byproduct of my latest loop break.

  “She’s not listening to much reasoning, and she refuses to even hear what a stupid idea it is to essentially set up a House that Idun will destroy or take over,” Emit says absently, staring ahead at the wall. “She’s so naïve, and Marta isn’t stopping her from painting herself a target.”

  “Marta is still working an angle for Nadine’s backing. Her own agenda is more important than Violet. How is that not obvious?” Arion drawls.

  All our phones go off at once, a message from Shera. It’s oddly a picture of the park across the street from them. Arion is suddenly out of the room, distracting me, as Emit frowns and pulls his phone back out.

  “Fucking son of a bitch! Idun’s in front of the hotel,” Damien says as he darts out as well, just as a second image pops up before I can even play the game of finding Idun in the photo.

  This picture is of Avery, pulling Violet back, as she just stares over at Idun like she’s simply a curious girl with no motherfucking clue.

  “She has lost her fucking mind!” Emit snaps before he jumps to his feet.

  The migraine disappears, and the focus goes so sharp in the next instant that I don’t even realize I’m in my car and halfway there, passing Arion’s blur of motion, as I max out my car’s speed for the first time.

  It all slows down around me, as I weave in and out of traffic, effortlessly dodging everything. I skid to a halt, before I leap out of the car, leaving it abandoned just off the shoulder.

  I ignore the honking horns as I walk across the street, and cars screech to a halt in front of me as I catch my first sight of Idun. She’s still exactly where she was in the image, only she’s taken a seat on the bench now.

  Avery darts a worried look in my direction, as I continue walking toward her, not trying to raise her hackles.

  A thousand years under and she just shows up in front of Violet’s place to sit and wait for us to arrive? Nothing feels right.

  A chill rides up my spine, just before Arion is suddenly beside me, breathing a little heavy, as he keeps his eyes trained on her.

  She picks at the sleeve on her right arm l
ike she’s waiting for something.

  “You can be anything but naïve, Violet. Closing your eyes doesn’t make the problem go away,” I barely hear Shera say. “She’s our worst problem.”

  Idun’s eyes finally lift, revealing the cosmic blue that was always her best feature, as the few tendrils of curls fall from her hairpins.

  “I’m sure the guys are already on their way by now. She’s clearly very much their problem,” we all hear Violet say loud and dismissively.

  For fuck’s sake, is she trying to rile her?

  Idun makes no expression as she murmurs, “I guess you’ve warned her about me.”

  Certainly an anticlimactic entry line. After a thousand years, I expected something a little bigger to come out of her mouth.

  Arion’s eyes narrow on her, both of us trying to figure out this very underwhelming entrance.

  I dart a glance to the hotel to find Emit and Damien standing across the street, staring over like they’re taking the second line of defense.

  I’m paired with the neutral fucking vampire who won’t lay a hand on Idun when she does finally strike. This is about to get ugly.

  “Can you run upstairs to the third floor and grab my toolbox?” I hear Tom yelling in the mostly silent household, aside from Violet muttering curses about the expense of an elevator she’s going to get installed.

  The gravity of the situation escapes her, and she’s only riling Idun, even though Idun feigns disinterest.

  “And go grab my specs from the fifth floor,” Tom shouts like the town needs to hear him. “I’m going to have my guy come out and make blueprints happen.”

  He’s the fool who put a stake through Arion’s heart. Obviously he doesn’t understand the severity of this situation.

  We wait on Idun to make the first move, and she simply clears her throat, before saying, “Since the gang’s all here, I—”

  “The fifth floor?” Violet shouts, cutting Idun off like she can’t believe she has to climb more stairs. “Really?” she adds just as loudly.

  Idun doesn’t even glance toward the hotel, and seems remarkably unbothered by the interruption. It’s all an act, of course. She always enjoys the added drama of suspense.

  “I guess you haven’t made me sound too horrible,” Idun says tightly.

  Damien snorts from across the street, and Idun’s eyes lift to glance over at him. I can feel the angry heat of his glare on her from here.

  “I know what you all think,” she says when we just remain silent.

  “Room five-oh-eight!” Tom shouts abruptly.

  Is he really fucking advertising her exact location?

  Are all my knights outside? Does anyone fucking have eyes on Violet?

  “Stop announcing her location in here step by step,” Shera shouts from a different location than Violet’s voice is.

  I try not to make any subtle moves, waiting to hear Violet’s voice again, hoping she makes a sound, as Idun seems to stall.

  “I highly doubt you know what we’re thinking at all,” I point out.

  “You’re worried about her right now. Worried I have someone in there who’s going to hurt her,” Idun says, actually telling me what’s on my mind.

  I fucking hate her.

  “Damien is envisioning me dead, when we all know I can’t die, much to your dismay,” she says softly, suspiciously contrite.

  Arion’s narrowed eyes only narrow more, as he slowly moves away from me, keeping his gaze warily affixed to her.

  “Emit is checking the air to see if his wolves are coming yet, and feeling disappointed that they’re not,” she carries on, likely nailing each one.

  “Found them!” Violet says, causing some ease to fill me.

  Idun’s eyes move to lock onto Arion’s for the first time, and she just stares at him for a brief second. “And you’re about to leverage my necklace over me to keep me from being the monster none of you want to deal with.”

  Her eyes flick from us to the sidewalks, where people are walking through, and she stays seated, as she pensively observes them.

  “I don’t want the necklace back,” she says calmly, eyes still on the people who don’t even pay her any attention.

  Most of them are more curious about the knights in front of the hotel, who look like security, drawing way too much attention to it.

  “Violet, are you bringing my stuff or what?” I hear Tom shout, listening for her response.

  “Y-yeah,” I hear her call back, sounding somewhat unnerved. “On my way.”

  I glance through the window to see her running a hand through her hair, as she hurries down the stairs, her lips moving but no sound reaching me, as she seems to speak to someone.

  I just catch the one glimpse of her, but never anyone else.

  “You don’t want it back?” Arion asks with clear suspicion.

  Violet and her father begin to go back and forth, talking about the work that needs to be done…like nothing at all is going on out here.

  Emit and Damien draw closer, and Idun gently shakes her head, as she drops her gaze to her lap again.

  “I don’t want to see it. Hear about it. Be tempted by it in anyway, Arion. Keep it far away from me. Bury it in or under hell for all I care. I can’t be close to it,” she says as she stands.

  I immediately put my hand on my sword, and she grimaces, which is highly unexpected. She loves it when I prepare to fight her.

  “I spent longer than a thousand years underground. I’ve served my sentence,” she continues. “I won’t even fight against whatever it is she’s doing right now with my family. So long as that necklace stays far away from me, I’m done.”

  She says the words so seriously that I almost stupidly believe them, just because I want it to be true. Life would be grand if it really was this simple.

  Emit and Damien cast a narrowed gaze in my direction.

  “Just that easily?” Arion drawls.

  “Nothing is ever easy with Idun,” Damien states in a bored tone, as he and Emit move in, and we begin to circle her very subtly.

  “Sitting directly in front of Violet’s recently purchased home for your power stash of alphas, who can handle nesting that many together, was all to say you’re done playing games?” I muse.

  She lets out a tired, humorless laugh.

  “It’s not easy to go cold turkey. And don’t think I didn’t spend a few centuries being really creative. But there’s a point when the agony is so fierce that the hold of something as powerful as that necklace suddenly breaks,” she says, her eyes distant like she’s stuck in a memory.

  She blinks rapidly and clears her throat, as we tighten the circle just a little, still waiting on whatever nasty shot she’s planning to take.

  Violet’s scent hits me hard, and I dart a quick glance to see her stepping out, stumbling to a clumsy stop when her eyes land on all of us. She looks away in the next instant, and collects a sledgehammer from the ground, after she puts on a hard hat. Without ever looking at us again, she walks back inside.

  Idun’s eyes level mine when I turn back around, and she gives me a lopsided smile. “I truly don’t expect anyone at all to believe me. My House is a rather enormous mess, due to my absence, and I’m referring to the shifters running awry in your very own regions. I’ve been mending and getting caught up. Demetria will be arriving soon, and I will be setting up here.”

  “And it starts,” Emit scoffs, scrubbing a hand over his face as he laughs humorlessly.

  “Nothing is starting. You hated me, and I understand why. After the hold of that damning necklace broke, I felt it all. There’s nothing I can do about the horrible past we all share, but I can move forward. I’m not here to torment you. I’m here to coexist and prove myself. No matter how many centuries it takes.”

  “Unbelievable,” Damien mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Does anyone here believe this rubbish?”

  “You know you broke the rules?” Arion asks her like he’s genuinely curious, and a sinking feel
ing collects in my stomach.

  “Yes,” she says softly toward him. “I know. I don’t blame you for finally straying. Knowing I lost you just proves I’m right about the necklace, and that it should be kept away from me. If you can find a way to destroy it, I hope you do.”

  “In other words, she wants you to get right on that so she can follow you to it and leave you dead for the next twenty-eight years, while she does whatever phase-two of her plan is,” I state dryly.

  A shadow passes over her eyes, and she looks over at Damien.

  “If you want the curse lifted, I’ll do it. If you want it to remain so that she’s one of the limited warm bodies you can feed from, I’ll do that too.”

  “How convenient,” he spits out.

  “I’d have done it at least four hundred years ago if I could have gotten out. I knew you’d leave me under indefinitely, and with your revenge, my entire alpha line would suffer because of me.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Idun. Cut the shite,” Damien shouts, his accent hitting old notes that he’s long since trained against. “There have been some changes since you went under. You’ll find the world you live in much harder to lay under the radar. So many new toys have been created—by the humans of all people—that may just send your ass straight to hell after all. It’s not the Dark Ages anymore, and we fully intend to keep it nice and dull.”

  She gives one small nod.

  “Don’t speak for me,” Arion cuts in. “I’m remaining neutral, so long as Idun works to make that a truth, and not just a suggestive thought in my mind to persuade me that’s what she’s doing, when she’s really not.”

  It feels like he’s having the vaguest argument in history with her.

  “Only time will tell that. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but you’re only going to believe me if I prove I mean what I say. I don’t ever want to return to the monster that stone turned me into. I’m not asking you to trust me—”

  We all make some derisive sound on that note, aside from Arion, who just continues to study her.

 

‹ Prev