Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(11)

It looks like an old underground subway station that they’ve converted into a wolf den of some sort. But there are so many wolves in flesh and fur that it’s hard to really tell anything else about the room.

“This isn’t about Idun. It’s about Ian and finishing what he started. Idun’s just the fear factor for motivation,” I tell her dismissively as we stay tucked out of sight the best we can, just barely peering over. “Damien’s the curse of flesh. Arion’s the curse of blood.”

“So glad you’re a genius. Now I feel even more confident in everything you say or do,” Shera whispers like I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever met and she can’t believe she has to die beside me.

In her underwear.

Because I made a pointless plan…and then made a new plan on the fly when Arion’s screams started.

“To break the curse, I can do like I did with Damien, only with blood instead of sex,” I whisper in explanation, as Abby rattles on with her sadistic, motivational speaking.

Shera’s eyes widen when she catches my meaning finally, and she immediately shakes her head.

“Arion will kill me if I let you run through a bunch of hyped-up, bloodthirsty wolves to offer him blood. His monster is about to emerge, Violet. The midnight hour is fast approaching.”

I really need sleep if it’s midnight again. Clearly I’ll have to wait until we’re out of this mess.

They mentioned midnight being a key factor in his curse. The gist and all…

“The monster is sort of what I’m waiting for. If you could use some of your sort-of-badass power to create a distraction when that happens, I’d appreciate it,” I whisper.

“They will divide to conquer us, and one by one, we will—”

Abby’s speech is interrupted on the third or fourth climactic build up, when a heartbreaking cry of agony slowly fades into a vicious, feral growl.

Arion’s skin is a light gray tone, as his eyes turn solid red instead of white, and a slight chill slithers up me. His face looks like a few of the wolves have taken cheap shots while he’s been downed.

No one is trying to sneak in a shot right now, and the temperature in the air drops substantially. Shera even shudders beside me as our breaths blow out in a synchronized fog.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen his monster, but it’s the first time he’s been this absent in his mind.

He shakes inside the stockade, and the metal threatens to give, causing some of the closer wolves to scurry back.

Abby remains still, even as she darts a nervous glance to Arion like this isn’t what she was expecting.

His knees are bleeding against the sharp silver spikes sticking out of the ground they’ve knelt him on, and my heartbeat starts lowering on its own.

“I’m going to need that distraction now,” I tell Shera quietly.

“He will kill me if I let you do this. He’ll be fine, Violet. Even if they manage to kill him, he’ll be back in twenty-eight years to obliterate every single one. I’m not letting you do this.”

When it becomes clear the stockade is going to hold, Abby starts talking again, though her tone is tenser and a little less arrogant next to Arion’s growls and gnashing teeth, instead of his broken screams of torture.

“How much power does it take to knock a mostly badass beta unconscious?” I ask her when I see a slight gap in the crowd to make this a little easier.

She mutters something as she drops to her back and puts her hand over her forehead.

“What are you doing?” I ask in confusion.

She cracks one eye open and glares at me with it before grinding out, “I’m fainting.”

Her eye snaps shut again, and by some miracle, I manage to keep a straight face, since this is a really serious moment.

The two long banners at the other end snap, likely because of Shera doing her part to help me be the fool who throws herself at the monster’s feet. All eyes jerk in that direction, as I stand and fling myself over the balcony.

The strings come to life, flying out of my bra and swinging me through the crowd like a wanna-be, poor man’s spider-girl in Ghost Buster underwear.

Wrecking Ball pops into my head, and I can almost imagine Anna singing it to me in this moment.

I thought the juvenile, unsexy undies would help keep things from escalating on the date I didn’t want to take with the guy I can’t refuse, whose monster I’m about to feed. Now, however, I’m totally regretting the underwear choice.

My feet land with barely a sound made, as the strings catch me in time, and they sling out as my heart pumps a little slower.

I sprint with determination, as the threads spread and fray, unraveling to create more. They whir through the air and catch wolves by the throats like little threaded collars.

It’s enough to drop the rest of the path in front of me, and too surprising for the untrained gathering to react in time.

I dive to the platform on the other side of Abby, narrowly dodging those spikes in the floor. Her eyes widen as I slide across the ground on my knees, feeling the sting of the concrete as it stops me from sliding too much.

Before I can fall forward, I catch myself on the stockade, and come eye to red-eye with Arion.

The dark little smirk that lines his silent monster’s lips chills me to my bones. Still, I turn my neck to offer it, just as his stockade breaks and metal flies everywhere.