Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(21)
No idea what the other dude says.
“That’s impossible,” Vance is arguing, the words forming despite the different language he’s clearly speaking, giving me a migraine from trying to figure out what the actual hell is going on.
A ripple of men all drop their swords to the ground, forming a rusty heap, and their glare deepens as the leader snaps something.
Vance takes a step forward, anger etching his features, as he shouts at them. “It wasn’t trickery! I wasn’t—”
Arrows whistle in the wind, seconds before Vance’s body is struck from what seems like twenty angles. Five hit his heart. I gag when I see the ones jutting from his face.
He drops to his knees as Arion lunges, but he’s batted down with another round of precisely aimed arrows from seemingly invisible archers I can’t even turn my head to locate.
It’s like a dream within a dream inside a dream.
I’m starting to figure out this helpless sort of feeling now, because my dreams suck balls. I’m always useless in my dreams.
Vance shouts something, forcing himself to his feet, not nearly as fast or sturdy as I know him to be.
The man who commanded the archers looks slightly horrified that Vance is still standing, and Vance snarls at him just before another barrage of arrows sail from the sky.
“Take out those fucking archers,” Vance shouts as he’s pelted by hailing arrows once more, barely grabbing a shield in an attempt to block his neck from being hit too many more times, swaying on his feet as he loses more and more blood.
He slings his sword, slicing through three necks and severing three heads, arrows jamming out of his body in a multitude of directions, as he practically roars with rage.
That’s when the ground starts vibrating, and howls ignite the air. The horses start to stir, making a collective, restless, high-pitched whinnying, as they try to flee on instinct, but keep getting pulled back by the tight reins.
The traveling gypsy market has already turned into a ghost town, as though everyone knows the drill when shit gets bad.
But my gaze lands on Arion, while everyone else listens to the fast-approaching pack of wolves that want everyone to know they’re coming.
Just as Emit’s dark wolf bursts out of the forest—a savage animal in need of a kill, so unlike the Emit I know now—my gaze jerks to Arion again, as he leaps onto one of the men, knocking the guy from the horse.
He rides the man to the ground, landing on top of him, and I barely catch a glimpse of his fangs before he jabs them into the man’s throat.
Even Emit slams to an abrupt halt, and all eyes turn to the savagery of Arion feeding for what seems to be the first true time since the day he slaughtered my ancestors.
The men on the horses all drop their weapons as though they’ve grown unable to hold them anymore, paling, while Arion moans and groans in so much pleasure, ripping through the flesh of the tender throat like nothing has ever been better.
The wolves all take a step back when Arion’s head lifts, and his eyes darken just barely, as a bloody grin crawls over his face.
When he moves again, it’s not so slow or uncertain. He’s fast as he flies onto another man, and right behind him, a dainty young woman, with soft blonde hair, licks her lips, staring at the dying man Arion’s left on the ground. Without another second of hesitation, she goes for him.
As if the shark-infested water has recently been chummed, seven more come leaping out of nowhere. Vampires act like bloodthirsty vampires, quickly hunting down their corralled prey, who’ve unknowingly set their own trap.
Blocked by a crescent of wagons, a short but steep mountainside, and an army of wolves slinking out of the woods to get a closer look at the vampires in a feeding frenzy—
My phone blares next to my ear, playing some annoying, ridiculous song about hands clapping. Who the hell did that to me?
I blink, my eyes taking in the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the curtains, as I glance around the familiar room.
Annoyed, I sit up, numbly fumbling around, idly remembering I fell asleep while Vance was dealing with a phone call. I’ll process that crazy dream later…when I’m finished processing every other crazier thing in my life.
“If I didn’t appreciate you waking me up during the strangest dream I’ve ever had in my life, I’d hate you for calling while this very obnoxious ringtone is on my phone,” I mumble by way of greeting, unsure about who I’m even talking to.
“I’m just glad you’re alive. It’s okay if I was still high this morning; I still got here in time to open the shop. People love our quirk, so business is booming,” Tiara assures me over the phone as I screw my eyes shut again.
“So is my mounting credit card debt, if these new texts are any indication,” I say on a heavy sigh, peeking open one eye to read through the many alerts I already have, after I put her on speaker.
“Oh, that. Yeah…that’s just some things to spruce up our room. Think of it as an investment, since we’re doing a lot of updates around the house. Are you just waking up?” she asks, abruptly shifting the topic. “Because we’ve wonderfully handled the store all day and we’re about to close it,” she adds like that affords some ridiculously priced hat my newest alert informs me about.
“For the record, this is the first time I’ve gotten quality sleep in I can’t remember how long. And I was drained by a vampire,” I inform her in a dry tone.