Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(32)

This stupid old fuck…I swear…

She whirls around, staring in horror at her father, as her hand almost unconsciously moves to be just over my heart, barely touching my thin shirt.

I step into the cool warmth of her touch, deciding this is going even better than planned, when she continues to gawk at her father while touching me.

“You stabbed a stake through his heart?” she hisses in shock, horror, and disbelief.

Tom blinks a few times, opening and closing his mouth, and then glares at all four of us, lingering on Vance and Damien, who he doesn’t really know. His glare returns to me.

“I told you she can’t know about all this,” Tom bites out.

“I can’t know about all this? I’m the monster. Not you,” Violet tells him.

I notice Shera doesn’t even blink. She’s a good beta to pretend like she’s not hanging on every word.

Tom scrubs a hand over his head that he’s shaking, as he puffs out a breath.

Violet turns her head toward Vance, even as her hand remains resting over my heart. I keep my hands to myself, following Shera’s very helpfully bold plan.

“Did you know my dad was here while—”

“No, he didn’t,” Damien cuts in dismissively, lying to her for reasons unbeknownst to me. “Tom showed up just before you went missing, and despite appearances, we don’t always communicate so well. Vance got left out.”

She looks relieved as she turns around, and Vance shoots Damien the same confused look as I do. Emit takes a seat in the corner, eyes on me as if he wants to turn wolf and have it out like the good ol’ days.

Oh, now that would be fun. Maybe it’d give Tom a helpful fright as well.

“It’s not like he’s in a dank cell with rabid vampires, Violet. Arion has been quite merciful, under the circumstances,” Shera goes on, putting the cards down like she’s finished pretending she has to stare at them for longer. “He’s been extremely hospitable and should be rewarded,” she adds like she’s really selling me, while giving Violet a pointed look.

Violet’s hand curls on my chest, and she exhales harshly.

“Dad, you’re supposed to be at home right now,” Violet says in a way that suggests she’s certainly angrier at her father than me.

Shera may get yet another raise for this.

Emit’s gaze flicks between Shera and I, like he’s figuring out whose idea this really was, and he rolls his eyes at me before narrowing them. I give him a fuck-you-giant-savage look.

Tom looks down at his cards, idly placing a pair on the table. “Got sidetracked,” is all he says in response.

Shera told me not to touch, but Violet wearing Vance’s shirt instead of mine, while in my house, is really annoying. I wonder if she’d change.

Shera gives me a look like she’s telling me to keep playing the game by the rules she gave me.

Sighing inwardly, my hand curls into a fist at the last moment, and I don’t touch her like I want to.

“Why are you just wearing a shirt?” Tom asks her.

Vance clears his throat a few times, and Violet levels her father with a look. “We’re not discussing me right now.”

Tom mutters something about her being too worked up, and Violet takes a calming breath.

She’s barely raising her voice, so I don’t know how she’s too worked up. I’d love to see Violet really pissed off—at anyone other than me, of course.

Her hand uncurls over my chest again, flattening against my heart.

“Why in the hell did you think you’d be able to kill an alpha vampire? How do you even know who or what he is?” Violet goes on.

Her father’s eyes cut around the room, drifting over Vance, Emit, Damien, me, and then at last settle on Violet again.

“They’re all four Alphas, aren’t they?” Tom asks. “As in the Head Alphas.”

“You really do know what’s going on in this town, and never once did you bother to actually bring it up to me,” Violet says a little sadly as she steps even closer to me.

Emit’s eyes narrow on me, as a slow grin spreads over my face, because Violet leans against me like she’s forgotten it’s me she’s touching. At Shera’s guiding little nod, I finally wrap my arm around her waist—not grabbing ass or anything I’ve been instructed not to do.

It’s hard to tell a newly impatient man to be patient, but I do like the early spoils of my labor.

The taste of her sweet blood still lingers on my tongue like a drug, something that should not be possible. All Portocale gypsies taste like rotten fruit on a dying day. Or at least they should.

They sure as hell shouldn’t taste as strong, virile, and intoxicating as Violet.

“Can you not stand so close to him?” Tom asks, trying to cock-block me like a natural prat.

She leaves my arm around her waist, even as I use it to pull her closer and closer—with great subtlety, of course. I even smirk at her father, as he glares at me.

“Can you guys give us a second?” she asks, slowly trying to pull away from me at last.

I don’t let go. I’m not grabbing ass, so there’s no reason to back away. Shera is giving her a look instead of me, and I grin when Violet stops trying to pull away.

Shera definitely gets a raise. She can build herself a mini den or something to match her mini kitchen.