Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(39)

“You told me to inform you the second I had information on the vampires who tried to take out the gypsy shop owner,” Isiah says with a calm, somewhat apologetic tone.

“Violet,” Damien points out with a dark grin. “Use her name right now. Show her respect. Be smart, vampire.”

“I told you that when I first came out of the ground,” Arion says dismissively. “I also told you to never interrupt me if Violet is alone with me. Picking and choosing which orders to follow?” Arion muses.

“When will Shera return?” Emily asks on a huff. “The deal was that if Isiah found out who was after Violet—”

“You’re saying Edmond Portocale—the man who hates us all as much as the Marta Portocale—tried to kill a Portocale. We all know Edmond’s a family man. Why should we believe this?” Damien cuts in, talking over Emily—something she despises and causes her to glare at him.

He takes a seat, smiling bitterly over at her.

His illusion masked all sound, both ways, just as Violet got upset, hence the reason we went outside to join the bubble instead of giving her the dignity of simply eavesdropping. I’m thankful Violet’s meltdown stayed limited to only the four of us.

“I have three vampires in the basement prison—where we keep prisoners, usually,” Isiah says with a hint of a bite in his tone.

“Passive aggressive much?” Damien chirps, even as his eyes narrow.

“Violet’s father is an idiot. Not a threat,” Arion says with a dismissive tone as he pours some whiskey, addressing the jab. “Why would I put him in lockup?”

“Violet’s father is a null-and-void point, as it doesn’t pertain to just vampire business,” I decide to weigh in, twirling my blade in my hand.

“Put it away, Van Helsing. You’re not stupid enough to kill another of Arion’s beloved betas. Not after his last reminder,” Emily says, smirking at me. “Idle threats aren’t necessary. My lover is just delivering information.”

Arion drinks his whiskey, a smirk of his own donning his lips.

I level Emily with a look. “I’m a little tired of people underestimating me because of one poor fight,” I state in a droll tone, taking the drink Damien casually offers on his way by me to take a seat of his own.

“You said if I discovered who orchestrated the attack, you would give us Shera,” Isiah says, keeping his eyes cast downward.

I groan in unison with Damien, as both of us swing our gazes to Arion.

He’s still smirking as he scratches his eyebrow, finally turning to face Isiah and Emily.

“I lied,” Arion tells him unapologetically.

Emily straightens, eyes angrily assessing her brother.

“You can’t be serious right now,” she bites out. “Do you have any idea how hard he worked to find that—”

“I’m not overly concerned with the effort he exerted. I’ve given him one task since rising, and he told me there was no way to trace it any farther than I’d been able to,” Arion says conversationally. “At the end of the day, an alpha shouldn’t have to give his beta incentive for doing a single fucking task.”

The temperature in the room chills, and Damien’s the one to smirk at Emily, while I step back into observer mode once more.

Emily’s confidence drains in front of our eyes, and she sits up straighter, casting a worried look toward Isiah, who has gone rigid and silent.

“In other words, my beta didn’t find it important enough to go that extra mile when it was just his job. But when there was something in it for him—”

“I got lucky and got a small lead,” Emily jumps in, restarting the story now and changing it completely from the original version.

Arion twirls a pencil in his hand, studying it.

“I’m not sure why my beta—one of my favorites, no less—is discussing my House matters and orders so openly in such abundance,” Arion continues, pulling out a small pencil sharpener—and being theatrically calm—as he begins sharpening the pencil.

Isiah says nothing, and I drop a foot to my knee, sitting casually now. This is one less problem for me, since it’s rare Arion gets so pissed that he’s eerily calm.

“And the matter of ignoring my prioritized orders by mincing words and pretending all orders are of the same priority simply because…well, I’m not really sure why you’re acting that way,” Arion continues, eyes flicking to a now shuddering Isiah.

Emily has paled at this point, and Arion pulls the pencil out, blowing a few shavings away, as he makes a show of examining the sharper point.

“Shera found me a variety of uniquely different, customized pencils. Quite useful, that beta. She stayed by Violet’s side, despite death’s inevitable reach, because at the end of the day, she fears me as much as she respects me.” He twirls the pencil before giving Isiah all of his undistracted attention. “Because she knows how to follow my orders. If I want to dangle her in front of your nose like a carrot to get you to do half the job she does, then I’ll do it. If I tell you you’ll not get her unless she chooses to leave with you, that is my standing fucking order.”

The calm starts to waver, that familiar crazed expression slowly bleeding into his eyes, as they continue to darken, rimming only a slight red.

Damien flicks a nervous glance at me, and I slowly slip my blade back out of my boot.