Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(75)

“I sincerely, truly hope my mother comes soon, because I don’t know if they have monster shrinks, and I need one before I crack like an egg. For a normal person, that’s catastrophic. For me? Yeah, I don’t want to think about it.”

I glance out the window, making sure a vampire in a towel isn’t pressing an ear to the glass. He’s nowhere to be seen, and the ground below is brightly lit up. I’m guessing he’s in the distant dark patch beyond the road.

“In truth, I’m not used to feeling so many intense things at all about so many people at once. Usually, I’m a little thicker than this, which means all four of them have slowly niggled in closer somehow, without me realizing just how close. That’s the only time it hurts, and I’ve never been around so many people at once to have to care about.”

I comb through the mostly dry strands of my hair with my fingers, staring idly at Arion’s jacket, and feeling the inner crazy girl in me wondering if Idun’s picture is in the pocket.

“I think it’s also possible that my mind is fracturing and I’m losing it a little.” I wipe a stray tear from my eye and take a fortifying breath. “The omegas have really gotten to me too, and would you believe Shera, of all people, has managed to worm her way in as well? We hated her.” I shrug a shoulder, smiling a little. “I guess I should have known, after all.”

I tap my chin as a thought crosses my mind.

“Maybe I’m not going crazy if I’m talking to you…on the off chance there’s a secret dimension I’m unaware of. Right now, I’m having a major identity crisis during a possible nuclear moment, and tackling the prospect of having four boyfriends. Perhaps I’m already batshit crazy and don’t even realize it.”

I think worrying about going crazy is certainly going to make me crazy.

“Anyway, Emit’s more of a friend type, so I’m not even sure what I’m thinking. Yes, I know he’s hot; I moved toward radioactive-hot for a while, but he just cools off too quick. And if you’re watching, you should see the list of baggage-claims that come with Arion without me bringing them up. Yes, now I’m pissed and forcing you to endure one-sided boy talk again, because I need to feel semi-normal for a second before the tornado I’m in starts twisting again.”

I glance out the window again, still seeing no sign of Arion, and watch as the pretty flakes of snow continue to fall.

“Just so you know, today is one of those days where I actually hate you for not being here,” I add in conclusion as I clear my throat. “So if there’s a third dimension where you’re listening to all this, hopefully it’ll give you the incentive you need to come back so I can hate you to your face. I could really use you right now, Anna.”

I stop whispering to her when I see something blur in front of the window, and Arion’s eyes collide with mine through the glass like he’s surprised to find me there.

It’s a brief exchange.

In the next instant, the window is open, and hands slide around my waist from behind. He really is incomprehensibly fast to go from outside and in front of me to directly behind me without me seeing the movement.

“Missing me, love?” he muses, lips pressing to the side of my head.

I don’t answer as he releases me, and I listen as he moves around the room.

“If you’re tired at all, now’s the time to grab some rest before they get here. We’ll be on task starting then, and there won’t be time for rest after that. Not for a few days,” he states conversationally, as if it’s a casual sort of thing to be vague about.

I don’t bother doing anything aside from flopping onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as the mountains of information flood through my mind, along with all the chaos I’ve endured most recently.

He returns with the bottle of scotch in one hand, and a half-full glass in the other, drinking it absently, as he studies the label.

“Some things have improved. Some haven’t,” he says idly, abandoning the glass and bottle on the nightstand, as he slides into bed next to me.

It’s weird how careful he is not to touch me when we’re in the bed, as opposed to when we’re…anywhere else. But in the bed, you could put a line of pillows between us.

“She wasn’t ready to truly be dead,” I tell him, feeling his confused look on me as I move closer to him.

“Who’s that, love?” he asks, staying still as I end up tucked against his side.

My head goes to his shoulder, and his arm tentatively slides around my waist, his hand barely resting on my hip.

“Anna,” I say softly, tracing a circle on his bare, very firm chest, idly wondering why he’s still in a towel. “She only died because she wanted to stay by my side, and then she went out of her way to avoid the worst of the decay.”

He doesn’t say anything, his arm remaining gingerly around me, as I move my head over more to be on his chest.

“But she wasn’t ready to be gone, or she would have moved on naturally to wherever it is ghosts go to find true peace. For all I know, she’s stuck in some hellish void somewhere, and I helped her kill herself.”

I feel his lips pressing against the top of my hair, as he gives me a gentle kiss to starkly contrast his less-than-gentle nature, to put it mildly.

“I honestly don’t know what limits life-and-death have. I stopped caring when I could no longer die,” he confesses. “But she was dead before she met you, love. Wherever she is, I find it hard to believe she’s blaming you for anything.”