Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(88)
She gives us all a dry look. “What she agreed to is between the two of us, unless you’re okay with her sharing the secrets she’s discovered about you. She wouldn’t give me that offer without giving it to you as well. After all, Violet’s only fair.”
I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, and Marta just darts a look around, a slow smile curving one side of her mouth.
“I guess that’s why she spent so much time talking about resurrecting a dead ghost,” she says, only confusing me farther. “None of you really know my daughter at all, even though she honestly thinks you’re making the effort.”
A cold washes over me. I perused diamond rings on my damn phone, just curious what’s popular on the market these days, and Violet is under the impression we’re simply making the effort to get to know her.
I wasn’t planning to propose just yet, not with everything that’s going on, but it’s still a harsh gap in mindsets…
“Just one generalized comment on that, then? No one stood above the others? Perhaps someone meaning a little bit more than that?” I ask her, narrowing my eyes.
“Even I know it’s bloody wrong to ask Marta for a leg up in her daughter’s romantic entanglement, Vancetto,” Damien says like he’s taking Marta’s side, when she casts a disgusted look in my direction.
“He didn’t ask who our sweet Violet prefers in bed,” Arion drawls with a grin. “He just asked a mostly innocent question, since he had her all to himself for two short days and now gets some extra attention,” he adds.
A collective fog rolls out in our next breaths, and Marta visibly stiffens. But her ire crystalizes our next breaths, small shatters raining through the air, as the temperature drops substantially.
“Careful right now, Arion,” I caution, eyes darting to Violet, who stares down at her nails as though she finds them fascinating.
She frowns at her foggy breath and glances our way.
I’ve never seen Arion so agonized over a decision, because Marta Portocale has a weakness he can finally extort. She’s giving herself away by simply glaring as if she wants us all truly good and dead over this.
But it’s not just her weakness.
The true Marta Portocale slips back into place, as a dark, sinister expression crosses her features. “I just have to be patient, boys,” she says with that smile I hate so much. “All it will take is for one of you to fuck it all up. My money’s on the vampire, because that will be Violet’s breaking point.”
Arion rolls his eyes. “The more people question me, the more I want to prove them all wrong, Marta. You’re doing little more than fueling my undying obsession with your daughter.”
His grin only grows, as the fool vampire starts toward her trap without even seeing it. I casually glance back, seeing Violet still in the soundproof box, while she calmly and collectively gathers her things, including the red coat Arion had waiting for her when the clown car finally caught up to us.
Marta simply smirks far too confidently, not even rattled in the moment.
“Here’s something for you all to think about while you’re gloating over this as a win in our very long score book,” she says as she glances into her purse, lifting a small handkerchief that is hideous, which means Violet made it.
She actually tries to wipe the smirk off her face, as though it’s a reaction she doesn’t wish to share, which makes this slightly more worrisome.
“You think you know Violet. Sweet, lovely, precious Violet. She’s shown you her bite, but her lack of bark confuses everyone,” Marta says in a taunting manner.
“We’ve seen her monster’s bark and bite,” I argue.
She lets out a small laugh before looking away, clearly unconvinced. “No. You haven’t. Because there is only bite. Even her warnings are bites. You’re all too numb to this world to realize it, and she’s resilient enough to survive you, so I simply just have to wait.”
We’ve certainly been too numb, because the growing concern in my chest is almost unfathomable. Just having Marta—the enemy mother—too close to Violet is driving me insane. What the hell happens when Idun—her Neopry alpha—steps too close? It’s as though the gravity of our situation has finally resonated and is truly settling onto my shoulders with its pressing weight. A prickle of hot awareness shoots up my spine.
“She’s very reasonable, and will allow you to step on her from time to time, not pushing unless it’s truly worth bothering with. Usually she doesn’t mind it, if I’m honest. People confuse that with assuming she’s a doormat, something she’s certainly not,” Marta prattles on, clearly a little more numb than she realizes, if she’s not also feeling the mounting dread.
It’s as though a timer has just been started, and we only have so long until it goes off.
Her sinister gaze and twisted lips remain in place.
“I’m quite accustomed to compromising with my daughter, since I raised her as human and she thinks very human,” Marta says with a shrug. “Tell me, Alphas, how easy is it for you to put aside your nature and see yourself as equal to an omega? Can you truly do it?” she asks. “Because that’s what I raised her to expect. It assured me you’d always be a non-issue,” she goes on.
“You foresaw us with Violet?” Emit asks her incredulously.