Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters #5)(10)
These aren’t my feelings at all.
“I’m not concerned with gratitude,” I murmur quietly, still slightly confused by the growing sensation that I’m feeling someone else’s feelings. “I brought gifts you’ll need.”
Simpletons really are very empathic…
Bobo and Ighan finally dart a glance to the omegas, who are patiently holding heavy boxes stacked on top of heavy boxes, while they wait.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I quickly start toward them. “Put them down. I’ll—”
Bobo makes a surprised sound in his throat, before he almost shakes the floor with his weird running. He runs worse than I do. I’m not sure why that makes me smile.
He snatches a box from Tiara’s hands, and her eyebrows lift, as she freezes in place.
Bobo takes a long sniff of the box, squeezing it to his chest in a tight embrace.
When he groans and smiles, as though he’s happy and tortured, I add, “It’s all made from the same apples you grew. Or so I’m told. I grow the green apple trees.”
Bobo and Ighan both give me a confused look, as Bobo tears open the box he’s holding with one hand…as if it’s featherweight. He pulls out a bottle of shampoo, and Ighan catches it when it’s tossed to him, even though he bobbles it a few times, before clasping it with two hands.
He opens and sniffs the bottle, a slow grin spreading over his lips.
“Y-y-you one of us?” he asks like he can’t believe it. “B-b-but they said you a P-P-Port—”
“She’s Portocale and Neopry. Apples and oranges. You can’t really compare her to anyone else,” Tiara says like she’s informing them that I’m different, making this incredibly awkward.
Ighan and Bobo just smile brighter instead of being upset about…anything.
The alphas are still technically arguing over how much about me they’ll be able to keep a secret from Idun.
If she’s as vindictive as they claim, I doubt I have any secrets left that she hasn’t uncovered…
The stirrings of an odd memory pop into my mind.
Puddles and splatters of blood.
Numerous severed limbs.
Broken walls and crushed beams…
My heartbeat kicks at my chest in two heavy blows when I see the full image of the massacre I sat out to do the night my head was knocked off.
A face flashes before my eyes, but it’s gone before I get a good look at it. Was someone left alive?
No. Not possible. My monster doesn’t leave witnesses.
Except for Ian and those other wolves…
Shit. Why is this now bothering the hell out of me? Why haven’t I ever remembered that before?
Something hard lands against my side, nearly knocking the breath out of me, as I slam into the wall beside me. My head bounces off it, and for a brief moment, I see stars. I rapidly recover, and glare over at a wide-eyed Tiara, who has her elbow suspended mid-air, because she just elbowed me across the room.
“Sorry,” she says, blinking a few times. “I was just trying to get your attention, because you seemed to have dazed off. I’m in heat this week, so I’m a little stronger than usual,” she adds very bluntly. “I forgot.”
Great. If one’s in heat, they’re all in heat. Mom is going to kill me.
I run a hand over my face, shaking my head.
“In h-h-heat?” Ighan asks as though he’s confused. “T-too warm?”
“The temperature is great, but we’re not here to talk about that. I wanted to give you something as close to comfort food as I can cook. I also came to help you learn a little about the way the world works now,” I quickly deflect, smiling brightly at them, while rubbing my aching side.
Don’t piss off a wolf with PMS. Duly noted. Seriously, there should be some big book to keep up with all the little things people seem to find unimportant—
“G-g-good,” Ighan says, smile only growing, as he gestures to the TV. “It stopped.”
I can fix the TV, but there’s a lot more needed than I initially thought of.
Leiza steps up with the pen and paper she had earlier, ready to write, like she knew I was about to ask it of her.
“What’s the quickest way to help English along for them? You said they picked up on languages fast,” I state to Leiza, already impressed with the amount Ighan has mastered just from watching freaking TV, apparently.
“I never made it past the first course of Spanish because it was really hard to learn another language. Again, I’ve been robbed of hereditary perks, and I’m starting to feel a little singled out,” I note aloud.
“Singing, of course, is the best tool,” Tiara tells me with a grin that is definitely insulting. “It’s what the Simpletons are known for.”
I’m already failing at being a Simpleton, because I suck worse at singing than learning a new language. They make it seem as though it’s as simple as watching freaking TV. And I failed singing lessons when my mother refused to believe I couldn’t carry the tune of a songbird.
If they’re considered Simpletons…no wonder the guys treat me as though I’m the biggest village idiot there has ever been in their presence. This is why they keep acting like I’m some sort of breakable doll who needs to be monitored at all times.
“G-g-got it,” Ighan says, figuring out which button to push on the remote. “I s-s-sat on it.”