Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters #5)(17)
Tiara’s in a bridal gown that is a little small for her shoulders and not fully zipped.
Simpletons are chanting both of their names like they can’t figure out who to root for. I’m not sure what the fucking hell the goal of this ridiculousness is.
“Maybe we should have invited the Simpletons into all our alpha meetings after all. We might have avoided more wars if they’d sucked the tension right out of the air with this nonsense,” I finally say, shaking my head, as I pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?” he asks me.
“Proving to Arion that my wolves are closer to her than his beta, before I up my game.”
“He’s already surpassed you. You’re at the back of the pack,” he says as I smirk at the screen, zooming in on Violet’s smile. “Pun intended,” he adds as though he’s attempting to provoke me.
I keep the clip short, just to piss them off that they’re not here to see it, because I feel like being a dick. I don’t get to punch Zuela in the face or wreck any of his precious, handmade stained glass, so this is almost like a consolation prize of sorts.
“Until now, I had one foot in and one foot out. It kept me in as much trouble as Arion. Now I know what I need to do.”
“Oh tell me, wise wolf, what great epiphany did you just have?” he asks in a flat, condescending tone.
My fist slams into his smug face before he even has time to register it, and he curses as he staggers back, cupping his nose.
“You fucking barbarian!” he shouts, gesturing between us, as he covers his bloodied nose with one hand and glares at me. “This is why we can’t hang out. You have violent fits like Vance and Arion to soothe your hostile insecurities. I give people fucking great orgasms. You bring pain.”
“I’d apologize, but Zuela left me riled, so that felt too good to be sorry about,” I say with an unapologetic shrug. “I’m sure I owed it to you since the last time I did it.”
He pauses like he’s thinking. “Nope. But I’ll get a free pass when I do deserve it,” he decides.
I gesture to him. “This is why we don’t hang out.”
CHAPTER 3
ARION
I flip back to the clip Emit just sent, as I sling green goop off my rusty heap of metal that was a masterful Van Helsing sword seconds ago. Vance, the bastard, knew the exact amount of swings I’d take. I don’t even get to save just one last strike for a later date.
“Your focus is too sharp, and I don’t like it,” I inform him.
“Thought my focus was a thing of beauty, Arion,” he states absently, as his knights finish helping all the freshly turned, and the unturned, out to start cleaning up the mess.
“Your job sucks. Why do we have to do it right now?” I ask him as I step over another green pile of sludge.
“Because civilians were caged, Arion. Remember being human for just a brief second, while I try and figure out why in the hell Violet wants to transport all the Simpletons to Shadow Hills.”
“Idun will put them underfoot, regardless, so we may as well bring them on over,” I note aloud.
“I’m not in a hurry to make things easier for Idun,” he reminds me.
“Push her on every little thing, and she just pushes back harder. Save your strength, Van Helsing. Play this game my way. Also, give Violet what she wants, because she won’t like how often we have to cater to Idun. It’s best to not rile the one we want over the one we want to carefully detach from,” I tell him as the last of the knights leave us alone with the final shapeshifter of the evening.
Clearly he knows he’s dead by this point. We’re discussing far too much in front of him. Not to mention he essentially broke all the human laws Vance has.
That little lip-quiver proves he’s self-aware.
“Unlike you, I already detached long, long ago. Tell me why you’re so confident,” Vance says as his hands go to his hips. “I swear to take it to my grave if you just tell me why you truly believe you can control Idun.”
“Take care of that shifter while I go ensure there aren’t any lingering ears,” I grind out, gesturing toward the doorways. “I no longer trust our noses, since Marta Portocale shot arrows through us from the very next room.”
“To be fair, her scent is unnaturally wrong and weak right now. It makes me worry we’re being played,” he answers like he’s read my mind a few times.
“We need Emit and Damien to find Demetria, who just so happens to be in the same area as Violet is now,” I carry on, trying really damn hard to remain calm…because now would be a terrible time to lose my temper. “Tell me Demetria isn’t playing us and pretending to be Marta Portocale, because I’m certain that woman is most definitely not Idun. As for the confidence, I have something valuable…that I can’t discuss until I search this place.”
Vance’s eyes flick to mine. “I believe Marta Portocale is who she says she is. No one is here, besides him, and he’s about to die,” he tells me, gesturing to the sniveling man on the ground. “Speak freely, Arion.”
The guy chokes on his sobs. “P-please don’t kill me. I serve Idun faithfully,” he cries.
“You fed from children. Even I find that abhorrent. The more whimpering you do, the longer your death will take,” I point out, hoping Vance lets me take out all my frustration on this one.