Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters #5)(3)

My hand starts shaking as I stir the second pot, and her hand comes down on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

“That’s very thoughtful, Violet,” she says quietly.

There’s a moment my mind drifts back to how overwhelming it all was. The screams inside my mind, the various languages, the song they sang in unison…

“I felt their pain so real like it was all my own, and then I felt their relief. I don’t feel peoples’ emotions like that,” I go on, focusing the vast majority of my attention on the pots. “The guys keep saying I’m empathic, but I’m not even sure what that means.”

“It means a lot of things for a lot of people,” she says quietly. “In your particular case, you don’t actually have a strong empathic trait. It just feels strong when you do have overwhelming emotions, because they’ve not felt very many emotions at all these long, long years. Some people feel less and less with age. Monsters really grow numb,” she adds on a murmur, releasing a heavy breath. “Some of my family carries empathic traits. I’ve taught you to handle yours, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Yeah, that makes no sense to me, since I genuinely don’t feel very empathic and never have. My question is…how did I feel them so deeply, when I’ve never once felt anything at all like that before?” I ask her, glancing over to meet her eyes.

“Because they are very, very empathic. We were so close and they channeled all they had at us,” she explains, her eyes filling up with tears. “They empowered you.”

She turns to face me more, almost hesitating before her next words.

“Pandora’s box opened. My family flew in on the coattails, and seven new monsters were born. However, that still left hope at the very bottom. We all received a piece, Violet. It was the tricky box-maker’s design. Every monster was both blessed and cursed with hope.”

She swallows thickly, her eyes glancing out the window. I wonder if the shred of a soul Arion has is not his soul at all. What if it’s just his piece of hope?

“Out of seven alpha monsters—vampires, werewolves, deviants, sadistic skin walkers, Van Helsings, soul-eating Portocales, and the gentle, forgiving Simpletons—who do you think has treasured and cherished their piece of hope? Who do you think has sullied theirs to a diminished existence by consistently hoping for a chance to reap more bloodshed?”

I don’t say anything, and she gives me a tight smile.

“My hope was somewhat cleansed when you were born, regardless of my many mistakes. Still, it’s nowhere nearly as powerful as the hope they’ve remarkably maintained. All that beautiful hope is likely the real reason Idun’s House is so much stronger,” she continues. “That’s something I only deduced after remembering what it felt like to have hope at all—the very day I held you in my arms.”

It’s too much to deal with right now, and way too heavy.

“I should have brought apple products with me to begin with. Not that they’d have survived the plane crash I caused.”

I’m rambling at this point, but I passed out before I could meet them, and now it’s been four hours, and we’re just waiting on the mother to wake up in a few days, since she’s second of the Neopry House and Idun is still in the wind…

I don’t really know what’s going on. I’m just catching bits and pieces in between me zoning in and out. If my purpose is concluded, why do I still feel incomplete?

“It’s going to take them a bit to hydrate Nadine. She’s not nearly as strong as Idun and can’t do these things herself. For now, they’re more focused on just being free. They won’t care what products get them clean,” she assures me.

She abruptly sniffs the air, and whirls around, just as Emit steps through the door. The gorgeous savage tosses a small smile in my direction.

“Vance’s travel team has just arrived, and some very concerned omegas stowed away on that flight,” he tells me, and then steps aside, as Leiza bursts forth first, followed by Tiara, Lemon and Mary.

My smile grows when I feel a slight tapping under my foot, signaling that Ingrid is also here and hiding under the floorboards already.

“What’s this?” Mom hisses, snarling at the wolves, who quickly all lower their eyes.

“My friends. Be nice,” I caution her, which only elicits another groan.

Mom says a few words in yet another language, and I pointedly ignore her, while returning my attention to the omegas.

“Where’s Dad?” I ask Leiza, as Tiara carries in a large bag of what is likely more clothes for Emit and me, since they know we lost ours.

Emit takes the bag, and I let my eyes follow his bare ass into the next room where he shuts the door.

“What do you mean? Why would they know where your father is? What are wolves doing with your father, Violet?” Mom asks, interrupting my thoughts with what sounds suspiciously like her panicky, Violet’s-blown-herself-up-again tone.

“Long story,” I say to Mom, too emotionally exhausted to tackle that conversation right this second.

“We left him with Shera, since she’s been staying at our house during Arion’s absence to avoid Emily and Isiah,” Tiara says, managing not to gag on Shera’s name.

I actually feel better knowing he’s in Shera’s hands, rather than theirs. They’d run off and leave him to die because they can’t help themselves, and then they’d be wracked with guilt.