Gypsy Freak (All The Pretty Monsters #2)(21)

“He spent his mortal life as the outsider of the family because he was a bastard, and now he’s the only one of us who gets remembered. Even you’ll forget me if you go too long without my presence near,” he goes on, confusing me. “Only the alphas remain unaffected by that curse and can remember me when I’m not in their presence for long periods of time. He enjoys when people forget me. Loves it, even. Loves it when any of us are forgotten, and now he’s father’s favorite because he’s the only one of us who still has any fame to his name. He’s what keeps us relevant at all, which is important to Father.”

“Minor fame. Not everyone knows about Dorian Gray. Even I had to look all that up,” I point out, causing his lips to twitch. “I wasn’t kidding when I said one of you stalking me is enough. Orgies aren’t my thing, and that seems to be what he’s most well known for.”

Again, his lips twitch. “Take care of the wolf,” he adds before picking the pockets of his jacket, retrieving an orange and a mirror I never felt when I checked the pockets earlier.

“This orange is a gift from you now and not from Arion. Agreed?”

I have no idea what that means, but I shrug, since it’s the least random thing from the night. “Whatever.”

I keep his jacket on as I hop out, mostly because it’s surprisingly warm, despite the fact it’s a simple, thin blazer.

He’s dropped me off just a few feet from the front steps of the House of Morrigan. Considering I have what I assume is Emit’s blood on my toga now, I see no reason to bother knocking.

However, I regret just walking in when I see about five—make that six—half naked women fawning over Emit, tending his wounds while he stares at the ceiling. Wait…it’s back down to five. Was there really a sixth woman?

Shaking out of my distraction, my gaze returns to Emit. He’s lying on the tile floor, jaw grinding like he’s still furious, as they clean him up.

Why exactly did I come here? I’m not really sure at this point.

“How do you know Arion?” he bites out, eyes never meeting mine.

“If I start talking about it, I’ll start forgetting. Since I just remembered everything, I think I’ll keep the details to myself,” I answer, looking around uncomfortably when all the women swing their suspicious gazes toward me.

“I should…go,” I state awkwardly, wishing I had my phone so I could call Damien—of all people—to come back and get me.

“No. You shouldn’t,” he bites out. “Arion clearly wants to get his hands on you, likely for the same reason we all do—”

“Which is?” I interrupt, my eyes narrowing.

He makes a sound of annoyance, as though he’s still partially a wolf and is an angry fella.

One woman deliberately stares at me while gently stroking his chest with a wet cloth.

Fortunately, the door opens and Vance steps in. My entire body relaxes, but the confused, stunned expression on his face when he sees me lets me know he also thinks I shouldn’t be here.

“You’re still wearing my sheet,” is what he says first, and then shakes his head as he comes over to me, his gaze flicking around the room at all the women tending Emit’s wounds.

“When were you going to tell me he rose?” Emit asks, eyes still on the ceiling.

I glance up at the ceiling, and for the first time, I see a very colorful mural on the tall, arched section above him.

My head tilts, and I try to make sense of all the apple trees with rotten apples that seem to be the focal point of the painting. Wolves are circling the painting, and I swear I see them actually moving when I stare for too long.

I blink out of the trance when Vance releases a heavy sigh and takes a seat near me.

“We need to talk,” he tells Emit.

“Why didn’t you tell me he rose?” Emit snaps again, this time his eyes leveling Vance.

“We need to talk,” is all Vance replies, his eyes drifting from one woman to the next.

Emit sits up, and he gestures over to me, as the women await his instruction.

“Why does he know her?”

Vance says nothing, and I look around, still wondering why I just figured I’d be needed. It’s silly, really. I don’t know Emit, other than our cookie interlude and the time I left him behind to chase my threads.

I also now remember the fact he was a busy man when I needed someone to come save me…from the vampire I agreed to go on a date with tomorrow.

How is this my life?

“To beat it all, he actually acted like he was defending her from me at one point,” Emit drones on.

Vance’s eyes do a quick sweep of the women, who now have a much deeper interest in me. Just great.

Emit finally glances around when Vance’s jaw starts to tic, and he curses while gesturing for them to go. The unspoken request has all of them walking out of the room, and I decide to try to slip out the door.

I won’t key Vance’s car after stealing it.

“Stick around, Violet. We need to talk,” Emit says, lips twitching, just as I get a hand on the door.

Groaning, I move over to where Vance is, and I sit down on the edge of the chair next to him.

Vance leans over, sniffing at me. “You’re in Damien’s jacket.”

“It’s been a long night,” I say on a tired sigh.