Gypsy Freak (All The Pretty Monsters #2)(35)



“So just tell me how to stop the curse and leave me out of your plight. Win/win.”

“Not quite,” he says tightly. “I’m afraid you actually have to care about us enough to really want the curse to stop. You’re very likely related to at least one of the semi-immortal council members, which means you could appeal to that one on our behalf when the moment comes. I’m sure it’s going to take a bit to reach that point of concern.”

“Got it,” I say as I step back.

He frowns when I move away from him, putting a little distance between us.

“You’re not going to kill me because you need to use me. The other vampires aren’t going to hurt me because you managed to rise two years early and beat up a Van Helsing and a werewolf alpha on your first week out of the box, and I’m your date.”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” he says as he narrows his eyes.

“I’m going to go dance now and drink. A lot. I think it’s the only way I’m going to be able to deal with the fact you’re determined to use me like tape and glue to your boy’s club…because I’m on information overload.”

With that, I turn and walk out into the rave. This time, vampires shuffle out of my way, and no one steps on me, as I move to the center of the dance floor, let the music hum through me, poke my ass out, and…dance like no one can see me.





Chapter 15





VANCE


Relief courses through me when I finally spot Violet stalking through the rave. Predictably, everyone moves out of her way.

Arion was supposed to have to battle for his position. Instead, it’s still Emit fighting all his betas and Arion is sitting prettily back at the top of the vampire chain with no opposition, because he rose early.

All the whispers of mutiny have certainly tamped down at this party he threw himself to prove to everyone he’s still the monster no one wants to face.

Unbelievable.

Emit will be in a rage for years to come about this turn of events.

My thoughts immediately turn back to Violet when she weirdly sticks her rear way out, and starts…I’m not really sure what she’s doing. Is she hopping? No, she’s moving to a rhythm of some sort, but certainly not the music.

Never mind; there’s no rhythm at all. Just random writhing that has me cringing, even as I smile at the absurdity of whatever it is she mistakenly thinks she’s doing out there.

The vampires try to stare, but cut their gazes away because they’re likely worried Arion is testing them. You don’t stare at your alpha’s date for the evening, no matter how lovely or…ridiculous they look.

My phone vibrates, and I answer it without ever taking my eyes off the one gypsy I’ve met who doesn’t have any rhythm.

“Yes?” I say by way of greeting Damien, who has apparently given up trying to get me to respond to his texts.

“For fuck’s sake, have you found her yet?” he gripes.

“Yes,” I say with a confused grin when she starts doing some slow spin with an up-and-down motion…that has more people shuffling out of her way.

“What’s she doing?”

“Do you know those old washing machine agitators that moved the clothes around?” I ask him dryly.

“Why the hell are you asking me about washing machines?”

“Because that’s what she’s doing right now. Moving like one of those agitators…without the rhythm.”

He goes quiet, possibly trying to picture that for himself.

“Why?” he finally asks.

“I think she’s dancing,” I answer unsurely as she starts flailing her arms and singing along with the music.

I assume she’s singing; I can’t hear anything over the obnoxious music below, but her lips are moving with the words. I perch on the balcony railing, getting more comfortable as my gaze rakes over her with even more curiosity.

“All gypsies can dance,” he’s quick to rebut. “It’s one of the better stereotypes that I actually don’t mind because of how true it is.”

“Not this gypsy,” I say, finding myself smiling as the weird triplets suddenly appear…and quickly disappear like they don’t want to be seen with her.

I need to talk to those lucid ghosts about what Anna told me.

Violet starts doing some hip-thrust maneuver that I can’t believe I snort at.

“Are you laughing right now?” Damien asks like he can’t believe his ears.

My laughter quickly tapers off when I see a familiar face in the crowd. The prat below gradually works his way toward Violet, the only one brave enough to do so.

“Dorian is here,” I tell Damien.

He goes unnaturally silent for a chilling beat before responding. “Send him back off to find his rogue turner.”

Dorian runs a hand through his hair, putting on his practiced smile, as he approaches Violet.

“I need to go.”

“Why the hell are you going? I want—”

“He’s speaking to Violet.”

The line goes dead, and I start toward the edge of the balcony, straining my hearing, even as the music hurts them when I do. I barely catch a bit of their conversation when he tells her his name.

“Oh! Sorry! I can’t talk to you,” Violet tells him before turning and walking off, confusing him and me.

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