Gypsy Freak (All The Pretty Monsters #2)(42)

Two betas always butt heads. I tried warning her.

“Our objective is to maintain peace,” she says with a modicum of calm. “I think the four alphas of this region having a calm, collective gathering at Arion’s party is a good idea.”

“Four?” I ask her, a little annoyed. “Damien is supposed to be taking Violet home.”

“Violet is perfectly capable of driving herself. She danced like an idiot around monsters without a care in the world. I’d say she’s a big girl,” Shera states sharply, and a little pointedly.

“Do you want me to stab you with a pencil too?” I ask her, holding up my fun new weapon.

It’d break on a sternum, but it’d still hurt real good.

She gives me a dry look, and returns her attention to Isiah. “We’re leaving now.” She urges him toward the door, while turning to eye me, before mouthing, “Behave.”

The look she shoots me makes her favor my sister too much, and I shudder.

The second they’re out of the room, I let my smile fall, and I immediately call Violet’s number.

“Yes?” she asks with a small, odd sound that almost resembles a reluctant laugh, and my lips curve in a grin.

“Hello?” she asks, getting quiet.

I’m content to listen to the background noise, pausing when I hear the sound of a very masculine snore. Her father, I presume, since Shera said he showed up unannounced, to the best she could gather.

That means she’s home safely, but Damien is supposed to fucking be there to ensure she stays safe. They’re careless with her, and it drives me insane.

“I really don’t have room for another monster in my life, so I hope you’re just a normal guy,” she says to me, confusing me, until the line goes dead and I realize it’s not me she was talking to.

I pull back my phone and stare at it for a second.

That’s not okay.

Did I not make it clear about the part where she only gets us? Perhaps I should have gotten it in writing, but I know I made it clear she needed to work on the other three before me. Not some other fucking— The door flies open, and I look up as Emit, Damien, and Vance stroll into the room.

“Did I or did I not tell you to take Violet home?” I ask Damien.

He gives me a bored look before taking a seat. “Easily forgotten I may be, but I still don’t think I should be left out of this conversation.”

“You and I have yet to have our conversation. Vance and Emit have already made their feelings quite clear,” I state through strain, desperately resisting the urge to go see what wanker has somehow landed himself in Violet’s home.

I give both, the silversmith and the wolf, a pointed look.

Vance glares at me.

“Beating Vance’s ass makes your vampires bolder. Careful, Arion. You’ll have all that beta drama you like to mock me for. We’ll see how easy it is for you to kill off your favorites when they push back,” Emit tells me, eyes on mine.

“My heart wasn’t in it,” Vance lies, glancing idly around the room like he’s not overly impressed with the modern improvements.

“Still a pompous prick, I see. Tell me, did you wear a blood shirt tonight or not? That’ll speak of your intentions,” I drawl.

His lips tug at one corner of his mouth as he pockets his hands.

“And as for my favorites, I push back much harder. They know it. Unlike yours,” I go on, eyes back on the weak wolf. “It’s a matter of time before you realize it, old friend.”

“Careful with that word. Let’s not confuse burying the past once again for forgiveness, and certainly not for friendship,” the predictable wolf says in a quiet, warning tone.

“What half-cocked plan was it to allow two packs of yours to come onto my land and attack me in my home?” I ask him, watching as he bristles. “If Violet hadn’t been there, there would have been no other out for me but to kill them. You put me in these positions, and you expect me to cower the way you do so often. Then you hate me when I act like the monster I am,” I add in just as quiet of a tone.

“You used Violet as an out?” Damien scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re toying with her for one reason, and you used the situation to your advantage.”

“Violet is the sweet gypsy I can get at any time. She’s young, easily charmed, and incredibly lonely. I mean, Vance got her into bed.”

They all narrow their eyes on me, and I smirk.

“Oh, you can all stalk her, but I can’t?” I ask in a droll tone that has Damien cracking his neck to the side.

“Her ghost friend Anna was dying, and she used Violet’s body for one last day of feeling human,” Vance tells me like he’s talking down to me.

“Anna died?” I ask, heaving out a groan.

Damien studies me for a second before nodding.

“Wasn’t that her only friend?” I ask on a tired sigh.

It’s not as though they’ll guess my impossible secret.

“She’s taken up with Emit’s omegas while she pauses the pain. It’s something she does—pauses her emotions. Apparently she was raised not to mourn, fear, be angry, or have any powerful emotion for too long or it could get her killed,” Vance says, clucking his tongue as he looks down and picks a piece of lint off his sleeve.