Gypsy Freak (All The Pretty Monsters #2)(46)

“I’ll call you next Tuesday to check in,” I say as he gets in.

He tosses me a thumbs-up and drives off.

The omegas flew to Vegas yesterday because Lemon thinks she has a lucky streak in her. Vance is decidedly avoiding me. Damien is missing the one time I’d really like for absolutely anyone to be here.

Instead of feeling pathetic all alone in my house, I grab my keys, wrap up in the warmest jacket I can find, and pretend I know more people.

After just wandering around the town for a few hours, watching everything close up as my fingers turn numb, I finally go to the small diner at the edge of town and sit down.

A drunken crowd is toasting, swearing they saw a ghost in the cemetery, and I glance around, wondering if any ghosts are around to hear them. I’d make eye contact, but apparently I’m nuclear to ghosts and killed my one true friend who’d be here with me right now.

I’ve yet to process all of it yet.

“Ready to order?” Elise, my waitress, asks with a smile of trained patience.

“I don’t suppose you have bourbon here, do you?”

She gives me an apologetic but are-you-for-real shake of her head.

“Two coffees and a small slice of pie, please.”

She toddles off, and I glance down, seeing I wandered around for longer than I realized, since it’s almost midnight now.

I dig around in my jacket, finding my candle, listening as the drunken crowd starts singing a very familiar, very little known song about gypsy pride. The same song my mother sang. The same one Arion sang.

Why are they singing it?

They slap their glasses together over their heads in a cheerful toast once they finish the song, and I blink away from the distraction when Elise puts down the two coffees and slice of pie.

When she walks away, I stick in my candle. I’m fumbling around, looking for that lighter I brought, when someone slides into the booth across from me.

I glance up, seeing Vance staring at my pie with a pitying expression on his face. “This is possibly the saddest thing I’ve seen in a while,” he states flatly.

I pull out my candle and pocket it, bristling a little. “It wasn’t sad until I had a witness,” I grumble.

The rowdy crowd starts singing the creepy jingle of the downtown tourist shop, and I realize they must be pedaling the Gypsy Pride song there as well.

“I’ve looked all over for you. Would it be so bad for you to just make it a general rule to want to be found by a Van Helsing unless you simply don’t want to be found? Looking the hard way is far more tedious than I remember,” he says as he starts fixing the coffee across from me. “Am I taking someone’s seat?”

I glance down, seeing it’s one minute before my birthday.

“I was going to have bourbon on my birthday and pour a glass for Anna. But they don’t have bourbon here,” I explain. “So I got coffee instead.”

He stops, sighs, and shakes his head.

“I didn’t ask you to come judge me. Why have you been looking for me?” I ask, admittedly growing increasingly defensive the longer he stares at me like I’m the most pathetic person he’s ever known.

“I’m afraid you don’t really get to spend your birthday alone, because you’ve allowed Damien to be in your life,” he says as he guzzles his coffee and stands.

Elise stops back by, and he hands her some money, as she stares at him and fans herself with her order pad.

“Oh. This must be coffee number two,” she says with a sigh. “You should bring him more often.”

“My phone hasn’t rang,” I decide to tell him as he quickly guides me out, leaving Elise behind, while she continues to gape.

He really does leave an impression on women.

“Phones aren’t working. There’s an electrical surge in the air tonight. The spirits are riled because it’s almost the death night of this town,” he says by way of explanation. “Happens every year about this time, and it’ll be an annoying couple of weeks with the electricity too.”

That’s not good. I’ll need to salt the house.

“My phone is working. it’s—”

“It’s not working, Violet. Trust me. But we need to go,” he says as he opens his door, glancing at his watch.

Then he quickly leans over and kisses my forehead like we’re childhood friends…

“Happy birthday,” he adds a little uncomfortably, before walking around to his side.

I get in, wondering how we went from that day in Damien’s room to kissing my forehead and hunting me down for a party…after radio silence. And men gripe about women sending mixed signals.

“Why is Damien throwing a—”

“It was going to be a surprise party, but then you surprised us by disappearing right as the snow picked back up. I swear it smells like you’ve been in every part of town today. It made finding you surprisingly difficult,” he answers as he drives us toward Damien’s.

“Who’s going to be at this party?” I ask instead of explaining just how pathetically I wandered around town, hoping to bump into someone semi-familiar.

Including him…

Nope. Can’t bring myself to confess that aloud.

Hell no.

“Possibly everyone but vampires,” he says by way of answering my nearly forgotten question.