Gypsy Freak

It’s one of those rare moments I decide to take Anna’s terrible advice and do exactly what I want to do, before I even recover from the last stupid thing I did.

My knee slams up hard, connecting just perfectly with his groin, and air heaves from his lungs in a less pleasant, but still very unexpected surprise, visit.

My fist slams across his cheek while I still have him off guard, and I cry out a little, because I think it almost breaks my hand.

“Why is your face so hard?” I shout, whimpering a little as I dance in place and wring my hand like I can shake away the pain.

“For fuck’s sake, Violet. What the actual hell? Are you trying to break your hand?” he snaps, recovering far too quickly as he lifts me and puts me on top of the desk.

Struggling is futile when he easily restrains me and starts examining my hand.

“You’re going to release me from my promise, or you’re going to undo whatever it is you did to me to make me forget when I try to talk,” I say through a pained, strained tone when he runs his fingers over some of the tender sections of my hand.

“Absolutely not,” he says with a shrug. “If you’re going to be violent, don’t make a fist with your thumbs tucked,” he goes on.

He takes my other hand and forces it into a fist, putting my thumb on the outside. “Like this,” he says as I give him an incredulous look.

I hit the guy in the face, and he instructs me how to properly hit someone?

“The nut shot is a ringer no matter how you pull it off, though. You just need more power behind it for longer recovery next time,” he goes on, actually seeming amused. “You held back a little. It was cute.”

His smile falls when the tears waver on the edges of my eyelids.

“I’ll take you to a hospital,” he says like he’s found the source of the tears.

“Remove me from my obligation to you, Arion. You tricked me into it so you could use me. I won’t let you use me again just so I can be whatever pawn you’ve made me be, in order to tape and glue back together your little alpha circle, before you convince them to raise Idun to take my place when I die!” I’m practically shouting by the time I finish my rant, and my entire body is shaking with anger, heartbreak, tears…

A distinct wave of coldness settles into the room, and his expression shuts down as the shutters metaphorically close over his eyes.

“Where did you hear that name?” he asks in an icy tone as he leans forward.

It’s one of those rare times where I’m not afraid, because I know I can’t die. And it’s one of those times where I might not fear panicking either, because at least I could kill him for a little while if he makes me panic. I think. I’d rather not find out, if I’m being honest.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not as stupid as you apparently think I am. Shoving me at them, playing with my head, actually giving me the ridiculous thought that this could be a home for me. Then what? Kill me or wait for me to die so you can unleash whatever monster she is and regenerate the wars?”

One side of his lips tug up, but it’s not exactly in a smile. It’s a dark expression that has me reconsidering the fear aspect, as he gently brushes my cheek with the back of his finger like it’s a warning.

“Violet, the thing with thinking you know what someone else is thinking? It’s a dangerous road to travel. I can assure you that you will never think as I do. As for Idun,” he says, eyes flicking over mine as he leans in closer, lowering his voice, “she can rot for the next thousand years too.”

I roll my eyes, refusing to be gullible with him ever again.

He cups my chin and forces my gaze back to his. A shaky breath rattles out of me when he steps between my legs, forcing them wider apart. Another tendril of fear slithers up my spine when his lips brush mine.

“Trust me when I say I want you. Possibly more now that I’ve finally seen a little fire in you. But save that fire for the appropriate targets, love. I’m not your enemy,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over mine again.

“Fay,” I whisper hoarsely, and he freezes. “Did you—”

“Of course not,” he says, releasing my chin and allowing me to lean back a little.

He grabs my hips and pulls me down on the desk, bringing my body closer to his as he stares down at me, hungrily raking his gaze down to where my legs are spread around his hips.

“I have no interest in sad omega wolves who live in fear. I focus on the ones who would like to see me underground for all eternity. I focus on the ones who don’t understand why alphas are necessary.”

His eyes flick to mine.

“And Idun has no place here. Not now that I’ve seen a much simpler, easier, more reasonable way, sweet gypsy. I only want what we had to sacrifice—the kinship we took for granted before we knew how cold the centuries could be. The loyalty and trust we have between us even now, despite centuries of betrayal. We still know what lines the other won’t cross.”

“In other words, this is so you can all be friends again, and yet I’m not some pawn?” I ask with more bite than he seems to like.

His grip tightens on my waist, staying just shy of painful.

“No, Violet. I went underground wanting a woman to fix everything she broke, because I saw no other way for us to ever exist without the burning, blind fury ever again. Then things changed, and I’ve already explained why.”

His grip loosens, and he cups my chin with a softer touch, tilting my chin up.

“I knew then that Idun had broken us, but she’d never repair us. She’d merely mock us for our pain before causing us more grief, just as she always did,” he goes on, the words getting softer as he invades my space the way he always does, teasing me with the chill of his breath while keeping his lips just a hair’s breadth away.

“But you? You make them almost feel human,” he goes on. “You give them hope. Even Emit, though he’s far more stubborn than I anticipated. You really do have to work harder there.”

My breath of annoyance only causes him to smile.

“There’s that calmer gypsy who thinks before she swings at very dangerous vampires,” he murmurs, nipping my earlobe and causing me to startle just enough to rub up against him.

I’m going to hell. It’s official at this point. I’m blaming him for the vast majority of it, but two burning rejections after sex makes a girl a little vulnerable, and Arion always makes me feel like I’m what he desires.

My head is so fucked right now.

Even though I don’t trust him or even really like him at this point, it’s like I’m drawn to him, and my mind flits to the few glorious weeks he was just Ace.

He groans a little as he starts pushing me down on the desk, and I hate him even more when my legs wind around his waist. I hate him and want him, and everything about him is maddeningly confusing.

I feel both used and desired, and I’m not sure which one I truly am.

“If I could make you immortal, this would all be so much easier,” Arion goes on like those are words of assurance in monster speak, kissing his way down my throat as he starts unbuttoning the front of my shirt.

I don’t even fight him, losing all the anger as his lips continue to work magic against my throat, and I hold on instead of just falling apart.

“So no, Violet, I’m not waiting for your death or conspiring to kill you,” he whispers. “You’re quite literally the only thing giving me hope. Because I’ll bury them all before I go underground again,” he adds, causing my emotions to slip into turmoil again, giving me the whiplash he always does. “And I really don’t want to fucking put them through that.”

I’m not really sure how it happens. Fear and sex are too closely linked when he’s in the room, and he’s the only one who really does this to me. I’m not sure if he kisses me, or if I stupidly kiss him. All I know is that the second our lips touch, it’s like a live wire all over again.

The pulses of energy are almost explosive as I grind against him, and he makes an impatient sound before I hear the remaining buttons on my shirt pop away and rattle in various places around the room.

“How dangerous is your bra right now?” he asks between kissing me and undoing my jeans.

“Extremely,” I answer, hearing him groan as he keeps his weight off my front.

The door flops open, and we both freeze. His eyes hold mine before I jerk my head away, hating how intensely confused I stay in his presence. Then I really tense when I see Shera giving me a terribly angry look, while her red hair rests in disarray on her head. She’s pale, has some dark circles under her eyes, and I think her lip is split.

“You look like shit,” Arion tells her like he’s confused, making no move to step away from me.

“Your girlfriend found you, I see. Just checking to make sure she didn’t get lost, since I got detained and couldn’t come warn you,” she says while glaring at me. After a few seconds of seething silence, she returns her attention to him. “Glad the happy couple is on track.”

She slams the door when she walks back out, and Arion gives me a questioning look as he pushes off me, eyes lingering on my chest as he smirks.

“Feel free to stop by any time, Violet,” he tells me as I quickly pull my shirt shut.

I take the jacket he offers me, shrugging into it, while I idly wonder why I don’t feel dirty. He should make me feel dirty. I was just with Damien, you know, before he turned into an icicle the way Vance did.

All I can think about is the fact Arion’s stopping this instead of me, and it lacks the wrongness this moment should have.

I hop off the desk, and he calls to my back, “You punch me and kiss me, and you’ve yet to tell me what brought all this on. I need to know you truly don’t believe I’m using you to raise Idun.”

I pause in front of the door and turn to look behind me. “Am I under your protection?” I ask.

“Of course you are. Your house is outside of vampire territory; however, it is in town limits and vampires abide by my rule no matter where they are. You’re also under Van Helsing protection. Morrigan protection as well. I’m sure if anyone remembered, they’d also know it’s under Morpheous protection, but Damien doesn’t regularly entertain to give his name enough memory.”

“And that means something? It’s not something to be taken lightly?” I ask, staying on topic.

His expression turns serious. “It’s not something that will ever be taken lightly. Protection is rare. You have it in spades.”

“I just needed to know the omegas are safe,” I say as I exit, slamming the door behind me as I try to cope with the headache Arion always induces with his confusing, complex existence.

Or maybe it’s my confusing, complex existence that causes the headaches. At this point, I’d rather blame sex, since it’s the easy out.

The throbbing in my hand reminds me why punching a vampire in the future might be a horrible idea, and I focus on that instead.