Gypsy Rising
We both blink.
“She does this on purpose just to confuse us. She has the most random things come out of her mouth during really critical moments like this,” I inform the terrified shifter. “We’re not going to kill you. Relax your heartbeat before you somehow hurt the child.”
The woman goes limp almost immediately, and I barely catch her before she crashes to the floor when she faints. Given the weak scent and fainting spell, it’s likely she’s truly an omega.
Violet really fucking loves omegas. Damn this night.
“What about the hotel, Violet?” Vance asks with a little impatience.
“If you’re not going to do anything with it, I was wondering if I could buy it from you.”
Another round of blinks.
“If you want the hotel, you can have it. I was going to use it as a neutral location, but never got around to it,” he tells her.
“It’ll still be neutral. Promise. But I have to buy it. I’d feel indebted to you otherwise. And I know the fair cost based on Tiara’s research—”
“You don’t sound drunk,” Vance notes.
“I’m not drunk. I haven’t had a drink.”
Now I want to watch those videos again with that new knowledge, because no one can be that shamelessly ridiculous while sober.
“Can I buy it from you or is it too important?” she goes on.
“It’s not too important, but I don’t want your money. You won’t have enough for a fair offer, simply due to the location.”
“Sounds interesting,” I butt in. “Know what else is interesting?”
I dramatically gesture to the pregnant debacle we still have on our hands.
He sighs harshly.
“I have the money. I have enough in my bank account for that, and I won’t even have to dig any up,” she tells him, causing me to shake my head, as I stare up at the ceiling.
Priorities are a bit fickle these days, because I thought she was struggling with her finances just a few months ago. This girl…
Vance essentially says aloud what I’m thinking. “When you first came to town, you couldn’t even hire a delivery person. Now you suddenly have enough money to—”
“The money is/was my late grandmother’s money, so I’ve been saving it. She was loaded because she invented some sort of really popular toothbrush design, so I have plenty of money. You don’t just sink a ton of money into a new business. You work it up until it’s paying for itself so it doesn’t become a financial drain.”
Vance opens his mouth, then closes it, and then opens again.
“That’s why you made toothpaste,” he says like he’s solved a very important puzzle.
“It definitely gave me the idea,” she states as the music in the background gets louder for a second, before dulling again, as though someone has left or entered the room she’s in.
“Whenever someone asks you about it, you always say how you came to make toothpaste isn’t an interesting story,” he argues.
“Took five seconds for you to figure it out on your own from one sentence. I don’t think that constitutes it as being very interesting,” she deadpans. “Can I buy the hotel for my new tribe?”
Vance releases a breath, as he continues to stare at the downed shifter.
“You can’t keep them, Violet,” he tells her gently. “They belong to Idun, and she’ll have it no other way.”
“I’ve got all that covered. Can I buy it or not?”
“Of course you can buy it. I want to give it to you. But you can’t—”
“Mary is going to send over the formal paperwork via email and get a date set for the closing. Thank you,” she says sweetly. “And be careful while hunting Idun.”
She hangs up after that, and Vance stares down at his phone.
“This day just keeps getting worse. Violet’s already too attached to them,” he groans.
“We’ll deal with that later. What about the pregnant shifter who knows too damn much?” I ask him, my patience fraying.
He pauses like a thought has just occurred to him. “You always carry around a portrait of Idun in your pocket?”
Un-fucking-believable. He’s so distracted and unfocused that his mind can’t stay trained on the problem at hand.
“I carry around a portrait of the necklace. Did you not hear me when I said how hard it was to even get the stone’s impossibly-hard-to-recreate-details that close? And the portrait is damage-proof to withstand time, so it’s not as though I could hack her face off like a lovesick pup after a hard break.”
His phone rings again, while the woman in the floor remains unattended.
“Violet?” he asks into the phone, turning his back on me again.
“Yeah, me again. Sorry. But this time I do need an actual favor, since you’re the pilot with all the girl-named planes. I sort of need to get a lot of people overseas. Is it okay if I call your hangar and work something out?”
“Idun will nest in Shadow Hills, so it’s not like they won’t be coming over anyway,” I remind him, since he wanted to argue this earlier.
“Yes. Of course,” he tells her all too easily, despite his earlier objections. “Pay me in apples for that one.”
I’m starting to think he can’t deny her directly. The prideful Van Helsing is fucking whipped. I’ll mock him for it later, and settle for grinning about it now.