Gypsy Rising

I’ve stood still hundreds of thousands of times, and never once felt like I missed anything. My eyes fall down to Violet, as she prompts me to start moving.

“Who the fucking hell hit my car?” Dorian shouts, jerking his gaze around.

“Don’t carry me, Van Helsing. Cameras are rolling. I need to walk away,” Violet says as she puts her hand on my chest, stilling me from lifting her.

“How much more will you punish me today, Violet? How many apologies will it take to ever fix all this?” I ask her quietly, my jaw tensing, as the weight just presses me down farther.

“This isn’t about you,” she says like she wishes I understood that.

I stare at her for a moment before I finally nod, letting her use me like a crutch, even though I do subtly and unnoticeably use my grip to lift some of her weight off the leg she’s dragging.

My jaw tenses as bile rises to my throat, but I swallow it all back, not fucking making it about me, as Damien’s new SUV pulls to a stop in front of us.

The suspicious lad from earlier hops out and runs around to open the back door for Violet. “Ms. Carmine, I hope you don’t mind if I drive instead of Anna this time. Or would it offend her?” he asks, looking around.

“Anna’s not here, you prat. Who the hell are you?” I ask as I lift Violet into the seat too quickly for anyone to notice and shut the door.

He jogs around to the driver’s door and hops in, and I take the seat behind him and next to Violet, as I narrow my eyes.

“Talbot Lane. I’m Damien’s new favorite beta.”

“Damien took you on already?” Violet asks like this is the time to be genuinely interested in anyone other than herself.

“Not yet, but I’m exceedingly arrogant, so I’ve already given myself the job. Be seeing you around some then, eh, Ms. Carmine?”

I pause, realizing I’ve been so distracted I missed the scent in the car. Damien taps my shoulder like he knows I’ve just caught on to the fact they’re in here.

Violet remains oblivious, as Damien drops the illusion to my eyes only. Talbot drives us on.

Violet glances around like she’s checking to see if anyone is nearby.

“Talbot Lane, I need you to pull over and get out. Walk around for about five minutes, please,” Violet tells him.

I sit up straighter, expecting her to have something to say to me in private, as he does as instructed without argument.

The second he’s gone, her mask slips for the first time, and tears spring to her eyes, as she stops pretending, doubling over. She sucks back a pained sob. Arion bites down on his fist. Violet never makes more than a smothered cry of pain, rocking back and forth, as she leans her head toward me.

“I’m sorry. I’m not punishing you, but that metal has to come out of my head, and I can’t get it with the threads,” she says on a choked, pained whisper. “I don’t have it in me to pretend to be a badass right now.”

Damien gags and looks away, swallowing down any sound, as Emit’s eyes burn with wolf color, when I glance down to the battered back of her head, noticing the blood matting her hair. The heartless vampire in the front passenger seat even cuts his gaze away like he can’t stomach it.

Little threads from the stitches have opened on the back of her head and are trying to wiggle a piece of rusted metal free. The damage is…killing me.

Trying not to react, I touch just the tip of the rusty metal, turning it back to Van Helsing silver so that it will come out more smoothly. She makes a few pained sounds, her hand gripping my leg, as I manage to work it out. Then she just exhales in relief as I toss it outside, watching it turn back to rust, just so I have an excuse to look away.

“Will you get out for a second now?” Violet asks me, drawing my attention back, as she fights to keep the pain out of her expressions.

“Violet, let me—”

“My leg is healing backwards, so I have to re-break it and turn it back around. It’s going to be painful, and I need just a moment to be weak before I get home and put on a brave face for everyone who needs to see it,” she says very seriously, as her eyes water with unshed tears. “Apparently you need the brave face too, and I just…I just can’t. One minute to be weak, Vance. Please.”

I shove out the door, slamming it behind me, as I run a frustrated hand through my hair. Her little cry of pain precedes bones breaking and a scream behind tight lips.

I look back to see her head down, hands still on her freshly straightened leg, as her body shakes with her silent sobs.

Talbot returns, not batting an eye, as he moves past me to the driver’s side.

Violet looks up, tears dried and face painted with a smile. It’s been a long time since I struggled with tears. Tears are a weakness I eradicated very early on as a mortal lad.

But today, I find myself weakened too. Since I have no other choice, I manage to recover myself, before getting into the backseat again.

“So, Ms. Carmine, can I ask for a favor?” Talbot asks from the driver’s seat.

“Really?” I ask the sniveling little incubus in the front seat, whose neck I’d wring if not for the fact Violet would be upset by it right now.

“Sure,” Violet tells him, as she closes her eyes, the bruises on her body becoming more pronounced, interrupted by strings of stitching without her trademark satin.