Gypsy Rising

In the next instant, Arion is across the room, and a surprised breath rattles our ears, as Damien and I both dart our gazes over.

The vampire is as fast as the skin walker these days, it seems.

Idun is pinned to the wall with Arion’s claws tightly gripping her neck. His lips are curled back, as his fangs extend, and the red in his otherwise fully black eyes isn’t caged this time.

Idun looks as surprised by it as I feel.

She recovers quickly, giving him her smug, self-assured little smile. “I just came to inform the resident Van Helsing that I’ve returned and my punishment for overstepping a petty little line has been concluded. I’ll not be punished farther, Vampyre.”

“There are three other infractions we’ve discovered. Careful how you tread, or I’ll punish you for those as well,” I tell her as I stand, effectively blocking the empty bed from her view.

In truth, Damien is just masking both he and Violet from plain view.

I almost worry I’m going to have to pull Arion back when the red in his eyes grows. Idun swallows thickly, eyes more on him than me for the first time ever.

“Easy, Arion. Don’t overstep,” I caution him. “If your Violet’s monster, listen to me.”

He doesn’t release her, but he also doesn’t try removing her vulnerable neck between his claws either.

It’s a pointless endeavor that will only spur vicious retaliation.

She really can’t smell the blood in this room. Arion wasn’t lying. Her nose is as pointless as Violet’s.

It’s just one of her best kept secrets that exposes one more weakness I didn’t know I could extort.

“Unless you’re choosing a side right now, I strongly suggest releasing me,” she says in a cold tone to Arion.

The wild-eyed vampire simply smirks. “I choose Violet’s side. You’re the one who quickly forced the issue.”

The casual way he says it makes it sound like a meaningless confession. However, the air is sucked out of the room.

Idun can’t keep the utter shock off her face. Arion’s lips turn up in a menacing grin, his eyes narrowing on her, as though he’s savoring this moment.

“Instead of picking my battles, I’ll simply be Violet’s monster. Eventually, she’ll be my bride. And you, Idun? I’ll make you dance like a puppet on strings by the time I’m finished with you. I know all your secrets,” he says, foolishly taunting her, as the red in his eyes deepens and his voice grows into a hiss.

Idun doesn’t shrink back, but it’s clear she’d like some immediate space between herself and the loyal vampire servant, who has finally growled at its shit master.

“You were always a volatile beast, Arion. Cutting ties to you will only aide in making me whole again. In this era, I need to be softer, it seems. That will take some work. And you and I will be one less toxic relationship I have to suffer through, while catching all the blame for our wrongs together,” she states sourly.

Arion’s smirk slips, and I see the way the red in his eyes shuts down. He releases her abruptly, the black in his eyes receding as well.

Idun gives him a dubious look, before returning her attention to me, her gaze immediately softening.

“She always did favor the shining silversmith,” Arion tells me through a tight expression, as he goes to drop onto the bed.

As if Damien feels like antagonizing her as well, the illusion drops, revealing himself and Violet, just as our fully-healed little monster unconsciously turns over, sliding her leg over Arion’s hip, searching him out in her sleep.

Idun’s pupils try to dilate, and I see her struggle to keep her composure. I expect Arion to be smirking and enjoying her inconvenient moment of jealousy, but his attention is solely on Violet, as he brushes her hair down around her face and curves an arm around her waist.

Damien is behind her, gingerly stroking her back as he leans forward to kiss her shoulder.

Idun won’t know she’s in a weakened state right now. The less curious she is about Violet, the better.

“I heard this era was more brazen and loose with sexual deviance. I bet it’s delightful to finally be taking advantage,” Idun says to Damien.

He smirks as he stares at her, not saying anything.

“You can look at me with all the disdain and hatred in the world. You can rebel and act like children who don’t know what the real world is truly like. You can play house with the sweet, na?ve little girl who tickles your easily persuaded fancy,” she continues, flicking her gaze around the room. “But at the end of the day, she’ll never love you at your worst. And eventually, you’ll all return to your worst. I can patiently wait for the new to wear off. I won’t be provoking the silly little thing anymore. You have my word.”

Damien’s head tips back, and he outright laughs.

Violet’s certainly a little more accepting of our worst than Idun, but Idun doesn’t quite understand that. Yet. She thinks our worst is rebelling against her desperate, sadistic need for control.

“Glad to see you’ve graciously matured,” Idun states dryly. In flawless Romanian, with her very memorable accent and her silky, smooth, enchanting voice, she sings, “Sing gypsies, sing of your lies.”

“She knows of our lies. She knows of our truths. She knows of all our many flaws,” Arion drawls.

Her lips twist in a very telling grin. “But do they know of your lies, Arion? Did no one bother to find out what secret he’s made the na?ve girl keep?” Idun muses, eyes directly on mine.