Gypsy Truths

Vance, dressed in his exceptionally well-fitted suit that is actually trimmed in the same material as my dress, also interjects.

“Shera, I realize you’re the best vampire beta Arion could have. However, large numbers of betas out there have been stewing in resentment and other bitter emotions for centuries. They want a fight. They want a fight that has purpose and showcases their power. We’re monsters. We get that. If it’ll aide in finally laying to rest some of these tensions, then it may be the one good thing Idun did while she was out of the ground.”

She nods, still smiling tightly.

“If I was a freakishly strong beta, I’m sure I’d agree,” she says with some very notable ire.

Poor Shera.

She’d punch me for pitying her, so I keep my sympathy to myself.

“Regardless, I’ve turned over the reins to your new beta. Good luck with that. Call me when he fucks it all up, and I’ll see what I can do to sort it out for you,” Shera says to Arion, who grins at her.

“Thank you, Shera.”

Arion moves quickly, and Shera trembles, as he grabs her arm and flips it over in front of him. She relaxes when his claw shoots out, much to my confusion.

Seems now would be the time to tense.

His claw presses into her wrist, and a tiny trickle of blood begins to drip as he drags the sharp tip down her wrist for two or three inches. Then he makes another line that intersects with that one in a X formation.

Tears brim her eyes, but she clears her throat and keeps the waterworks at bay.

“I release you to Emily in good standing, good faith, and full honor. You’re a damn good beta, Shera,” Arion tells her.

She nods, even as her eyes water a little more.

“Damn right I am. You’re going to miss me, because your new head beta doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. You’ll probably spend more time stabbing him with pencils than anything else,” she carries on, primly glancing around to deliberately avoid Arion’s gaze.

Arion’s grin stays fixed on his face, as he releases a long breath.

“They don’t remember why the trials were nixed. They haven’t seen how strong they’re not. For now, everyone’s full of themselves and ready for a fight. They’re looking to make a name for themselves in a time where war has been mostly obsolete,” Vance tells her. “Give it time. A few centuries, and they’ll be humbled by a few freakishly powerful betas. Then they’ll crave more merit than strength. Promise.”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Emit says like he’s reassuring her.

Shera only nods again, visibly struggling to keep those persistent tears at bay. She gives me a look that says more than words could right now, which is good, because it seems like she’s talked all she’s going to be able to.

I give her a small smile. “You really are a damn good beta. Thank you for making Sanctuary possible. Hopefully, you’ll come back one day. Goodbyes seem irrelevant, since we’re going to be around for all eternity.”

“Says a weird freak girl who can’t die,” she fires back, losing some of the water in her eyes.

“Just avoid pointy wooden objects or losing your head, and you won’t die either,” I volley.

Her lips turn up in an almost appreciative smile, but she stows it and gives me a glare.

“Try not to turn my alpha into a joke in my absence. Also, try not to piss off any other all-powerful beings, unless you learn how to fight. And try to learn how to dance. Arion likes dancing, and he can’t be made a fool in front of the other vampires—”

“Seriously, Shera, you’re starting to sound like some of my human mothers would have if they’d been dealing with vampire stuff,” Arion butts in, staring at her with some mild horror.

“Sorry, boss,” Shera says, while swallowing back the rest of the words, while I refrain from smiling.

A horn blows, and Shera leans over to pick up her suitcase.

“Is that Talbot Lane?” Arion asks with some incredulity, drawing my attention to the driver of the car that’s idling at the curb.

Talbot smirks at us and gives us a little wave.

“H-he was already heading in that direction to look into some succubae disappearances. He’s just dropping me off,” Shera says very quickly.

Too quickly.

She spins on her heel and walks away like there’s a fire after her, but she’s still too proud to run.

Arion seems to buy it. Damien rolls his eyes. Vance and Emit have lost interest and are engaged in a conversation about a sword technique Vance is in the midst of creating.

A smile curves my lips when Vance absently reaches out, his fingers touching mine. Emit makes a seemingly unconscious move to let his fingers rest at my side, just barely touching me.

Arion moves to be behind me, and his cold fingers graze my throat when he moves my hair to the side to expose the marks he left behind when he made me his bride.

They’re scars that won’t heal.

Just like Emit’s claw marks on my back.

Just like Damien’s marks on my wrists.

Just like the marks on all their hands…

“What’s on your mind, sweet monster?” Emit asks, his hand coming up to cup my chin.

All their eyes are on me, and I don’t know if there will ever come a day when that isn’t a little intimidating.

“We’re bound together, for possibly most or all of eternity. I’m still not sure what that means, but I’m looking forward to finding out, instead of worrying about what could go wrong,” I tell them, feeling my stupid, somewhat embarrassing smile spread.

“You, January Violet Carmine, are not worried about something or someone?” Vance asks me in a disbelieving tone.

“No plans to completely uproot a system and change all the rules to suit your softer nature in another society?” Damien asks, being a dick.

He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows, proving he thinks he’s cute and funny.

“No. I’ll stick to the monster society. Any idea when Sanctuary may actually fill up? Is it a good sign that not many new applications have started pouring in?”

“I thought you weren’t worrying,” Arion drawls, grinning next to my ear. “I mean, you’re not an established alpha, so it’s not your concern.”

“I’m not going to be an established alpha, and don’t talk about that here. Someone might overhear,” I remind him very seriously.

They still don’t actually take me seriously.

I’m starting to think first impressions really do last forever, because not much has changed about how they see me. Other than the fact they now think it’s hilarious to dupe me in some form or fashion.

Fair’s fair, I guess.

“Could you look more like a barbarian?” Arion asks Emit, shooting a condescending look at the long stretch of fur that is covering Emit’s middle.

“Could you look more like a vampire?” Emit fires back, giving an equal condescending look at the vampire’s gothic ensemble.

“Remember the part where you swore to be romantic all day?” I butt in, interrupting whatever Arion was about to say back. “Absolutely none of you are doing that,” I add, just so they’re clear.

Damien’s smile spreads wide, and Arion’s mimics his. I hate it when they do creepy stuff in unison.