Gypsy Truths
“He’s too pathetically weak if he’s still being manipulated by her,” Arion grinds out. “Don’t make excuses for him.”
I feel them all turn an incredulous glare on the vampire petting me.
“Can I tear his head off?” Arion asks next to my ear. “Or will that offend your sensitive nature?”
It certainly interrupts the intense stare-down between myself and Idun, which they all seem oblivious to.
My life is too complicated.
Another scream tears through the arena, and Damien looks away from Dorian, his eyes fluttering shut, as Dorian’s scream tapers off.
Dorian’s eyes stay open, but it’s as though the life inside him leaves. Vance tenses next to us, and Emit makes a sound in his throat, as he drops his gaze. I notice Damien’s father stands and turns to stalk out, not looking behind him, as he shakes his head.
“He never sticks around long. Damien makes him relive their past too often. Every single time he has to punish Dorian,” Zuela says, likely for my benefit, to explain the happenings around me.
“What’d he do to Dorian?” I ask, since even Idun seems taken aback by the limp, motionless, glazed-eyed man, who is still lying on the ground.
Damien stands, lifts some card from the ground, and tosses it on Dorian’s back.
“I’m still Head of my House. If anyone from my family enters Sanctuary without my direct consent, or without my escort, you’ll be punished just as severely,” Damien says with a sneer, glaring over at the seats where his father was. “Spread the fucking word.”
He glances over at us, holds my gaze for a long moment, and my heart breaks again. Damien’s the guy who makes jokes about himself and is openly pathetic.
I’ve never seen him so angry before.
He stares for a moment longer, and Arion holds me back when I try to go to him. When Damien cuts his gaze away, he heads out the door in front of him, and my gaze bounces back to Idun.
She’s giving me a look that screams, I’m going to destroy you.
I’m not sure why, but this is the most pissed she’s seemed yet. In the next beat, she blurs out of sight, a door slamming in her wake.
“Damien’s just given Dorian the ultimate punishment among his people. It’s possible Dorian may not ever pry his way out of his own mind, unless Damien left him at least one way out,” Vance says like he’s explaining something I should understand.
“He’s stuck reliving his entire life on a loop, trapped inside his own head. Just like the Van Helsings, when the Portocale curse strikes,” Zuela says as though he’s lost inside his own thoughts.
My gaze darts to Vance, who bristles and shoots his father a glare for saying that so casually.
Even Arion tenses.
Zuela exhales harshly. “Dorian’s life has been a cruel one to have to relive at this point.”
“Damien’s never bestowed this punishment on anyone in his family, because he’s privately tended to me numerous times when I’ve been downed by the Portocale curse,” Vance says. “He knows how bad it is for me, and I’ve been a much better monster than Dorian.”
I know that’s a hard admission for him, because he looks away, his entire body tensing. Unlike the others, Vance really does try exceptionally hard to do everything right.
There’s just no such thing as doing everything right, because right and wrong is a matter of perspective, based on the majority vote.
They’ve lived a really, really long time. They’re monsters for a reason.
This day started out so promising.
Four boys were in my bed and mending the heart I thought was broken. It took me a second to realize I was just hurting. Not breaking.
I’ve never been good at relationships. Jerome was just good at being a boyfriend, I’m realizing. It’s me who sucks.
Oh shit. Jerome! I forgot all about him! When did he leave?
Damn it, I’ll put a pin in that for now.
I exhale a tired breath, leaning back on Arion, as the audience continues to dwindle. It’s just the four of us after a little while, aside from the immobile Dorian, who is stuck in his own personal hell.
I let Idun win too, because I started doubting that this cycle would ever end.
She really does fuck with your head, even when you’re trying to ignore her.
“She knew Dorian would give anything to provoke Damien into a fight, didn’t she?” I ask, piecing things together, now that I’m not blinded by pain and panic.
My phone chimes with a text, and I glance down, seeing I’ve gotten a new message from the relentless Talbot Lane.
“Of course she did,” Arion answers on a long sigh. “And Dorian played right into her hand. You won’t even let me tear his head off. That’s much nicer than what Damien has gone and done to the fucking idiot. He’s powerful, but weak.”
Again, Emit and Vance turn their very incredulous looks to Arion.
Arion, this time, notices their looks. “Don’t give me that look that calls me a hypocrite. I was actually in love with the bloody woman. Of course she manipulated me. It wasn’t for the fact I had a weak mind. It’s for the fact I didn’t give two shits about wrong or right. It was the five of us against the world, and she was the center of my universe.”
His arms curve around my waist, and he nuzzles my throat, as I read the text to myself.
TALBOT: My alpha will be weakened. The only one he’ll feed from is you. If he had a beta, that beta would request you feed him, because he’ll be in pain, otherwise. His house in forty minutes.
“I may be soulless, but I still have my own piece of hope. It was all in Idun. Now it’s all in Violet. Every last fucking piece,” Arion says as though it’s another casual confession.
No pressure, Violet.
The vampire who willingly bows at his woman’s feet is now dubbing you his new center.
After you broke up with him.
And the sexual deviant monster will only feed from you, after doing something that killed him to have to do to his brother. For you.
“One day, you will understand that I’m twenty-six, and I’ve known about monsters for less than two years. You have incredibly complicated lives, which makes me dread making my own history. In the grand scheme of things, I’m doing exceptionally well. Lower your expectations,” I state in a dry tone, annoyed with how very different we really are.
They’re more desensitized by thousands of years’ worth of harder times. The age thing is starting to be a problem.
My problem or their problem? I don’t even know.
What I do know is that Idun has finally crossed a line. I saw tears in Damien’s eyes, because she sent his brother to do her dirty work. She loves that power she proudly abuses.
I hate feeling powerless to do anything about it, but I can’t ignore it anymore.
I decided to counter her, and I built Sanctuary to protect all the ones she hurts that no one cares about.
Now they’re fighting my battles for me.
She’s hurting the ones I care about.
The least I can do is be a better fucking girlfriend.
I make shampoo for fun, and fight for my right to talk to my creepy ghost friends, who are all possibly psychotic.
I’m twenty-six-years-old.
How the hell do I be a better girlfriend to monsters who’ve lived for this long, and suffer this much history?