Gypsy Truths

Shera’s lips thin, and she reluctantly answers, “Even if you don’t like the way things are, that doesn’t mean you have the right to change it for what you feel would be better. That’s true for humans and monsters alike. Once upon a time, five gypsy families conspired to sacrifice another. All because things were unbearably brutal, hard, and suffering was just a way of life. Now monsters roam the earth and could end it at any given moment.”

“That’s heavy shit, dude,” Lela, the resident ghost stoner, says as she appears next to Anna.

“I’m looking forward to the vampire’s fun. This place is too grim lately,” Anna says in agreement with Lela.

“I’ll always make sure it’s my head on the chopping block. Not yours,” I assure Shera.

Her hands tremble, as she slowly adjusts her stance.

“You wouldn’t be the first to make that promise. The problem is, you can’t control who she goes after. The omegas. Me. The Simpletons. Everyone under this roof was marked a target after you barged into her home and made demands. The take-no-shit ball-busters make excellent heroes in an exciting story. Unless the trail blazer is humbled, because then it makes them the cavalier fool in a sad story, Violet. Remember that.”

With that, she turns and walks away.

“In other words, if you succeed, you’ve saved the monster world and you’re awesome. If you fail, you’re the fucking cowboy idiot who got everyone killed,” Anna tells me, as though I need Shera’s warning broken down.

“You really are all American, aren’t you?” the British ghost asks as she pops in and takes a seat on the railing next to Anna.

“And a total buzzkill most of the time,” Lela says with a dopey grin, apparently stuck in an eternal state of ‘stoned.’

“Only one ghost at a time can insult me. I’m too busy for this,” I say as I turn and walk down the hallway in the opposite direction Shera went.

“So, when are you putting on that ring from your Van Helsing?” Anna asks, as the other two ghosts fortunately leave, presumably to haunt someone else.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind, and now Arion is apparently preparing to seal the vampire-bride deal with the Monster Olympics. I’m rarely sure how one thing leads to another, but that’s become a typical day in my life.”

“You have four boyfriends with some insanely hot bodies. Sex better be on your mind, or you don’t deserve your vagina,” Anna interjects, as I round the corner to my sad little office.

“I’ve yet to tell Vance my suspicions about Margie. It’d be wrong to be thinking about sex until I find a way to bring that up,” I say on a tired sigh.

I smile when I see a very prettily wrapped present on my new desk. The old one was smashed at some point. Presumably, Dorian was knocked into it. That’s according to Anna, so it’s not a reliable source. For all I know, she somehow blew it up on accident.

Or on purpose.

“You’re a pain in my ass these days,” I decide to inform her, as I tear open the present from Arion.

She nods like she completely agrees. “But you begged me back and now you’re stuck with me.”

I open my mouth to argue that, but as I pull the top of the box off, my eyes go round and my mouth splits into a painful grin.

“Is it diamonds? Did the vampire send a box full of diamonds? I’d expect a box full of severed heads from him, but you smile about diamonds and not severed heads,” Anna prattles as she comes to poke her head over my shoulder. “Holy shit. You’re actually smiling about a severed head,” she adds in a dry tone.

I lift the large head out of the box, finding the body flatly folded underneath.

“Why are you holding an oversized tiger head with so much joy in your eyes?” Anna asks, looking between me and the tiger.

“Because Arion can be sweet when he wants to be.”

My smile falls and I immediately feel guilty for my brief moment of happiness over a costume, when I remember what Emit’s going through.

As if my thoughts have summoned him, Emit ducks to enter the room, and straightens back to his intimidating height.

Autumn eyes stare into mine, proving his wolf is near the surface. His beard has been trimmed, but is still long enough to get a grip on, if needed. His hair is barely damp, as though he came here after a shower.

Dressed in jeans and a sleeveless Aerosmith shirt, he props at a lean against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, as he stares at me.

I’ve been desperate to speak to him, and now I have no words.

“The other night was supposed to be a really good, sacred thing you were sharing with me, and I ruined it by crossing a line,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry, Emit. I wish I had never—”

“We know more today than we did before that day, so it’s best if the truth came out. I knew it was too easy to have her come out like she did. It’s always been a risk to take a woman to bed,” he says, pushing away from the wall, as he comes toward me.

I hate her.

I’ve used that word before. It’s a running joke between Anna and I.

In all my life, I’ve never truly, sincerely hated anyone. However, I hate Idun.

I hate her.

“Arion’s informed me that if I ruin his big day tomorrow, he will destroy me. Don’t let Idun’s many fucked up antics sour the good times, Violet. That’s just one of the many ways she breaks you. You’ll find hundreds of other cruel breadcrumbs like that one. I’m sure it’s only the start of many ways she’s been fucking with our lives,” he goes on, having no leading emotion.

He sounds more tired than anything. Not defeated. Not upset. Not depressed. Not any of the many things I was worried about him feeling.

“You’re okay?” I ask him quietly.

“She killed one of my omegas and switched places with her. I never expected anything of the sort the entire time, and once more feel like a fool, while also grieving another wolf I lost. One that I’d sworn to protect. No, I’m not okay. But it’s not the sort of thing that can break me, Violet. No need to worry so much,” he assures me, tipping my chin back as he invades my space.

A small, content sound vibrates his chest when he runs his hand under the back of my shirt, feeling the scars there.

“I never have to question if you’re mine or not. These can’t be faked,” he tells me. “At least, not to me. I can feel the claim resising in the marks.”

He bends, and I tip my head back, feeling the brush of his firm lips against mine. The soft press of his beard tickles against my cheek, when he runs his lips along my jaw.

“Enjoy yourself very freely tomorrow. I’ve already grieved Fay’s loss, even though I grieved her at the wrong moment in time. I still grieved her loss. I have no desire to do it again. Idun’s done this countless times in the past. I’m desensitized to even this, Violet. Don’t fret so much.”

He cups my cheek, his head pulling back so that his eyes stare down into mine.

“We’ll have a chance to test her strength tomorrow,” he says, confusing me a little. “We have our own plan. Trust us.”

He leans forward. I lean forward. At some point, his lips are pressed to mine, and he kisses me. My arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer, but he breaks this kiss, breathing heavily as his hands grip me at the waist.