Gypsy Truths
It’s not just the vampire tent watching. All the wolves have moved their attention to the oblivious couple as well. Even our own respective alpha tents have paused their own activities, far too interested in Arion and Violet. The Neoprys are certainly invested in the scene at hand.
“This isn’t even a little worrisome,” Damien states, the words dripping with dry sarcasm, as he bristles.
“Hearing it and seeing it are two different things. This is the first time they’re truly seeing how very obsessed he is with her.”
“We’re going to need to stage an intervention if she rejects his proposal,” he says on a long, dread-filled sigh.
“Remember what he said about today. Follow his rules, even if you hate them,” I tell him, giving him a pointed look. “You can’t be lazy unless you win at least one event. If you receive a trophy, act like it’s the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
Damien rolls his eyes and groans.
Avery moves toward me, fully dressed in his Van Helsing tactical uniform, which halts our current conversation.
“Are you here to cheer me on?” I muse.
His serious expression doesn’t waver, which causes my brow to furrow.
“Sorry, sir. This came for you just over an hour ago, but I wasn’t notified of its urgency,” he tells me.
He hands me an envelope he’s already opened, and I pause when I see the seal that’s been broken.
It’s a wax infinity symbol that’s been split in half.
Damien sucks in a breath just as shaky as my own.
Without farther delay, I quickly pull the letter out and hurriedly skim the contents.
Vancetto Van Helsing,
Why are you sending men in search of me? Why is the vampire questioning old contacts of mine? Why does the savage wolf and the deviant no one remembers insist on hiring men to seek out my old dwellings? What does the monstar quad want with a wicked witch they’ve not crossed paths with for so many centuries?
I’ll be at the dragon’s cemetery for the next two hours. You have that long to ask me your questions, silversmith.
—P
She only signed it with one letter, but one letter is all we need.
Pandora…
That chill that’s slowly been slinking up my spine turns into a rod of ice.
Monstar quad…
She used Violet’s embarrassing pet name.
“I’ll go with you,” Damien states quietly, his finger running over the same couple of words that have my spine so painfully stiff.
“No. It’d be best if I went alone. This was very deliberately addressed to only me. Out of the four of us, she’d trust me the most, given the fact I uphold our laws. And I need to hurry—”
“I’ve prepared the helicopter, sir,” Avery says, reminding me that he’s still in earshot, as his eyes warily—but subtly—watch for any eavesdroppers.
No one can hear a damn thing over the Star Spangled Banner that is currently being played on a very loud, electric guitar.
My gaze drifts to Violet, who is standing at attention, hand pressed over her heart, as she stares up at a flag. Arion looks very displeased, even as he does the same thing.
“She taught the vampire manners,” Emit says as he comes to stand next to us. “Surely she knows he has no country he feels patriotic toward—”
His words stop when I abruptly walk away, shoving the note at Avery.
“Where the hell are you going?” Emit calls to my back.
Damien will have to fill him in.
We’ve searched high and low for any trail that would lead us to Pandora, and have come up with nothing but dead ends. With the world slowly spinning toward Idun’s impending chaos, Pandora decides to voluntarily reach out?
I really don’t like this.
Chapter 28
VIOLET
“You could have been a sexy cheerleader. Instead, what do you choose to be to cheer on your four very hot alpha boyfriends?” Anna asks, rolling her eyes. “A terrible mascot.”
My head almost falls off, but I get a roar of applause when I bend over for my furry booty dance.
“You know they’re not cheering for you, right?” Anna asks as though she’s reading my mind. “They’re cheering because a big round, wooden wheel full of salt just rolled past the blue line. Again.”
She gives me a pointed look, as I ignore the sweat that is definitely beading across my forehead already.
“Not only is it boring as hell, it’s also incredibly offensive to ghosts, who have a known allergy to salt,” she adds in a huff, glaring at Arion. “He doesn’t respect your friends. However, you should still be his bride.”
“Anna, we’re not discussing the bride thing, remember? There’s a big fat pin in it.”
“Well, you better get that pin out of it. He’s going to get down on one knee or ‘vant to suck your blood’ in public or something by the end of the night. How do vampires propose to their brides?”
“Maybe you should ask someone. You seem to get more answers about things than I do,” I mutter, admittedly being a bit petty.
“Of course I do. As I’ve said before, I’d be a much better main character than you,” she inserts, shaking her head as though she’s embarrassed for me.
The Morpheous tent erupts into a frenzy of cheers, which is far more enthusiasm than I expected. They seem a little ‘too cool’ for sports. Especially sports that include rolling a wheel of salt down a hill.
I’m sure there’s a deeper meaning that I’m clearly completely in the dark about.
It takes me a second to realize Damien has won the entire event, and he’s shaking a bottle of champagne that sprays the crowd of Morpheous alphas in front of him.
“Your vampire boyfriend is lamer than I expected him to be. Do you think he chose such sad little childhood games because he’s really a broken little boy on the inside? Or is it because he thinks you’re such a delicate little flower who can’t be subjected to true monster sports?” she drones on.
“Seriously, Anna, I’m seconds away from salting you. You’re ruining my day with all your—”
“The wheel has turned, so pucker those lips of yours now!” Damien crows with a lot of dramatic excitement, as he turns and bends over, all while pointing to his ass, acting like someone I’ve never met before.
Clearly, these days that sort of thing comes across as suspicious.
“Fates chose the king you’ve yearned, so prepare yourselves you stupid sows!” Damien adds, which oddly renews the cheers from the Morpheous tent.
I don’t know what’s happening right now.
For once, my expression mimics Anna’s, because I find it so weird how proud of that salt-wheeling trophy they are.
“This is everything,” Damien says a little too theatrically.
He hugs the wooden, round trophy, while smiling so widely that is definitely starting to worry me.
“You have no idea how very much this means to all of us to win the first event of the very first Monster Olympics,” he carries on, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
“Seriously, your Morpheous boyfriend is lamer than your vampire boyfriend,” Anna assures me.