Gypsy Truths

Vance.

What about Vance?

Who’s…Vance?

His nose stays pressed to my neck, and on occasion, between dizzying twirls and elegant steps, he teases the flesh with his lips.

It feels like we dance for hours, even though I’m certain that can’t be right.

Just as I feel the barely-there graze of fangs, something akin to a cold bath drops on me.

“No!” three girls shout in unison.

“Sorry, girls. The Van Helsing will die and Violet will never trust us again if we let it happen,” someone is saying.

All the voices sound so distant, as if they’re in a tunnel somewhere far behind us. Me and my vampire.

Red eyes lift to meet mine, and a devilish grin spreads across his face. He’s beautiful.

The dance floor is vast and elegant, dressed in golds and silks, and every masked person in the audience watches us with pure envy radiating from their eyes—

That cold bath drops over me again, but this time it’s so jarring that the dancefloor cracks under me. Red eyes glow, and Arion hisses, as the split in the ground begins running up all four walls, slicing everything in half. Suddenly, it all explodes, and I stumble forward, falling with Arion.

We’re slammed to the ground, forcing a grunt out of me, but I get the more comfortable landing, since I land on top of him.

The only thing not blurry in my vision is him, and my brow furrows when I see his eyes shut and his body lifeless.

“Don’t panic. He’s not dead. Just unconscious. Probably won’t last long, so either be his bride and get Vance killed as a byproduct, or let us help you find Vance,” someone is saying.

Anna.

It’s Anna.

Blinking, my vision returns to me, reminding me I’m not on some dance floor surrounded by people in masks. I’m in the tent Arion presumably had constructed for our bridal celebration.

My gaze darts from spot to spot, my mind slowly returning to reality. Anna gives me a five-finger-wiggle wave, grinning. The triplets glare at me like they want me dead.

“The vampire deserves this more than any of them,” they all tell me.

“That’s because you’re twisted and find everything about him perfect,” I tell them, even as I gently stroke Arion’s perfect cheek, hoping he’s going to wake up and not go crazy.

“I’ll be your bride,” I tell him again, whispering the words in his ear. “Just not until I can find a way to keep you all safe.”

“You’re weak,” the triplets inform me.

“You’re insane,” I volley, as I stand and walk through the gate doors.

“I’m Diva, bitch!” Diva says, scaring the fuck out of me the moment I exit and she pops up.

She laughs and vanishes from sight, while I turn and glare at Anna. She grins.

“Sucks to be you sometimes,” she tells me.

“How can I find Vance?” I ask her.

“You don’t. I do,” Anna says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I still don’t trust you, Anna. Honestly, with every passing day, I think I trust you less and less. I feel like it’s all been a lie,” I tell her very honestly, feeling the tremble in my hand.

The triplets roll their eyes.

Anna shrugs an unconcerned shoulder.

“That’s completely reasonable. However, if you don’t take a leap of faith and trust me today, your Van Helsing can die. But it means I have to tell you something else I’ve been keeping a secret,” she says on a day when I can’t really afford to take another hit. “And it’s a really big one you’ll appreciate in this moment, but you’ll possibly feel betrayed when you have time to think about it later on.”

Awesome.

I’m sick of those secrets from her. They’re only getting worse and worse.

A memory of Vance smirking down on me, while he kissed me stupid in the basement of his house pops into my mind.

Those were the best two days we’ve had in this never-ending madness that seems to span across all eternity.

My gaze flicks to Anna, and her dark grin curves her lips.

“This is the first step to building a wonderful partnership, Violet,” she says before I’ve even given her my answer. “If you learn to trust me completely, we may even be able to find a way to take down Idun without waiting a few centuries or so.”

“One thing at a time, Anna. Reel it back a notch or two. Can you really find Vance?” I ask her.

“Yes. Yes, I can. I just need to borrow that gypsy blood of yours for a few seconds. Tops,” she says, looking much too excited about this.

Shutting my eyes, I exhale, and simply let it happen. When I blink my eyes open, I’m standing on the far side of the field, and I’m no longer wearing my mascot suit.

Nope.

Now I’m in what is possibly the most scandalous cheerleader uniform ever, and there’s a megaphone at my feet.

Also, the entire Neopry section is staring at me with fascination.

Also, Idun is staring daggers at me, her lips doing a somewhat alarming wiggle thing, as though she’s so pissed off that she can’t possibly keep a respectable line but desperately wants to.

Also, Damien, Emit, and Arion—whose eyes have returned to normal color—are all very clearly infuriated with me right now.

What has she fucking done?

“You see, this is why I don’t trust you,” I tell her very dryly, trying not to react too suddenly, since I have no idea what I’ve just said or done.

I do know that I’m very self-conscious in a skirt that definitely does not cover my ass, that is thankfully clad by some very tight underwear. The top of the skirt comes over my belly button, hiding some of the softer flesh on my stomach.

“Don’t worry. I worked with your body’s best features and made it the sexiest outfit anyone has ever seen,” Anna tells me.

Swallowing thickly, I resist the urge to cover up my breasts, that are scarcely bound by a slinky bikini top with megaphone patches to hide my nipples.

I’m not the sort of girl who can pull this type of look off, and I wish people would get the fucking memo.

I spot my one and only male ghost speaking directly to Emit, and watch as Emit ignores him. Then suddenly he jerks his gaze to him, and he gestures for my ghost to follow.

“What’s going on?” I ask Anna.

“With Emit or the scathing glares directed at you?” she muses.

“Any answer would do.”

“Your lips are moving but they can’t hear your words,” the triplets say as they take a stand on my other side.

“That’s not even remotely close to being on the very important topic of what the hell is going on,” I tell them all, trying by damnedest to remain calm.

“Judging by their reaction, the wolf is hurrying to a chopper to save the Van Helsing. It seems Damien has sent Talbot to fly it for him. Don’t worry. They’ll be able to handle the problem,” the triplets tell me, wildly presuming I trust them at all.

“And I just pissed Idun off to buy us a distraction and give them some time,” Anna says, smiling too wickedly for my comfort. “You’re the one who decided to play the masochistic martyr. You’re in the game now, Violet. Suit up.”

“Anna?” I say on a tired sigh, all while suppressing the avalanche of hysteria that is hurdling toward me.