Gypsy Truths

Idun smirks, digs her feet into the ground, and prepares to launch herself at Violet.

“Fuck. Me,” Talbot states with obvious horror, his lips parting for a deep exhale to follow, as he stares at the screen.

The chains snap very abruptly, falling from the wall as though those were the magic words.

The silver man drops to the ground without warning, landing on his face. I refuse to look at the screen, as I quickly glance around the floor, spotting the remote I bumped. Where the hell did that come from?

I turn off Idun TV, unable to watch what comes next, while I’m stuck this far away.

“Idun’s smarter, faster, and stronger. She’s also more willing to cross every vicious line there is, and do whatever it takes to reign supreme,” Talbot tells me, turning to face me with no expression. “She’s not as predictable as I predicted, and I’m getting a little annoyed by that.”

“I’m not sure how those chains snapped, but we don’t have any more time for chatting. Grab his head. I’ll get his feet.”

“And then what? Burn ourselves while touching Van Helsing silver until we can’t hold him anymore?” he fires back. “We won’t even make it topside before our hands are too burned to continue holding on.”

It’s a good point.

It’s also incredibly inconvenient, because there’s absolutely nothing lying around to help, aside from the chain. Which…just slides over the Van Helsing silver, making it impossible to tie around him.

“Maybe we can fashion a stretcher from our clothes.”

“And then wander around the woods, while naked and carrying a silver man on our clothes? It should only take five hours or more to get back. I’m sure that will work out well.”

“How about giving a better solution instead of pointing out how stupid all my ideas are?” I snap.

“Certainly. After we hurriedly find a place with reception, we’ll phone in the troops. Then we’ll let Violet know he’s safe, so that she can stop getting her ass kicked for Idun’s amusement.”

I really hate this smug motherfucker.

The sound of a chopper has us both going on the defense. It hovers over us somewhere, because the whirring of the blades is definitely loud.

A wire ladder drops through the hole we made, bouncing when it finishes unrolling a few feet off the ground. My claws extend, until I spot Zuela Van Helsing sliding down the ladder.

He lands and turns to find us. His eyebrow quirks when he sees Vance.

“That’s not good,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I take it you’ve been using Violet’s apple products?” I guess, since there’s not a single scent of a Van Helsing on him.

“Judging by the distinctly odorless air, despite the various creatures attending the Monster Olympics, I’m going to say that girl’s products are flying off the shelves,” he absently volleys. “Pandora did this.”

“We’ve deduced that much,” Talbot says with a tight smile.

“She has a spell that forces the Van Helsing’s silver to attack and cover its manipulator,” he goes on. “It can only be undone with blood magic. We’ll have to take him with us. It’s not safe to stand around here. Not to mention his future wife is currently taking another beating from that crazy fucking bitch.”

“Clever old fella, aren’t you?” Talbot asks in a dry, smartass tone.

Zuela’s eyes turn to slits, and his silver sword extends. “Careful, incubus. Things have gotten entirely too casual, and formalities aren’t a stuffy, archaic thing of the past. Show some respect,” Zuela grinds out.

Talbot immediately lowers his eyes, bowing his head. “My apologies, Sir Van Helsing.”

Zuela’s attention returns to me, while Talbot remains at a bow. I hate Zuela. He makes it look easy to check a beta like Talbot.

“I guess I’ll be carrying him on my own,” Zuela bites out. “Useless fucking wolf and incubus,” he adds on a mutter.

My suspicion over Zuela’s identity is put to rest when he touches the silver and nothing sizzles. Only a Van Helsing is impervious to it.

You can only wield a Van Helsing weapon if it’s been gifted to you. If their silver is not gifted to you, it usually burns.

I snatch the curious chain from the ground, deciding to take it with us.

“Hurry up and do something, old man,” I tell Zuela, moving to the ladder. “How the hell did you know we’d need help?”

“I told him to help you,” the male ghost says, popping up beside Zuela.

Zuela bristles and hurriedly goes to start dragging Vance toward the ladder, as I keep a safe distance from the silver. I block out Violet’s current condition, because the last thing anyone needs is for my wolf to break free from its leash.

Zuela manages to lug Vance up the ladder with impressive haste, and a knight leans over to aide him at the top. Talbot shimmies up ahead of me, but I’m not far behind him by the time we reach the chopper.

Zuela Van Helsing, the head werewolf alpha, and an incubus, coming to save Vance. The world really has started rotating in a new direction. It was inevitable we’d trip at some point.

“You better not wolf out on my chopper,” Zuela tells me, as we all easily fit inside the spacious tin can with tandem rotors. “And my son’s likely going to stab all of you, once he realizes what you allowed her to do for him.”

“Allowed her to do?” I snap.

This is much faster than the one we flew in on.

“Yes, allowed her to do. This is clearly on the four of you,” Zuela gripes.

“You’re taking directions from a ghost. I’m taking directions from a ghost. Arion and Damien are the ones there, and if Violet’s still on that field, it’s because her ghosts have somehow found a way to incapacitate the vampire and the deviant,” I bite out.

“Oh, that’s for certain. Her other ghosts have some way of zapping their lights out. It’s brief, but effective enough to sideline them. They’re being forced to watch. One move, and down they go. Care to explain how that’s possible?” Zuela asks very seriously.

Talbot tosses a thumb in my direction.

“Does it look like he knows what’s going on? At this point, I’m certain I’m more in the know than he is,” Talbot states very bluntly. “On another note, this motherfucker took a silver sword through the heart, and he didn’t even seem to be bothered by it.”

I start to pull out my phone, hoping for a signal so I can check on Violet, but Zuela yanks my phone from my hand.

Growling, I lift my eyes to meet his firm ones. “No good will come out of watching something you can’t do anything about. And I mean it. I don’t want your wolf on my chopper.”

“The old man has a point,” Talbot says, his eyes moving to the open side, his voice barely carrying over the outside noise.

Exhaling a heavy breath, I sit and stare out at the setting sun.

“She said ‘on the way’ wouldn’t be good enough. She’s not stopping until Vance is home and in front of her,” Zuela says, shaking his head.

“That’s because she truly believes she’s distracting Idun,” Talbot groans. “She has no reasonable train of thought, and she’s too stubborn to ever change her mind.”