Gypsy Truths

“Shera,” I bite out, prompting her to hurry it along, when she simply stares at me like she’s expecting some sort of appreciation right this moment.

She shakes her head, and then she nods.

“Right. Right. I was putting in some of your personal effects, and I ran across your small portrait of Idun that you carry around. I couldn’t help but think of it, because that necklace was staring me right in my face. Normally that portrait was kept in your office vault. I don’t know how it even got in that box.”

“That was Idun,” I say on another tired breath, while massaging my forehead to stave off the pounding headache. “She meant for you to find that piece and deliberately provoked the thought.”

Right under my nose. That bitch was directly under my nose all that time, and I spent my attention on pointless vampires and petty betrayals, by comparison.

I remember Shera decorating that room, while I was privately haunting my House, spying on all the traitorous bastards running amuck. I remember her finding that portrait. I even remember wondering why it wasn’t in the vault, and I got a little irritated with her for her incompetence with such an important article.

“Damn it. She didn’t skin-walk. Idun was likely too weak to cloak her. Instead, she shapeshifted to her smallest, least threatening form. There was a cat in the windowsill that day. You had to shoo it off afterwards. Demetria is the only one who can shift into a creature that small. There’s a reason she’s the only beta clever and sly enough to ever elude an alpha so easily,” I say tightly, furious with my own self.

“Cats are all over this town. They’re drawn in by the overwhelming spirit energy. I wish I could see the ghosts. The sheer volume must be staggering,” she babbles, as though she’s so nervous and rattled that she can’t help herself.

Something crosses my mind, and it’s so obvious that it’s a little disturbing.

“It was her. Had to be,” I state, feeling distracted by my new train of thought, even as I try to keep up with the current conversation.

Lately, distracted is all a man can be, considering so much is happening all at once. All. The. Time.

I remember finding life to be a bit too boring. I miss boring.

“Say that again,” I tell Shera, as I hurriedly go to the monitor on the wall and pull up the recorded footage of Idun TV. “What you just said.”

It’s the footage of the minutes before Idun TV shut off.

“About the cats?” she squeaks, and then immediately clears her throat.

“No, about the sheer volume of ghosts that must be in this town, and how you get so used to them that you simply learn to tune them out. You almost grow blind to them, in a sense. They’re completely irrelevant beings, because you’re seeing into a second plane not everyone can see. You know the dark dangers that lurk there, because ghosts played a heavy part of this entire damn thing by poisoning the minds of the living with their hatred. Ghosts rarely wanted to die before their deaths, as I’m sure you know, so the afterlife was a bitter journey for most.”

“Um. I said I couldn’t see them,” she states in confusion. “I said exactly none of the rest.”

I was so wrapped up in how many times that fucking ghost put me down that I didn’t even stop to think. It was all happening so fast, and it came out of nowhere.

Violet had no reason to stay on that field after Vance had been retrieved. She deliberately challenged Idun. Vance’s captive situation was just the final straw.

“At first I thought it was because she didn’t want Idun to know when Vance had been rescued,” I murmur, saying that part aloud. “Just in case Idun had a backup plan. Violet’s either arrogant or naïve enough to try to outthink Idun. That much I truly believe.”

“What’s that, Boss?” Shera asks, her voice quaking, as the howls go immediately silent.

“I can’t even outthink Idun, and that’s become painfully clear,” I carry on, even though Shera has already moved across from me, and is timidly peering out the window, while clearly not listening to me.

Doesn’t matter. I don’t need her to help me piece this together.

My stomach muscles contract, and a chill pricks along my spine. It almost feels like there’s a breath and a smile against my neck.

I whirl around, finding nothing behind me. Just as I start to turn back around, I spot a small, barely noticeable bit of salt on the floor.

They can’t even be considered grains of salt. It’s damn near powdered crystals. My gaze darts around, and I narrow my eyes over at the salt once more.

Bristling and feeling a bit uneasy, I turn my attention back to the screen.

“Emit’s saved them, right? Or they’ve just been scared silent? Are they being killed?” Shera asks, sounding damn near concerned for wolves, as she presses closer to the window.

The whole world’s gone mad.

“You’re not going to see all the way to the Morrigan residence from that window, Shera. Does overwhelming fear make you stupid?” I ask, finally finding the footage I’ve been searching for.

Smirk.

In the next second, no smirk.

I back the footage up a couple of seconds, watching as Idun crashes into Violet’s body.

That’s when Violet smirks.

When Idun sails backwards, the smirk is immediately wiped away, and Violet doesn’t look smug anymore; she looks angry. But it’s not even directed at Idun. I can’t see where it’s directed, but it’s in another direction from Idun.

Fucking hell. Who was she looking at?

The screen suddenly flips, as though someone else is controlling the damn thing.

Idun’s face comes over the screen, and she’s holding a picture of Violet.

A smile is on the devil’s lips, as she stares directly into the camera.

“Attention, fans, followers, and pathetic wastes of life. In the next hour, I’ll be expecting this pointless little girl to be delivered to me. If she’s not, then I’ll kill one hundred omegas from every flock, and no less than fifty betas. If I have to wait another hour, those numbers will double,” she says, her eyes lethal and cold, as the smile slowly slips.

“If you find this unfair, don’t worry. The girl’s a fucking daft idiot. All you have to do is tell her who is keeping me company while I wait, and she’ll come to me all on her own,” she says.

The camera pans to…fucking Tom.

He was supposed to be locked up in Sanctuary.

“I swear Avery said he was taking him to the cellar with the others, Boss,” Shera whispers, her breath fogging the icy room we’re standing in.

My stomach sinks. Tom’s face is barely recognizable—swollen and bruised. His head is hanging low, and he’s chained to the wall.

“For every second I have to wait—”

The wall next to her blows apart, and dust sprays all across the screen, as Vance Van Helsing crashes into the room, looking like one very pissed off silversmith.

Idun actually startles, and she whirls around to face him, while claws immediately extend.

“Thank you for breaking the fucking law in such a spectacular way,” Vance bites out. “You attacked a human, Idun. Now who’s the fool?”

“You dare stand against me? Careful, Vancetto, you don’t look so good. I bet it must have been miserable to be frozen solid. I’ve given Pandora several magical articles to siphon magic from. Magic she can have some real fun with,” she gloats, her grin growing more and more genuine, as excitement lights her eyes.