4
" This could get a little hairy,” I tell them in interruption.
Seriously, I don’t want to know this secret. I’ve got too much other shit going on.
I grimace at the very questionable intestines that belong to some fabled creature that surely can’t exist under the radar if all that fit inside it. “If you’re a respawner instead of an unkillable being, get out of the kitchen and at least a mile from the house.”
Mom assured me there’s a five mile seclusion radius.
Damien starts speaking to me, almost as though he’s too tired to deal with my tinkering right now. “Violet, that potion has to be fresh. There’s no need-"
...
There’s a loud, bubbling, sizzling noise that cracks through the air, and I drop to the floor, as a pulse shoots from the pot.
Damien yelps, as he and Emit are thrown into one wall, and Mom curses seconds before she and Arion are launched almost into each other, hitting opposing walls instead, when they manage to twist in the air to avoid touching.
Everyone crashes to the ground at almost the same time. Groans and grunts and coughs of pain all ring out in annoyed unison.
“I warned you,” I call out, even as most of them narrow their eyes in my direction.
Damien shoots me a look of exasperation, and I shrug a shoulder.
“She did warn us,” Mom grumbles as she remains lying on the floor, while everyone else pushes to their feet.
“No one fucks up a potion better than I do. If I fuck it up enough, less power will be needed to raise them,” I go on, smiling over at Emit…who is just staring at me like he’s confused.
“But it’s the exact right ingredients,” he says warily, as he stands.
“She’s apples and oranges. You can’t compare her to anyone else using those ingredients for that reason,” Mom says dismissively, as I gesture to Vance.
“Take him with you; I’m going to be a while. That was just the first volatile ingredient. I don’t think you want to be here for the yacktite—”
“Ylacklatite,” they all correct in unison.
“You don’t want to be here for those gross, possibly toxic, hard-to-say, fabled-creature intestines. It’s going to probably get crazy up in here,” I say as I twirl my finger around, staying on the floor for a minute longer.
Sometimes there’s an echo.
“Raise your heartbeat. You’re not taking this seriously enough,” Mom scolds. “What are you doing letting your heartbeat drop so much?”
“You really should go. It gets unpredictable when—”
The echo pulse I worried would come knocks Arion, Emit, and Damien to the ceiling this time, and I cringe when I hear things crack.
When they drop, Arion and Emit land in a crouch, and Damien lands hard on his back, cursing the pot on the stove like it’s singled him out and has it in for sexual deviants.
Arion’s lips twitch as he stares over at me, likely thinking what sort of punch a pencil could pack with this concoction. But I’ll be damned if Shera steals any of this juice for his freaky pencils.
“Do you rip up those dolls to use them as a timer?” the vampire asks, as he stays on the floor, causing Mom to sneer in his direction.
Another pulse cracks some glass, but everyone is under the reach of it now.
Damien just shakes his head.
“You have drawers full of toxic pencils I don’t even want to know the purpose of,” I tell him dryly. “You don’t get to judge.”
His grin grows like he’s pleased with something. I think Mom is seconds away from a brain aneurism "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
5
" Violet’s not getting out of our sight,” Arion adds.
There’s a moment of just staring…like everyone is trying to silently argue.
“No one naked in my car,” Mom states when I just stand in my spot, waiting on them to hurry through the push and pull.
You really can tell how thick the air is when too many alphas are in the room at one time, but weirdly it never feels this way when it’s just the four of them. Unless punches are thrown. Then it gets a little heavier than normal.
Arion pulls on his clothes, and threads whir in the air as I quickly fashion Emit a lopsided toga that lands on his body. Everyone’s gaze swings to him like it’s weird for him and normal for me to be in a toga.
Awesome.
Damien muffles a sound, Emit arches an eyebrow at me, and Arion remains rigid, staying close to me but never touching me.
All of us squeezing into a car together while most of them hate each other…should be fun.
The storm finally stops before we board the elevator, and it’s one of those super awkward elevator moments where no one is looking at anyone or saying anything, and everyone is trying to stay in-the-moment serious.
We stop on the floor just under us, after the longest thirty-five seconds ever.
The doors open, and two men glance around at Emit and I in our matching togas, even though his is the fitted sheet and riding up in some funny places.
He looks like a caveman who accidentally bleached and shrank his wardrobe.
I palm my face, embarrassed for him.
The next couple of floors are super awkward with the addition of the two new, notably uncomfortable men.
Worst seventy-nine seconds ever. Math doesn’t add up? Yeah. I’m upset about those extra nine seconds as well.
Poor Emit has to duck out of the unusually small elevator, and the bottom of his ass cheek plays peek-a-boo on one side.
Damien finally snorts, and even Mom struggles to keep a straight face. That really pisses her off.
“You’re seeing him on an off day,” I tell the two guys, who stare at my red boots for a second.
I feel the need to defend Emit a little, especially since I now know he overheard all that gibberish Tiara was saying…
I can’t remember all I said, and it’s worrying me now that my mind has gone off on this stupid tangent.
I trip over the hem of my toga, and Arion snags me before I hit the floor, righting me and showing his hands to my mother with a quick grin.
“Can’t just let her fall,” he says unapologetically.
“You’re going to have to learn to deal with that,” she bites out.
She has a very good point. I don’t trip very often, but things and people usually knock me around a good bit of my life.
The two guys look like they want to run, so I hurry to fix this.
“Really, it’s a long story, but I swear Emit—the tallest one in the fitted-sheet-toga—generally wears pants…er…I guess you guys call them trousers over here. Anyway, we had some plane problems,” I carry on, and then realize I have to account for the fact we’re both missing clothing. “Then there was a fire that miraculously only burned our clothes, because Emit put all my flames out by smothering me with his body,” I state like that’s exactly what happened.
Why do they look so scared? I’m not telling a scary lie.
At this point, I’ve just made it worse, and fortunately Damien takes mercy, clamping his hand over my mouth as he starts steering me toward the door before I can make it…whatever comes after worse but before the worst.
“Thank you,” sounds more like “Mmdi ooooo,” against his hand, but he gets the gist, as he grins.
Mom makes a frustrated sound.
“Another minute, and she’d be bragging about his penis size in quest to save his dignity. Did you really want to hear that?” Damien asks her, forcing me to groan against his hand. "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
7
" Now that things are super awkward, I walk to the car, and hop in the back seat.
“Front seat, Violet,” Mom immediately fires back.
But I point at the sunroof. “Emit’s not going to fit any other way.”
“This is the absolute worst week of my entire bloody existence,” Emit seems to say in a decisive tone, staring at the car like it’s the most offensive thing ever.
Mom even hesitates, and makes another frustrated sound as she presses a button on the fob to start the car.
We all need sensitivity training, because we watch without an ounce of shame, as he truly struggles to put himself in what is possibly one of the smallest cars ever. The other three would struggle some too.
When Emit’s head pops through the opening sunroof, Vance scrubs a hand over his face.
“This is why you have rebellions,” Arion says with a restrained smile. “You can’t be taken seriously. "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
8
" I’d prefer to never witness that again, so a full weather report will be added to Shera’s daily tasks,” Arion chimes in, looking idly around the airplane. “On another note, so long as I learn to land a plane, I’ll already be an exceptionally better pilot than Vance.”
“Do you have any idea how damn fine of a job I just did?” Vance asks Arion with narrowed eyes.
Arion glances over at the smoking wreckage, quirking an eyebrow. “Not really, no,” the vampire quips in a very genuine tone.
“Fuck’s sake, Arion. It wasn’t me who crashed the plane; it was the—fuck it. Never mind,” Vance says, sighing in exasperation as he pulls out his phone. “I’ll have someone come take care of this and pick us up. "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
9
" I stand so abruptly that Leiza startles.
“If Violet wants to find me, I’ll be outside chopping wood,” I tell her, causing her to choke back a sound that suspiciously resembles a smothered laugh.
When I eye her, she’s the picture of seriousness, nodding once again. “Of course, Alpha,” she says so graciously.
Tearing my shirt over my head, I toss it to the ground. Leiza’s phone rings, and she puts it aside.
“A vampire is calling me. That can’t be good,” she says as she meets my eyes, almost asking for permission to answer Shera’s call.
“They’re trying to reach me. Not you. They can kiss my ass. I need a minute to deal with this.”
“I thought you were tired and going to get some sleep,” Leiza states, and then swallows down whatever else is on the tip of her tongue.
“I’m no longer tired,” I point out dryly.
Another nod from Leiza, and I walk out shirtless to go chop some fucking wood for the fireplace Violet rarely ever uses.
There’s an axe wedged into one of the piles of wood near the chopping block, making this simpler than expected, so I get to work.
Before I can even make one small pile, Damien is wheeling into the driveway, barely putting the brake on, before he hops out.
His eyes narrow on me, and then his brow furrows. It’s when his lips start to twitch that I bristle, feeling a little too transparent.
“Didn’t realize you’d gotten this pathetic, mongrel,” he drawls. “And here I thought our calls were being ignored so you could have Violet to yourself.”
“I’m holding an axe,” I warn him.
“Not a Van Helsing axe,” he volleys with a growing grin.
The side door swings open for Violet as she walks out, eyeing me first from my spot near the sidewalk by the street, and then Damien next.
“What’re you doing shirtless?” she asks, looking back over at me. “It’s like ten degrees out here. People are going to think that’s weird.”
Damien restrains a smile.
“You were almost out of wood,” I tell her, gesturing to the…fucking full wood chamber on the side of her house.
I couldn’t squeeze another piece in there if I wanted to.
Violet glances from it, to me, to Damien, and then to the wood again.
“Tiara keeps it filled, and we hardly use it, since the heat is on…” She lets her words trail off, clearly confused.
Damien outright grins. “Just what are you doing, exactly?” Damien muses.
Tossing the axe to the ground, I glare over at him. “Why are you here? "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
10
" I’m first up, love,” Arion says as he starts invading my space again. “I thought the only thing holding you back was your fear. Clearly the fear is absent if you’re willing to turn yourself over to the very darkest part of me. It’s amazing you’re in one piece, so clearly you played submissive very well, Violet. It’s because you were ready for me to save you and overcame your fear of me. Now we can be together.”
When I say nothing and simply stare at him like he’s forever losing his mind more and more when we speak, he frowns like he’s genuinely perplexed.
“Arion, no matter what you did, I couldn’t have endured another second of those cries. And you were at Abby’s mercy while in that state. You ripped my throat out and told me to put on some healing potion so you could sit down and watch the fight.”
Apparently, I guess right, because his pupils widen marginally.
“I held your hand when you finished,” he says like he’s defending himself.
“So you could watch the fight.”
“Vance was focused. It’s been ages since he focused. Thing of beauty while it happens,” he says as if that’s important information.
I gesture between us. “That’s sort of the problem. I feel like the conduit for your feelings for them because you have heterosexual body parts with a homosexual mentality. I’m not sure I’m okay with simply being a conduit,” I carefully explain, causing his eyes to widen a little more, as several muffled sounds of amusement spring from somewhere else in the room.
“I’m sorry, love, but you’ve really lost me,” Arion says very seriously, brow crinkling.
“You want this to be a thing between you and me, even though Idun is returning, because you want them back. It looks like you’re getting that without me, so we can be friends,” I suggest, completely rambling.
I don’t think I’m explaining this very well, since they’re all muffling laughter down the hall. Even Vance makes a choked sound of amusement.
Or they’re just really immature about these things…
That’s definitely possible.
Arion scrubs a hand over his face, as someone struggles to cover a surprise laugh with a cough.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be having this conversation right now. It’s inappropriate to do with an audience,” I babble. “But you’re really intense. And I’ve just survived an apocalyptic wolf storm with your mostly naked beta, whose threads are still in my bra because one set of clothes ended up being enough.”
The look of frustrated confusion on his face doubles.
“I could use a small break before we discuss curses, some really confusing relationship statuses, and the somewhat terrifying woman you’ve all loved rising very soon. And those wolves stole my oranges, so I need to go back and get all of them.”
“I’ve already returned them to your cellar,” Emit says from somewhere behind Arion.
“Then I need to go start using them while they’re useable,” I say as I quickly disentangle myself from Arion and attempt to escape. “I’ll return the shirt.”
“Keep it,” he says quietly from behind me, as I finally take in the other three all standing somewhat close together, smirking at me.
“I’ll drive you home,” Damien says with a slow grin.
“I’m not talking to you, and if you’re a smart man, you’ll figure out why,” I state firmly. “Only when you figure it out will we discuss it.”
“I’ll take you—”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, because I need to get my cool back,” I tell Emit, whose eyes immediately flick away, as his jaw tics.
He’s had multiple opportunities to explain to me why he told Damien I was a monster, and yet didn’t even bother telling me what I was. All this time, I’ve been patiently waiting, refusing to get too angry.
Now…I’m getting sort of freaking angry, because he still hasn’t said one word about it.
“Guess that just leaves me,” Vance says as he puts his hand at the small of my back and starts guiding me out. "
― Kristy Cunning , Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters, #4)
