Gypsy Freak (All The Pretty Monsters #2)

“Mom hunted rogue spirits only. Never the peaceful,” I say quickly, not liking where this is going at all.

“So why isn’t it as important to you to find out who used you to kill Anna? Because Anna clearly isn’t the target, Violet. Someone is doing this to you, and it’s your right to decide if you want to speak to the dead.”

I don’t have to ask questions. I’m slow, but I catch up eventually. “If Mom has anything to do with this, it’s because she knew I’d be gullible and make eye contact. She said the dead shouldn’t get to influence the living. They’ve had their time. If you know I’m dangerous to you, why not run?”

“If you know it’s happening, and you don’t want it to, then why not try to figure out how to stop it?” the guy volleys. “Or should the dead go into final decay early just for being too close for too long?”

“Like Anna,” the triplets all point out again as my jaw wobbles.

“Fine,” I bite out, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. “I’ll find out, but if my mother did this, then there’s a really good reason.”

“Or you just make up a really good reason because you can’t think for yourself,” another triplet pipes in. “Anna said you had blind faith and loyalty to your mother, even in her worst moments. She was afraid you’d be left without this piece of you if it continues. We agree.”

“I could lose sight of ghosts,” I say, half wondering if that was Mom’s intentions, already unfairly considering her the prime suspect.

She knew how bad I hated that I couldn’t see the dead. It was just one more thing that made me feel like a failure to the family name. She swore not all gypsies could see the dead, but I knew all the old-blood gypsies could.

My gaze flicks to the unknown guy, who just stares at me.

“If your girl’s heart is still broken, your death is fresh. Why are you the best candidate for this?” I ask.

“His freshness is the key to us using our knowledge. He can handle much more exposure than us, and study things we can’t…to determine exactly what it is and how it’s attached.”

“There’s a Portocale curse involving—”

“Far, far different,” one triplet scoffs. “Completely unrelated.”

They spend the next yawn-worthy fifteen minutes or so breaking down the very complicated specifics. I’m not sure if I believe any of it, to be honest. It’s not like the dead say very dependable things.

“What happens next?”

“For now, just go to sleep. He’ll be able to feel more when your guard is down.”

“Sleep I can do,” I say with a shrug as I turn over in bed and pull the cover up, happy to have my back to them…as I allow one more silent tear to fall.





Chapter 17





ARION


The taste of Violet still dancing on my tongue, I take a seat behind my new desk for the first time since I’ve returned home.

“Shera doesn’t really know my taste in decor as well as I’d hoped she would,” I say as I look around, taking in my underwhelming office.

Isiah glares at the door when someone knocks.

“I’ve been trying to speak to you all day. You need to adjust the beta rankings on paper, because Shera was left in charge by the outdated documentation, regardless of your wishes for me to take control until your return.”

“I heard you did quite well, even without the adequate authority,” I state dismissively, peering into one of the drawers full of pencils. “Now why would I need a bunch of sharpened pencils?”

Shera walks in, shutting the door behind her when she grows tired of waiting for an invitation. “It was fun sharpening all of them, and that drawer looked empty.”

When I open the next drawer, I find it also full of sharpened pencils.

I give her a wry look.

She shrugs unapologetically. “It was empty too.”

“So you got me a desk full of pencils,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“We have serious business to discuss,” Isiah says to me, leaning over the desk and far too close to me, his hands perched on the edges.

I hear Shera swallow seconds before Isiah makes a pained sound. I smirk as I pull back, leaving two pencils slammed into both centers of the backs of his hands. “Get blood on my desk, and I’ll shove a few more in other places,” I warn him. “I realize I’ve been gone a while, so let’s try to remember exactly who I am before proceeding here, Isiah. I’d hate for you to cease being one of my favorites.”

I smile at him as he carefully lifts his hands away from my new desk, and he leaves the pencils stuck in his hands as he lowers his eyes appropriately.

“You were right, Shera. I can use a lot of sharp, wooden pencils, and they are fun,” I say to her without looking away from Isiah. “This stuff is certainly sturdy stock. I’m impressed.”

Isiah tries to make fists, but I assume it must hurt too much since he stops…or he knows I’ll stab more pencils into any fists in my presence.

“Now, as to the beta issue, I think Shera has done wonderfully in my absence. I don’t really see the actual issue,” I say when I feel he’s been properly chastened.

Shera darts a worried look at Isiah, as he keeps his head lowered, nodding like he now agrees with me.

“I’m afraid this will have to be paused, though. I’m expecting to be found at any minute to have a conversation that is much overdue,” I go on.

Shera starts leading Isiah toward the door, but he stops and turns to face me as I lift a pencil to my lips, feeling the touch of the polished wood. The subtle cedar scent of it captures my attention.

A cedar pencil. Shera does go the extra mile.

“Is it wise to be seen with them in such amicable ways so soon after what they did to you?” Isiah asks, probably wording that very carefully to pack a punch without being disrespectful.

“Why would it be unwise?” I muse.

Shera glares at Isiah like she’s imploring him to simply walk away.

“With all due respect, Alpha, I think it’s unwise to even allow them to be here. The wolf and the Van Helsing just—”

“Just had their uptight asses handed to them in front of plenty of those vampires. By me,” I remind him, really enjoying how Shera is trying not to slap some sense into him in front of me.

Her hands fist at her sides as she continues to glare at him.

Two betas always butt heads. I tried warning her.

“Our objective is to maintain peace,” she says with a modicum of calm. “I think the four alphas of this region having a calm, collective gathering at Arion’s party is a good idea.”

“Four?” I ask her, a little annoyed. “Damien is supposed to be taking Violet home.”

“Violet is perfectly capable of driving herself. She danced like an idiot around monsters without a care in the world. I’d say she’s a big girl,” Shera states sharply, and a little pointedly.

“Do you want me to stab you with a pencil too?” I ask her, holding up my fun new weapon.

It’d break on a sternum, but it’d still hurt real good.

She gives me a dry look, and returns her attention to Isiah. “We’re leaving now.” She urges him toward the door, while turning to eye me, before mouthing, “Behave.”

The look she shoots me makes her favor my sister too much, and I shudder.

The second they’re out of the room, I let my smile fall, and I immediately call Violet’s number.

“Yes?” she asks with a small, odd sound that almost resembles a reluctant laugh, and my lips curve in a grin.

“Hello?” she asks, getting quiet.

I’m content to listen to the background noise, pausing when I hear the sound of a very masculine snore. Her father, I presume, since Shera said he showed up unannounced, to the best she could gather.

That means she’s home safely, but Damien is supposed to fucking be there to ensure she stays safe. They’re careless with her, and it drives me insane.

“I really don’t have room for another monster in my life, so I hope you’re just a normal guy,” she says to me, confusing me, until the line goes dead and I realize it’s not me she was talking to.

I pull back my phone and stare at it for a second.