Gypsy Origins (Page 36)

I work damn hard to ignore all the things his very intense attention does to me.

“My game?” I ask, starting to worry he really does think I’m Idun and has all along.

“You wanted me. Just me,” he says as he presses me up against the side of my house, his lips brushing over mine as he pulls me closer.

My hands come up between us, lightly pushing at his chest. “That was when I thought you were a ghost,” I remind him.

“To have me, really have me, you need all four,” he goes on, gently cupping the back of my neck as he ghosts his lips over mine again. “It’s the only way I’ll ever replace her, because she always gets them back, regardless of how hard they fight. Or so I thought.”

I shove a little harder at his chest when he reaches between us, tugging at the button on my jeans. “Arion, stop,” I hiss.

“Now you have them, love,” he murmurs against my throat as he drags his lips over one spot and sucks, teasing my flesh with the gentlest of pricks on my neck. “I didn’t think I was supposed to chase you too,” he adds on a small, confusing whisper.

When he starts working my pants down like he’s about to take me right out here in the open, my heartbeat drops just enough, as my emotions boil over and rise with my swing.

My knee collides hard with his groin, and he stumbles back, doubling over, as he makes a loud, pained sound and heaves for air.

He staggers into the porch railing, and he leans over it almost involuntarily, while he tries to recover. His mouth opens and closes, eyes wide, as he finally coughs on a painful breath. My knee throbs a little, and the wind stirs just barely.

He acts like he’s going to be sick for a second, but he straightens at last, looking over at me like he’s finally paying attention.

“I see you took my advice and put a bit more oomph in your hit,” he says through strain.

I don’t know why I almost smile. I hate it when I’m trying to be angry and they do something that makes me want to smile or pity them.

“How’s your knee, love?” he asks through a tight smile, like he’s fighting through the pain.

“Now that I have your attention, do you really think I’m over the fact you gave me hope I could save Anna and that I’m just going to run to your bed now that I’ve completed your really fucked up quest?” I ask him like he’s lost his mind as I button my pants back up.

He stands at a lean, as if he’s still feeling a bit of pain. It gives me a weird sense of satisfaction…accompanied by a lot of stupid guilt that I hide.

“How’d you manage to not crack your knee?” he asks me instead of answering.

He seems more genuinely annoyed at the fact I’m able to hurt him, rather than the fact I actually did hurt him.

“I guess some parts of you are still a little soft,” I say with a cold smile.

He gives me a dubious look. “I have quite the high tolerance for pain. Though, admittedly, I can’t think of a single person, aside from you, to ever aim there since I started ripping off heads for far less,” he adds somewhat thoughtfully.

“I’m not ready for these conversations, and I have enough to digest,” I say as I start to walk back in.

He grabs my hand just over the threshold, and I realize that sizzle and pop earlier was from him.

His hand starts sizzling more, steam rising from it as he gently and patiently pulls me back outside.

“You can’t go in without me, and I can’t go in until I’m invited. I’ve been patient, Violet,” he says as he tips my head back, his other hand cupping my face as he starts slowly invading my personal space again.

“I’m not sure patient is what I’d call you, under the current circumstances.”

He grins, even as he gently releases me.

“I assumed you and I had an understanding. I’m not sure where the road took the wrong fork, love,” he tells me as he backs up, hands going to his pockets.

“Well, that’s because you and I have very different thought processes,” I inform him like a semi-sane, mostly-rational person.

“I don’t remember so many objections the day after your party,” he informs me like a semi-sane, mostly-rational, wholeheartedly-smartass person with a smirk.

“That was a rough day, and I had a weak moment. That’s also before I realized I was a temporary situation in your big grand scheme.”

“We’re immortal and you’re not. Of course you’re temporary, Violet,” he says softly, turning on that charm he told the others I’m a sucker for, reasoning away any wrong doings.

“You like to create things, mend things, change things…You’re rather perfect for us,” he goes on, taking a wary step forward, like he’s testing me.

“I do a shit job at mending, creating, and changing things,” I remind him as he cages me in against the wall.

“We don’t have to be perfect,” he says, eyes dipping to my lips like he’s about to try and get kneed in the balls again.

Familiar giggling has me jerking my head away just as he lowers his face, and my eyes grow wide when I see my father walking toward us with the omegas. The giggling stops abruptly, and the omegas swing their gazes toward us, along with my father.

Arion cuts his eyes in their direction, and a smirk appears on his lips as he bends, nipping my ear. “Looks like it’s time for me to meet the father,” he whispers.

Oh dear mercy. I’m about to have to find a way to introduce my father to a murderous vampire alpha after he’s unknowingly hung out with werewolves.

I really do need an actual vacation.

Dad’s eyes are as wide as mine, since this is new territory for us. He doesn’t meet the guys in my life. Obviously. Aside from Jerome that one awkward time when Dad stopped in unannounced at my apartment.

I certainly never planned to introduce him to the monsters in my life.

“We’ll just head inside and let you two finish up,” Leiza says as she hurries by us, pushing through the door.

“Actually, Violet was just about to invite me in,” Arion says to her.

I see Lemon visibly tense and hesitate before she walks in.

“Oh,” Dad says, smiling tightly. Then he awkwardly starts in as well.

“Actually, we were just heading out. I’ll be back very soon, though,” I say as I start shoving at Arion’s chest, not even considering inviting him in.

He grins down at me like he enjoys the resistance instead of understanding how serious I am.

“Would you like to join us, Thomas?” he asks my father. “Is it okay if I call you Thomas?”

Dad walks back out, eyes a little wide. “Sure. Sure. I’d love to.”

This isn’t happening. It simply can’t be.

“Have you eaten?”

“Just finished,” Dad says.

Relief fills me as I say, “Well, too bad then. Maybe another—”

“I’m sure you have room for dessert,” Arion says as he gestures toward the sidewalk. A car pulls up to the curb with darkly tinted windows as if they’ve been cued. “I have an excellent pastry chef on staff.”

I look through the doorway and shoot Leiza a horrified expression. She just looks relieved that he’s not invited in. It’s like no one at all is willing to help me out. That’s what I get for surrounding myself with more omegas.

“I really don’t think it’s appropriate to take my father to your house,” I tell Arion, smiling as nervous laughter slips between of my lips. “You know…since you have so many house guests,” I remind him, refusing to let Dad—the man scared of his own monster daughter—enter vampire central.

“Just to be sure I’m clear here, are you dating my daughter?” Dad asks him, sounding genuinely confused about the entire situation.

Arion’s grin grows as he gives me a wink. “Yes, Thomas. I certainly am,” Arion tells him, still looking at me.

I really wish I could knee him in the balls a lot harder this time.

“If we’re still discussing what to do, I’d suggest a drink. I could sort of use one right now,” Dad says as he awkwardly looks around and rocks back on his heels.

“I know just the place,” Arion says, glancing over at him as that charm shifts effortlessly back into place.

“What place?” I ask quickly.

“Local bar,” Arion drawls, putting his hand at the small of my back as he guides me toward the car.

“Please behave,” I whisper, tensing all over.

He leans down to my ear, kissing the skin just under it. “Violet, whatever do you mean?” he asks in an amused tone.

He opens the front door to the passenger side, and I inwardly groan when I see Shera giving me a little wave from the driver’s seat.

“I was feeling a little left out. I mean, considering all the quality time your new friends have had with your father,” she says with as much feasible condescension as she can.

Gone is the timid dread in her eyes from our last meeting. Back is the feisty redhead with that unpredictable gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t want to ride with Shera. I can drive,” I suggest very quickly to Arion.

His brow furrows, and when I see his slightly hardening eyes, I quickly correct myself.