Gypsy Origins (Page 38)

Before I can tell him how terrible that joke is, my father is returning, and a round of drinks are being dropped off.

A very pretty, fruity drink lands in front of me, and a semi-decorative, yet still manly drink, is dropped off with Dad.

I have no idea what Shera and Arion have, but judging by the black glasses that hide the contents, I’m terrified to hazard a guess.

I’m on a date with a vampire, his beta, and my father, while the blood drinkers very likely drink blood.

I’m really, really not adjusting this damn fast.

“Good stuff,” my dad informs Arion, lifting his drink.

“Best bar in town,” Arion says with an enigmatic smirk seconds before drinking from his own glass.

“I didn’t know you’d started dating again,” Dad says to me very abruptly.

I cough a little on the harsh sip I force down, as Arion leans over and kisses the side of my head, sticking with the ruse of this being a typical, familial evening.

“It’s all rather new,” I assure him.

Dad simply nods, looking around like he can’t stare at me for too long without getting uncomfortable about this entire situation.

“How’s construction?” Arion asks Dad. “You know, I heard there was more money in demo these days.”

Dad starts to speak, but I actually speak for him.

“Dad only does demo on places that want reconstruction. He’s a builder.”

Dad smiles, and Arion just stares down at me.

“Takes more time and effort to build something than it takes to rip it all down,” Dad adds.

“Indeed it does,” Arion says with a tight smile. “At least you get to build something new instead of working aimlessly atop piles of rubble,” he adds, twisting the words to use to his own metaphorical advantage.

Dad presumably takes the metaphor to be literal, judging by his next words. “Depends on the project. But you don’t build on top of the rubble. You have to clean up the mess first.”

That could totally be used as a metaphorical advantage to me.

I grin up at Arion, who apparently likes it when I’m being the same wiseass he is, since he leans down and kisses me suddenly.

I’m so stunned that I don’t react when his lips land on mine, and he cups my cheek as he deepens the kiss. I sway toward him instead of away from him, until he gently breaks the kiss, nipping at my lips, before he pulls back completely, his eyes intently on mine.

“I think I’m going to hit the head again. Damn bladder gets smaller the older I get,” Dad says with a bright red face, reminding me how inappropriate it is for a vampire to be kissing his daughter in front of him.

“I think I’m going to put on some music,” I say to Arion, who’s still just staring down at me like he doesn’t feel the pressing urge to give me a little space.

Shera says nothing as she sips her drink and follows me like she’s doing her duty.

It isn’t until we’re at the juke box in the corner that she speaks.

“You know why I told you about Emily and Isiah, don’t you?” she muses as I eye the song selection.

“Yes. Because you wanted me to be prepared to be Idun’s substitute,” I state idly, finding one song and then another to play.

“Glad you caught on. You’re doing exceptionally well. So long as you keep it up, he’ll be okay with her staying underground, and life can move along merrily without the alphas fighting all the time.”

My eyes flick to hers. “I’m not sure what my place is yet, but if it becomes clear I’m not ever going to be more than a substitute, I’m done, Shera. I have no right to judge you or pretend to understand your complicated relationship, but I do know it’s not for me.”

Her face falls, and seriousness comes into her eyes. “If Idun is returned, a lot of people will die for being too close to them. Myself included. Women make her feel threatened. Women close to them may as well be marked off the list first—especially me, because I’m close to Arion, her pet. Her most loyal.”

“You’re his beta. You’re not fucking him or even trying to,” I remind her.

“You’re sane and rational enough to differentiate. She’s a jealous twat, from what I’ve heard. Trust me, I’ve learned all I can about her. It’s female monsters like her who make it harder on the rest of us who want to make a name for ourselves.”

“I’m a mortal, temporary solution at the end of the day, Shera,” I remind her absently.

“You dropped me. Electrocuted me somehow, Violet Carmine,” she states with zero humor as she stares over at me.

I eye her with silence.

“You survived Damien Morpheous, the man who kills any woman he fully beds. Emit Morrigan has sex with you near the full moon, and you’re in one piece—”

“How could you possibly already know about Emit?” I ask her on an exasperated sigh.

“I may not often ask questions, but I hear all, eventually, Violet. If you’re mortal, so am I. The question isn’t what you are so much as how. Like how did you look at Arion like you’d already met him that day I brought you into the house for the first time?” she asks very seriously. “It’s the one of the many questions I feel I just have to ask, because nobody else finds it at all suspicious.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, eyes flicking back to the song choices.

“Arion is too tunnel-visioned on you being a sweet little mortal. He hasn’t spotted all the signs that surround you just yet, such as how you killed four vampire mercenaries and made them look silly. Mortals aren’t capable of killing vampires without some skill or at least some muscle.”

Before I can argue more and explain how very little skill I have with killing vampires, there’s a startled set of noises behind us, and I look across the bar, as people scatter away.

Arion has a girl lifted off the ground by her throat and his fangs are bared, as he presses her against the wall.

“Someone must have gotten frisky,” Shera says on a putout sigh, as I dart a nervous glance around the room, happy my father is still missing. “This is why you can’t ever tell him about the times I’m mean to you,” she adds on a very hushed whisper.

I sprint through vampires, who leap out of my way, as I rush to the side where Arion’s claws are growing and pressing into the girl’s throat.

She cries out a sound of pain, apologizing over and over.

“Arion!” I shout before I think it through.

His red eyes cut to mine, and a low growl bubbles from his chest. I really shouldn’t feel like it’s okay to continue approaching, but I shove a hand at his chest as I step between him and her, even as he continues to hold her up by her throat.

“She disrespected you,” he says in that feral tone, eyes flicking over my head as he drags me closer with a hand on my waist.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to,” I rush to say, trying to keep his attention on me.

“She ran her hand over me, Violet. She offered her bed. She certainly meant to,” he assures me, and another little crack of pain is issued to the woman still behind me, judging by her timid cry.

I look to Shera, who…simply gapes at me like I’m an idiot for being this close right now.

So…she’s no help.

“You didn’t mean any disrespect, right?” I turn toward the terrified girl with small fangs protruding from her mouth.

She gives me a slightly horrified look before attempting to shake her head, gurgling on the words that can’t form over his strangling grip.

“She saw me with you. She waited until you walked away. She—”

“She’s an omega who is likely trying to serve her alpha,” I argue, reaching up to the back of his neck.

His red eyes drop to mine again. His pupils are barely dilated at all. How the hell does something like this set his monster off?

“You’re trying to manipulate me. How do you know she’s an omega?” he asks around a sneer.

“You said this bar was full of them,” I remind him. “I’m trying to reason with you. Not manipulate you. My father is here.”

The red washes from his eyes, and he narrows his darker gaze at me.

“Everyone deserves a warning. You’ve been underground almost a century. I’m sure there are some young ones who don’t know your rules. Hell, I don’t even know your rules,” I go on as his hand leaves my waist and comes up to gently cup my cheek.

He studies my eyes for a moment, and then narrows his gaze over my head again.

“This is her mercy,” he tells the girl. “Not mine. Remember that.”

He releases her, and she drops to the ground with a pained whimper. I listen to her relieved sob, as Arion’s other arm wraps around me. I don’t stop him from kissing me, because he seems to be less volatile in this moment and not threatening to kill girls who try to flirt with him.

When he lifts me from the ground, my legs wrap around his waist, happy to distract him, even as I deal with my own issues about giving Arion so much power around me.

He hungrily kisses me, though. Like he needs this right now. Like he needs to know he’s being rewarded or something.

He groans against my lips as he puts me down on top of a table, one hand digging into my hair as he properly devours me. In. A. Vampire. Bar.