Gypsy Origins (Page 43)

I mean, this is Vance he’s helping out. He hates Vance worse than he hates me. Well, in normal situations.

“Margie isn’t here. Why isn’t she here?”

“He sent her on a paid vacation a week ago, and she can return when it’s finished. He doesn’t like to been seen suffering,” Damien adds with a cruel smile.

Now it makes more sense.

His smile wavers. “He’s honestly just too prideful to ask for help, though. If you want the real truth.”

Now it no longer makes sense.

I hate this fucking day. Except for the parts where Violet gave in just enough to tease me.

“Anything else?” she asks as her teeth chatter.

“Don’t listen to the things he says. He’s much too prideful to cry out in pain. So when he does make noise, it’s to curse Portocale gypsies all to hell.”

“Is she not wearing a coat?” I ask on a groan when I hear her teeth chatter again.

Damien throws a glass at my head that I easily dodge. It simply shatters and makes a mess against one of his now cracked mirrors. I’m not sure what he intended to accomplish with that.

By now it’s clear all these broken mirrors have accumulated him an eternity of bad luck.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you he needed to cool down,” Damien says, pinching the bridge of his nose, though I’m now annoyingly confused about this entire situation.

“It’s all good,” Violet says very quickly.

He clears his throat. “Right, so, I’ll be there soon to help out.”

“I’m really still underground, trapped in that nightmarish casket, and this is all a made-up fucking delusion in my motherfucking mind,” I determine, scrubbing a hand over my jaw.

He stands, rolling his eyes at me, and I follow him out. I have to see this with my own eyes.

How can I not see this?

If he’s really going to help out Vance, then Violet is more than a gift for us. She’s a bloody miracle worker.

“Why are you helping out?” she asks him, which makes me feel less like I’m losing my mind. Clearly she’s confused as well.

“Because if I’m nice enough to convince you to help him out, then maybe he’ll repay me that courtesy. If I’m even able to stay awake that much longer.”

My eyes narrow again as my lips curve up in a smile.

“I’m not that cruel, Damien. Not sure how else to convince you of that. I wouldn’t leave you to suffer alone just because I’m mad at you,” Violet assures him.

I come to an abrupt halt as he smirks. That crafty devil.

“I know you’re not, sweet gypsy. But you’re cruel enough to make me beg. You’ve proven that already,” he carries on like a charming son of a bitch with a beating heart.

“Do not guilt trip me. That only makes it worse,” she warns him on a tired sigh, as though this is nothing new.

He only grins broader, and gives me a small glare. “It looks like Arion will be joining me,” he says as I get in on the passenger side.

“Your car is scratched, mate,” I tell him, since that’s been annoying me.

Again, he works to resist a grin, and Violet mutters something I miss before hanging up.

Damien puts the phone down, shrugging a shoulder. “Violet only lets you push her so far before she pushes back and lets you know where the middle ground has been met.”

“You make her feel fucking sorry for you, and you’re proud of it,” I say in disgust, physically embarrassed for him.

It’s revolting.

He shrugs again, unashamed, as he drives toward Vance’s.

“She’s not Idun,” he says as his smile fades away. “I’ll be feeding from her, Arion. Violet’s already softening toward me, and my heart’s going to be a little more into it this time. I don’t have the same fondness for Idun you do. It’s not a good thing that Violet recognizes how much you love that bitch.”

“I warned her I fall the hardest,” I say absently, peering into all his little compartments. Not much in the way of interesting belongings. “But she’ll figure out I’m with her so long as she’s alive. Idun is a nonissue until it comes time to deal with her.”

“I’m sure Violet will really love hearing that,” he tells me in that tone he uses when he’s trying to get me to unravel my master plan for him.

It’s unnervingly insulting how stupid they find me.

“There’s no diabolical agenda, Damien. I want Violet. I happen to be genuinely fond of her, and I am obviously very protective of her. Idun broke my rules once,” I tell him, glancing back out the window at the passing town that has certainly changed over the years. “More than once, really. However, I had certain ones she wasn’t allowed to cross. She foolishly crossed them. That became clear when you were able to put me underground like it was the only remaining option.”

“It was the only remaining option,” he grinds out.

“Violet’s her punishment and our reward,” I continue, undeterred.

“Again, I’m not so sure Violet will find that quite as romantic as you do,” he states dryly, as I stare out the window and spot her van at the end of the driveway. “Emit noted that Violet had a really big problem with Shera essentially being a stand-in for Emily. I caution you to find a softer phrasing. It’s about the only advice you’ll be getting from me.”

“Violet’s not going to be the stand-in,” I say idly. “If Idun wants us, she’ll watch and learn the new way we want to be treated. I prefer Violet’s way. All of you clearly do as well. Idun enjoys imitation. She’ll be the stand-in.”

He parks the car very slowly.

“It’s funny how sane I feel when I hear the ludicrous shit that spews from your mouth,” he says as he pushes open the door.

“I think it’s brilliant, and if you idiots had half the brains you think you do, you’d follow my lead. She was always better to me when she was Victoria.”

He turns abruptly, stepping so that we’re chest to chest and eye to eye.

“This is why you’re insane. In your mind, you still find Idun to be a future option. You think this is another thing we’ll just move on from. But I’ve been done with Idun for a really long time. Permanently, Arion. I was willing to live a life of celibacy. Me.”

I shake my head and blow out a breath. “I’m trying to fix that. Can’t you see?”

He points a finger at me. “I’d fill you in on how complicated this all is really going to be, but I hate you too much in this moment to give you that.”

He turns and walks away, and I’m gob-smacked, truth be told. I put my hands on my hips and just stare at his back, trying to figure out what bug is up his ass.

Giving up, I move by him too quickly for him to register the motion, and end up in Vance’s room.

I’m quiet as I take a seat and watch Violet carefully dab a wet cloth to his forehead.

She’s stripped his torso that is sweating profusely, and I notice he’s wearing different pants. It’s certainly chilly in here, but I can make it colder.

“Did you change him?” I ask her, startling her as she looks over her shoulder at me in wide-eye, stunned surprise.

I grin at her.

“That is another reason why you don’t have an invitation into my house,” she says very pointedly.

“Damien gives you a pathetic routine, and you leave a window open to aid his perverted watching,” I very reasonably point out to her.

Damien shoots me a warning look as he walks in, before shifting his attention to her. I hate the way he smiles at her. I hate it because her heart picks up two extra beats between minutes when he does it.

I can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement, because it’s apparently fear and excitement with me.

I’m sure she feels the same about him. I don’t want the fucking fear.

They hate Idun because they fear her.

“Emit’s curse had waves of different things. Is Vance going to be the same?” she asks him.

“Not exactly. He gets hotter, and it gets harder to keep his temperature down. I’ve helped out a time or two, but don’t tell him that. He’ll kick my ass for it, and it’s been too long since I had a proper feeding.”

His eyes rake over her, and I sit back, content to watch their familiar interactions.

“I guess that was before you hated him and treated him so terribly,” Violet says absently, the vast majority of her attention trained on Vance.

Her touch is soft, careful, attentive…everything I want to feel.

I decide to get comfortable, and it gets even chillier in the room than it already is.

Violet looks around, like she’s searching for an open window.

“That’s me, love. Temperatures in rooms drop a little when I need them to or get angry. Creature of midnight,” I remind her, smirking.

She pulls a blanket over her shoulders as she settles in beside Vance, sitting next to him and feeling his cheek.

“Why did you change his pants?” I ask her, even as she rolls her eyes.

“Because those were some of his good ones. I didn’t know if there’d be blood, but I know he only allows blood on certain clothes,” she tells me like it’s obvious and she’s annoyed for having to point it out.