Gypsy's Blood (Page 33)

I really wish I could point out how very little sense all that makes.

“You should let him work his magic. You look like you could use some loosening up,” my newest ghost stalker adds.

Is it a requirement for all ghosts to get horny when they lose the ability to have sex ever again?

Damien casually rolls up his sleeves, as though he wants me to see the toned, tanned forearm porn he has going on. He really is quite possibly the most gorgeous man on the face of the planet. It’s like the tempting outer layer that coats the creepy monster center.

“At some point, we both need to start answering questions. You don’t want me becoming obsessed with you, Violet Portocale,” he says in a conversational tone, though it sounds distinctly like a veiled warning. “It’s best for everyone that I remain numb in my indifferent, dismal corner.”

“You may not believe it, but he used to be a lot of fun,” Ace says with a grin as he props up like he’s getting comfortable.

“It’s fascinating how you seem to want to make any of this my fault. Does this tactic work for you very often?” I muse.

“Worked perfectly fine before women’s lib,” Ace drawls. “He hasn’t had to try very hard at all since, because panties don’t get dropped; they get thrown,” he adds in a stage-whisper. “The twenty-first century is definitely a fast fave.”

“I’ll set up a lunch for us in the near future. Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Damien says in a voice that’s almost enchanting.

“Think of skunk when he talks like that,” Ace says, and I do.

The skunk thing works, because I snap out of the trance before I’m too lost to it.

“Stop using your mojo on me, or I’ll be forced to unravel some threads. I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”

“You killed four vampires,” he says again like he knows for certain it had to be me.

How could they possibly figure that out so fast?

I just stay silent.

“There are rules about killing things, Violet. You got lucky this time,” he cautions me.

“What happens when it’s self-defense?” I ask, keeping things vague, since I definitely do not trust him.

“Why were you in Martin’s home?” he asks instead of answering me.

“Why do you answer questions with questions, when the original question is valid?”

“Keep that up, and he’ll hate you for making him want you,” Ace says around a yawn. “Personally, I prefer my women a little more subdued. Little more plump in the chest area too, but I could work with a smaller stack like yours.”

Okay, now I want to slap the ghost more than I want to slap Damien.

“Kidding. Obviously,” Ace says with a grin. “It’s cute how your ears get a little red when someone’s pissing you off.”

“What are you looking at?” Damien asks me as I cut my eyes back to him.

“Just waiting on the right answer before giving you my full attention,” I say.

“You crafty little thing. You really are a gypsy, because you know how to sell a lie,” Ace says as he leans up like he’s finally interested in all this.

Damien gives me a less impressed look, since he’s not in on the inside joke.

“Self-defense changes things. Works without question on unregistered vampires like the four you left behind today. Not so much on registered or respected vampires,” he informs me, studying me a little differently.

“I haven’t been abridged on the pecking order or politics.”

“Unregistered vampires are illegal, and they get killed by Van Helsing when he hunts,” he explains. “The pecking order starts when you’re registered. Don’t worry. You’ll figure out how that works the longer you’re in Shadow Hills.”

“All the vampires live here?”

“All the monsters have regions. They can’t live just anywhere in the world. There’s a system in place. Those who break the important rules pay the price. With technology being what it is, we can’t afford too many slips.”

“If you say it’s because humans can’t know—”

His laughter cuts me off, and I glance over to see Ace is suppressing his own laughter.

“Half the government are monsters in almost every country. Humans are well aware of our existence, and the higher up the chain you go, the more people you’d be surprised are what they are. It’s never the ones you suspect,” Damien says conspiratorially.

“However,” he continues, his smile slipping, “it’s the more simple minded, herd mentalities or fear mongers we prefer to avoid. We have a complicated but effective system to deal with the progression of each new era, and we deal with the fanatics who get too close when necessary.”

“You’re hiding in plain sight,” I state flatly. “In large clusters they could probably wipe out if they wanted to.”

“The humans know how important the alphas are to the overall order of the worldly pecking order, if you understand me,” he continues, perching up against the wall. “It took them a really long time to come to grips with the true reality of things, but money solves almost all problems,” he adds.

“That’s very true,” Ace says, getting bored again as he starts looking around my room, poking his head through my drawers and my closet.

“Without us, the apocalypse rolls in, and chaos will ensue,” he adds, smirking for whatever reason. “Have a good day, Violet Portocale. Try not to kill anymore vampires without a license to do so,” he adds as he steps out of my room.

I hear him jog down the stairs and hear my front door shut. My eyes flick to Ace, and I start to speak, but he puts his finger over his smirking lips in the universal hush sign.

He disappears from sight, and my gaze darts over just as he pops up near my door, gesturing to his eyes. “Right here,” he says.

I hold his gaze as he walks to the left…and back to the right…then back to the left.

Damien appears, and I arch an unimpressed eyebrow at him as Ace steps out of him and comes to drop down on the bed beside me, staring on at Damien with amusement.

“You’re going to tell me how you’re doing that at our lunch,” Damien bites out as he turns and stalks out.

Again, I hear the sound of him jogging down the stairs, and hear the telltale sign of the door slamming.

My eyes move over to Ace who says, “He’s really gone this time.”

Tires scream just outside as if to punctuate the departure.

“The older they get, the more tantrums they throw,” he drawls.

“How long have you stalked them?”

“Enough about me,” he says as he turns over and puts his hand under his head as he faces me, pretending he needs to support his head. “Why did you kill four vampires and how?”

“They attacked me, kidnapped me, and tried to kill me.”

“Why didn’t they just kill you to begin with if they wanted you dead?” he asks as though that’s the first question anyone should ask.

“Maybe they planned to drink me?”

“They’d be tempted, but it’d be death raining down on them if they did. A vampire can’t hide the scent of Portocale blood on their breath for a while. Unless they have a willing Portocale—which is highly unlikely—it’s an immediate death sentence.”

“Nice to know I’m a forbidden delicacy,” I state dryly. “That’s the second time today I’ve been told that.”

His gaze rakes over me. “Forbidden you are,” he murmurs under his breath. “The forbidden is always the most tempting.”

His gaze swings up to meet mine again, and I give him an exasperated look. “Are all ghosts so fixated on sex?”

“Are all flesh bags such prudes?”

I’m not sure why I grin.

He waggles his eyebrows at me as he pushes closer on the bed.

My smile slips as the reality slowly sinks in. “Why do wooden stakes work on vampires?”

“Because so many humans around the globe truly believe that to be a fact,” he says with a shrug of one shoulder, as though it’s an easy conclusion.

“That’s not—”

“The power of the mind is the absolute strongest force out there. Gypsies carry an abnormal amount of that power; the same is true for the witches out there.”

Witches. Great. There are witches.

“However, humans collaborating under one unified belief carry a great deal more power than they can or will ever realize. It’s one of the many secrets your new monster entourage don’t share with anyone who has less than alpha status, nor do they share it with the human allies,” he goes on.

“Then I probably shouldn’t know it,” I say very quietly, tension ratcheting up my spine as I look around, paranoid Damien has come back without Ace noticing him.

“Probably not. But now that I’ve told you a secret, you owe me one,” he says idly.

“You told me one of their secrets. Not one of yours,” I feel the need to point out as a grin tugs at my mouth again.

Oh, no. I’m flirting with a ghost.

Why am I flirting with a ghost?

“You asked, though,” he goes on with another shrug and a boyish grin. “And I gave you a direct answer.”