Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,116

and stubborn, and she’s been raised in a country where that’s particularly normal. She’s so young, sheltered, and gentle-hearted that she’s truly under the impression she can change things in spite of Idun. We’ve accepted the fact we can’t do anything about it, aside from keeping her safe.”

“Which is not normal behavior from an alpha,” he’s quick to argue.

“Violet’s monster is as helpless as a beta in an alpha match,” I tell him very seriously, since there’s no reason to keep that a secret.

His shoulders sink as though that’s disappointing.

“I’m sure she seems weak now, at her age, but her confidence is—”

“A manufactured byproduct of her human raising and her indifference toward death, due to the fact she can’t die. It doesn’t matter if her arrogance and stubbornness get us killed or worse, Talbot Lane. Our only goal at the moment is to protect her from all the ways Idun can destroy her, because Violet’s too soft for what comes next. She simply keeps thinking too human.”

“So the girl born a monster thinks more human than the men and women who were born as humans?” he asks. “Didn’t you truly start all this because you wanted to protect your people and forge a better future, while surrounding and protecting the woman you all loved?”

I sit quietly, not saying a word.

“Violet finds your overprotective nature a bit overbearing and inconvenient at times. Idun, however, used it against you,” he says.

“Why are you educating me on my own life, incubus? Tread carefully. When we land, I may take some of this personal, and you’re no match for me.”

“Posturing, Mr. Morrigan? I can assure you I mean no offense, and I’m quite aware of our gap in the pecking order. I fully respect your position as an alpha,” the bullshitter spews.

“You’ll immediately lower yourself to kissing ass?” I ask, not believing my ears.

He grins. “Of course, Mr. Morrigan. An incubus has very little pride when it comes to avoiding violence.”

Yep. Just as condescending as Vance, but also as cheeky and arrogant as Damien.

Serves the Morpheous right for being stuck with this prat.

We both sit up straighter when we reach the coordinates, because there’s nothing there but a patch of woods.

“Land this thing and come find me,” I tell him as I shove open the door and free fall, strategically dropping in a small clearing that’s just enough to avoid the thicker branches.

A few smaller ones break against me as I fall through them, and the ground sinks when I land. My knees bounce just barely, and I straighten, looking around for some sign as to where—

Edward, the sketchy ghost, pops up, standing across from me, and he gives me a wave.

“Where the hell is he?”

He points toward his feet to a patch of undisturbed and inconspicuous earth.

“How do I get down there?”

He shrugs. “Pandora disappeared from the graveyard. It took some work to find him. I can just pop down there, but I can’t break him free from the silver statue he currently is.”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Maybe one of the trees is a secret lever?” he guesses, genuinely useless.

“Or maybe this is bullshit and you’re some fucked up ghost yanking our dicks,” I suggest.

“You really do have a certain fascination with your lower appendage, don’t you?” he quips, while appearing to search for a secret lever in earnest.

“If this is just some devious ghost prank, I will kill you. Dead.”

I add that last part just to let him know it’ll be permanent, since ghosts haven’t been staying dead, as of late.

“The longer you stand here watching me try to do something productive, while you do nothing, the longer Violet gets her ass kicked by Idun. She’ll take it until you have the Van Helsing safely returned.”

The blood feels to drain from my body, and he grins.

“The Van Helsing is here. I assure you. I have no prior experience with diabolical witches, secret underground lairs, or spells that make Van Helsing silver go crazy. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a hero at some point.”

Staring down at the ground, I lift my foot, and I stomp as hard as I can. The dirt gives, and pain shoots up my leg, as something metallic groans an echo under me.

“There really is an underground lair,” I say with some honest surprise.

“There are also some shifters you should probably kill before they sneak up on you,” the ghost tells me.

I whirl around just in time to surprise the bitch, who is mid-swing with a silver sword. I