Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,119

this is dragon-fire metal.

“So this metal’s been lying around for thousands of years and is so powerful that ten-thousand men were slain by a mere one-hundred. Tell me, Master of Random Rumors, why hasn’t it surfaced until now?”

“Because Pandora doesn’t share. If she found all of the metal, she’d hoard it and save it for something important. Such as holding a Van Helsing to the wall, while casting him in his own silver. He was supposed to rot down here, and he can probably hear everything we’re saying, because Idun would have wanted him conscious, so as to leave him to suffer to the fullest for his crimes against her.”

He makes a fist and raps on Vance’s head, but there’s no sound or movement. A hollow tink sound is all that answers that suspicion.

“We need to break the chains and get him out of here. It’ll be a long trek on foot, and—”

My foot bumps something on the ground, and the mirrors light up, as a loud whistle blows in the air.

“I can’t keep knocking them out, because they’re getting closer and closer to salting me. They really want to rescue her,” Anna says to the camera, as though she’s talking to the TV, while gesturing to Arion and Damien—or rather, gesturing to their unconscious bodies. “So hurry it up, boys.”

My eyes land on Violet, who’s slow to get up. Her body is covered in bruises, as she turns and flashes her bloodied smile toward Idun.

“I’ve seen Vance hit Damien harder than that,” Violet tells Idun. “Surely you’ve got more power behind your punches, since you’re supposedly the queen of badass.”

Idun smirks, digs her feet into the ground, and prepares to launch herself at Violet.

“Fuck. Me,” Talbot states with obvious horror, his lips parting for a deep exhale to follow, as he stares at the screen.

The chains snap very abruptly, falling from the wall as though those were the magic words.

The silver man drops to the ground without warning, landing on his face. I refuse to look at the screen, as I quickly glance around the floor, spotting the remote I bumped. Where the hell did that come from?

I turn off Idun TV, unable to watch what comes next, while I’m stuck this far away.

“Idun’s smarter, faster, and stronger. She’s also more willing to cross every vicious line there is, and do whatever it takes to reign supreme,” Talbot tells me, turning to face me with no expression. “She’s not as predictable as I predicted, and I’m getting a little annoyed by that.”

“I’m not sure how those chains snapped, but we don’t have any more time for chatting. Grab his head. I’ll get his feet.”

“And then what? Burn ourselves while touching Van Helsing silver until we can’t hold him anymore?” he fires back. “We won’t even make it topside before our hands are too burned to continue holding on.”

It’s a good point.

It’s also incredibly inconvenient, because there’s absolutely nothing lying around to help, aside from the chain. Which…just slides over the Van Helsing silver, making it impossible to tie around him.

“Maybe we can fashion a stretcher from our clothes.”

“And then wander around the woods, while naked and carrying a silver man on our clothes? It should only take five hours or more to get back. I’m sure that will work out well.”

“How about giving a better solution instead of pointing out how stupid all my ideas are?” I snap.

“Certainly. After we hurriedly find a place with reception, we’ll phone in the troops. Then we’ll let Violet know he’s safe, so that she can stop getting her ass kicked for Idun’s amusement.”

I really hate this smug motherfucker.

The sound of a chopper has us both going on the defense. It hovers over us somewhere, because the whirring of the blades is definitely loud.

A wire ladder drops through the hole we made, bouncing when it finishes unrolling a few feet off the ground. My claws extend, until I spot Zuela Van Helsing sliding down the ladder.

He lands and turns to find us. His eyebrow quirks when he sees Vance.

“That’s not good,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I take it you’ve been using Violet’s apple products?” I guess, since there’s not a single scent of a Van Helsing on him.

“Judging by the distinctly odorless air, despite the various creatures attending the Monster Olympics, I’m going to say that girl’s products are flying off the shelves,” he absently volleys. “Pandora did this.”

“We’ve deduced that much,” Talbot says with a tight smile.

“She has a spell that forces