Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,12

playing in an almost muted tone, and I stumble once again over the wreckage. Piles and piles of stuffed animals litter the ground, as the Carnival music plays on a loop. A Jack pops out of a box right next to me, and I startle away from it.

Son of a bitch. What is this fresh madhouse?

“Violet!” I call, but immediately the music starts blaring louder, as though her mind is purposely drowning me out.

“Violet!”

The volume steadily rises, almost forcing my ears to ache.

I’m both impressed by her ability to achieve something of this magnitude, and terrified to learn what brought about such desperate measures.

With some unsteady movements, I move through the carnival rides that start spinning and circling in dizzying motions all around me. He was definitely ejected. Dorian wouldn’t have ever held up in here.

To be honest, I haven’t fed enough to contend with something this disruptive to my skill.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Violet somehow managed to control her own mind against Dorian’s grasp, but how did she know his weakness?

It’s more his weakness than mine. We learned we could never be a carnival’s sideshow, because of all the dizzying spectacles that affected so many of my family’s illusions.

The mind is a precarious thing. Even ours are subject to some restrictions.

Physical things to trip over, and a world created for the sole purpose of eliminating Dorian…

This is masterful.

I trip again, falling this time, and curse.

This time, it’s a bunch of baby doll heads staring up at me, and I’m creeped right the hell out. Some are missing one or both eyes, and all are smiling brightly up at me.

One even giggles at me, as another coos.

I’m starting to find my girlfriend’s mind a little scary.

“You want to fuck with me, then come on,” I hear Violet’s voice call out. “See if you can find me, you crazy son of a bitch. Your daddy issues are not my issues!”

What the hell?

She comes charging out of a dark corner so suddenly that I almost don’t react, still distracted by all the blurry movements surrounding me. At the last minute, I catch her foot before it can connect with my face, and I leap to my feet.

It trips her up, and I catch her, scooping her into my arms.

She pauses her hand next to my face, stopping herself from slapping me, as her brow furrows. I quirk an eyebrow at her, feigning a calmness I don’t feel at all.

Dorian attacked her.

He broke into her mind.

How she managed to figure out his weakness is beyond me.

“The dizzying patterns work best on him. I’m only hindered by them to a certain extent,” I tell her, watching as tears start filling up in her eyes.

“How do I know if it’s really you?” she asks on a rasp, tired breath, her body starting to shake in my arms.

“Surely you feel the difference, or you wouldn’t have stopped yourself from striking me, sweet monster. How did you figure out his weakness?”

She opens and closes her mouth, a sob catching in her throat, as more tears start to leak down her cheeks.

“Please really be you,” she says instead of answering, her body giving a full shiver.

“Trust what you know. Trust what you feel. Playing with the mind isn’t an easy task. You can only control so much. He never felt like me, Violet. You know it to be true,” I tell her, sincerely hoping he didn’t manage to—

“There was no feeling in the visions when he touched me,” she whispers, almost as though she’s talking to herself.

“He fucking touched you? Where and how?” I growl, my grip on her tightening.

She stares up at me, and her breath blows out in relief. In the next instant, she fades from my arms.

I dart a look around, certain she must be moving back into consciousness, and hop out of her mind.

An ache immediately strikes me when reality abruptly comes back into play, and I open my eyes to see the marble under me and feel a sharp pain in my nose and chin.

“You sort of face-planted all of the sudden after you went in there. Is that a normal thing? If so, maybe you should lie down next time. Your best feature is your face,” Anna tells me from right beside my head.

I push up abruptly, glancing over when I spot the threads unraveling from Violet’s body, watching the numerous sparks of electricity, as they roll off her.

“It’s aliiiiiiiive!” Anna shouts in a deep, theatrical tone.

Wiping