Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,131

stares down at me with an unchanged, flat expression.

The room blurs for a moment, as the pain slowly starts to numb. Dizzy and disoriented, I dart a gaze over to the…broken salt line that was around Violet.

I swallow thickly, feeling the severed link between my mind and Violet’s, and see the empty space, hoping my aching mind is playing tricks on me.

My panic and dread double, as the lump in my throat becomes harder to swallow around.

“Where the fuck did she go?” I grind out, trying to force myself to my feet, only to suffer another wave of nausea when I move too fast.

“She’ll feel terrible about the trouble she’s caused when she realizes what she’s done,” Marta tells me, her tone still emotionless and flat. “But for now, she’s not in very much control. She’s simply along for the ride. She’s a young monster, Damien. You all know that too well.”

I try to push up, as I hear the lightning crashing repeatedly somewhere in the distance. The link was severed so abruptly and without warning. My head is struggling to clear from the throbbing pressure that has mounted in my skull.

Clutching my head, I have no choice but to ride it out. The dizziness grows so heavy that it’s making it feel as though the room is spinning uncontrollably.

“Pandora chose Idun’s side because she knows that devil. She knows that monster. She also knows that Idun will keep the world from being crushed by monsters, because Idun sees us all as expendable infections. Idun never did this for our people, Damien. She only did it for herself.”

A pained hiss escapes me in place of the words I can’t manage to form.

“Prepare yourself, Morpheous. They come now,” she says, standing, as she picks up two silver swords.

The scent assures me it’s Van Helsing silver. Who the fucking hell would give that woman Van Helsing—

A loud crash has me trying to turn my head to the right, as that steady ringing drones on in my ears, though thankfully at a lower decibel. The storm gains momentum outside, and rain splashes through the open door.

The wind howls almost as loudly as the wolves, but all the wolves suddenly go silent. Lightning crashes, illuminating the dark room enough for me to see Marta shoving a sword through the vacant air.

Blood drips, and my cousin becomes visible, his eyes teeming with fury.

“You’ll see us all dead, Portocale,” he says, forcing the words out, while working to remove the sword from his gut. His eyes cut to mine, and he sneers in my direction. “You fucking fool,” he says as his last words.

The glint of silver is barely glimpsed, before the sword slices through his neck, and his head rolls to the floor.

“See you in twenty-two years, Marcus,” I hear Marta saying, as I try to catch my breath, my vision dimming. “Hurry up and pull yourself together, Damien. I won’t be able to take on all the alphas who’ll side with Idun without some help.”

Bloody hell. How did this day get so out of control?

“Where. The fuck. Is Violet?” I grind out through gritted teeth.

She gives me a bleak expression. “If I had to guess, she’s on her way to Idun.”

My heart kicks my chest, and the pain in my temple multiplies, as I stagger to my feet. I barely get upright, before I see a waver of someone’s illusion.

“Behind you!” I shout.

Marta doesn’t even hesitate to stab the sword behind her, slamming it into the side of someone.

The second I get a whiff of their oozing blood, I decide one very important thing: Violet’s fucking scent-masking apple products are going to make tonight hell.

Marta spins so fast that I barely register the motion, and another head flies off, ending the illusion, even as she hisses out a pained breath.

Marta staggers back, cupping a slice to her throat that came too close, and she grips her bleeding neck. The head of one of my least favorite sisters falls to the floor.

The brutal Portocale makes beheading an alpha seem simple, when it’s no simple task at all.

“At this rate, we’re going to have to kill my entire fucking—”

A blade whirs toward my head, and I barely dodge it in time. Marta tosses me a sword, and I turn, getting the blade up in time to halt the next attempt to remove my head.

My nose bleeds, as I mentally force my way into the room, buffing the illusions cast around me, using all the power I