Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,144

Marta at as his back, which is more than enough to fend off—

Just as I manage to knock my father back once again, separating him from the others, I spot movement through the storm. The whole sky lights up, seconds before the next strike, illuminating the forest in front of me enough to show me what’s coming.

“Vampyres!” I shout, stumbling backwards.

My heart races in my ears, as dread engulfs me with a long-forgotten fear. It’s been just long enough to forget the terror that strikes with the sight of bloodthirsty Vampyres, especially when you’re out of power and know you’re fucked.

I’m no match for motherfucking Vampyres right now, damn it!

Breaking my family’s collective illusion has damn near drained me, and I was already in need of another feeding.

“Amos, tell me you have something in the tank that could help us out,” I say as I join him at his side, while he pants his breaths in harsh bursts.

He glares over at me, and we both grip our swords, letting me know without words that we are decidedly fucked.

The traitorous Vampyres snigger like the bloodthirsty devils they are, as a few of them even mock our stances. More than a couple snap their fangs, and then cackle when we jerk back in response.

There’s a hiss at my neck, and I stumble forward, only to be shoved back by Dalek, one of Arion’s many cousins.

I work to regain my composure, not flinching with the next scare tactic, which happens to be Emily sliding down on her knees before me, while she licks her lips.

“Want a little taste of power to help you out, Morpheous? For old time’s sake?” she muses, giving me a wink.

Her fangs extend, and she grins as she waggles her eyebrows. I swallow the lump in my throat, as my balls shrivel.

I fucking hate Vampyres. I really bloody do.

“Amos, seriously, tell me you have at least a little something left,” I murmur as quietly as I can, while Emily slides away, laughing as she rejoins her family.

They’ve surrounded us, idly toying with us, because they have a cat-and-mouse mentality when they hunt.

“While you were playing with Father, I was busy trying to keep the very outnumbered three of us alive. I was planning on tons of sex at the after party. I had no idea the after party was going to be a bloodbath,” Amos informs me very angrily.

The Vampyres circle us, as the remainder of my family joins them, and they all smile like evil prats.

“Life was simpler when I didn’t bloody care,” I decide to point out, earning a hateful glare from Marta.

“Terribly stupid of you,” Emily says as she gives me a pointed look. “You knew you’d all have very few loyalists. Idun commands respect, and you’ve done nothing but disrespect her since she came out of the ground. Hell, it’s all you’ve ever done.”

“The last I checked, people don’t stay together forever just because one crazy ex gets too possessive,” I tell her, sneering. “We’re alphas too, Emily. Idun’s not in charge. She just thinks she is because no one is stronger.”

She grins a fanged smile, and then…she spins and removes her father’s head so fast I almost miss it.

By the time the others can react, she removes a brother’s head and a cousin’s head as well. Her mother lunges for her, and they crash in the air, as the other Vampyres spring into action, aimed toward us.

“A little fucking warning would be bloody nice,” I state to no one, reacting as quickly as I can.

A howl ignites the air, and the forest begins cracking, bringing the barely-started battle to an abrupt halt.

There’s a heavy clambering that’s never sounded so sweet before, rushing straight toward us.

Emit’s come.

And he’s brought a big fucking alpha pack.

“I could fucking cry right now,” Amos informs me, sounding damn serious.

A body drops to my side, and my eyes dart to my right to see Vancetto Van Helsing, just as he straightens to his full height. He stares at me with what can only be described as miserable anger.

“We need to talk. Just as soon as they’re all dead,” he says, gesturing to the now trapped Vampyres, who’ve taken the defensive stance.

The wolves circle all the Vampyres, who are circling us, and Emit moves to the front, eyes meeting mine.

“Nobody else lays a hand on him. He’s mine,” I say, directing a look at my father, whose eyes have gone from smug to incensed. Pretty sure there’s some dread mixed in