Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,156

find Violet’s ever-expanding parade of ‘ghosts,’ as they drop a few speakers here and there.

Because that makes perfect sense…

Talbot mentioned a gypsy name I haven’t heard in ages.

Jackals.

Telekinesis.

The Jackals were an old gypsy line with some harmless telekinesis skills, not too dissimilar to Shera’s line.

“Violet really can’t see ghosts?” I ask, allowing myself a moment for the pain to subside, before I push myself to my feet, staring over at the assortment of personalities.

“She really can’t,” he answers.

“And these are all…Violet?” I ask, as one ghost does the worm in the middle of the field they’ve nearly surrounded with speakers.

“In a manner of speaking. They’re all one suppressed section of Violet’s subconscious,” he answers.

“And you’ve been reading my Flame’s teenage journals,” I also comment, wondering why I didn’t think of that first.

“If you think reading her adolescent journal is an invasion of privacy, then you aren’t fully understanding the gravity of what this means,” Talbot adds, misunderstanding my tone, apparently.

I roll with it and simply stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Hyde takes the suppressed pieces of one’s subconscious and turns it into a personality. Or in this case, fifty or more personalities. That number took an alarming swing into higher numbers fairly recently.”

He swallows a little thicker, proving he’s been hiding a lot of his fear until now.

“I should have realized Violet was on the verge of losing control,” he continues, sounding damn near apologetic.

“You know this thing better than we do. What the hell is it up to with all the speakers?” I ask, mostly because I’m damn near numb.

I don’t know how to process this information. Especially since I’m more concerned with finding Violet than getting an explanation of what Violet’s monster is capable of.

Centuries of seeing Idun’s sharp, versatile, and damn near invincible power, versus over a year of watching Violet bobble her way through one crisis after another.

It doesn’t sound even near the realm of possible, even though it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve considered it a possibility.

“Ever feel like two worlds are colliding, and you don’t know which one is about to crack under the pressure?” I ask him, still unmoving, as I watch the ghosts toil and play.

It doesn’t make any sense.

At all.

“That’s because you see Violet, rather than seeing what Violet is capable of. I’ve made that mistake more times than I can count. As I said, a constant, cosmic coin toss, that girl. She works hard to be that good, because, as you can see, her head is entirely fucked up.”

Again, he gestures toward the ghosts, who are…playing telekinetic soccer with…Taylor Neopry’s head…

How’d they get his head?

“Is this the new world?” I ask Talbot very quietly.

Given the fact that Taylor’s eyes are wide and frozen open, that means someone has put his heart back inside his chest…wherever that may be.

This is power to the next level. Taylor is a powerful alpha, and the ‘ghosts’ are using his head as a toy.

“I can’t imagine Violet condoning this. While I certainly find it alarming that she’s this powerful, what scares me the most is the fact this isn’t Violet at all,” I tell Talbot.

“Hyde doesn’t grant the host’s truest wishes, Alpha. Hyde is the darkest recesses of the mind. Don’t be scared yet. This is just the beginning, if we don’t manage to find a way to suppress it again. Marta can’t make a spirit bind strong enough to hold it back anymore. But there’s another way. If—”

“I’ll bring Violet back by myself,” I snap, slamming him into a tree, and holding him by the collar of his shirt.

His eyes widen marginally, as my own eyes narrow to slits.

“I may not know what’s going on, and I have no idea what to believe right now. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m ready to find out. What I do know is that Violet will not be lost to her monster, and you’ll not be using anymore blood magic. I haven’t trusted blood magic in too many centuries to count, because of my own multi-cursed soul.”

I feel the monster attempting to rise to the surface, but I’m fortunately too weak. Otherwise, this could end up in bloodshed and a newfound, powerful enemy. Neither of which is something I want or need in my life.

“Even if it kills me, I’ll break into her mind and guide her. If I’m her weakness, then I’ll use it to my advantage, and drag her the fuck back into the driver’s seat,” I assure him.

His eyes go