Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,39

while I pant for air and stare in horror at all the new faces.

“Now we can gather you more answers. And you can loan us your body from time to time. Without letting it kill us, of course,” the triplets state in unison.

“Go. Away!” I say to all the ghosts, who are staring at me with far too much interest.

No one listens to me. Ever. I don’t know why I bother making demands.

All the ghosts move in closer, and I whimper to myself.

“We have an army now,” the creepy triplets say in their world-domination tone.

These are the same creepers who want me to fuck all the deviants to break the Portocale curse and feed all the vampire alphas for the same reason.

“I have severe boundaries in place between you and I. You crossed them. Then you manipulated me into—”

“Vance just walked in,” Anna says, talking over me. “And he’s heading this way.”

Great. Just as I’ve accidentally summoned a multitude of new creepy spirits.

“Everyone tried telling me not to talk to the dead. I should have listened,” I state, glaring over at Anna.

She smiles. “You miss me when I’m gone.”

“I’ve been doing so much sort of right that I forgot what a colossal fuck-up I am,” I state entirely to myself. “This is an excellent reminder.”

In the next instant, I twirl my finger, and salt sprays from the pantry, covering the room. Ghosts are immediately ejected, and I whirl around to pretend I’m not an idiot, who has just made yet another problem a bigger problem.

Vance walks in, nearly missing a step when he catches me already staring in his direction like I was waiting on him. I don’t know how to play things cool.

He glances around, and frowns.

“Why are their salt grains slinking under your pantry door?”

“Not important. Did you need something?” I ask in deflection, shifting to obstruct his line of view somewhat.

He cuts his gaze back to me, emotion lying in their depths once the distraction is gone.

“I know you don’t understand how much my dignity means to me, but if you want me on my knees in apology for the five months—”

“I don’t want you on your knees, Vance. I want to give you a hard time about it, because I don’t want it to happen again. But I’ve recently come to understand one very important thing. Those five months you spent watching Idun kept Idun from fucking with me. I’d have never gotten this place finished so quickly if the four of you had tried to help instead of giving her exactly what she wanted. Those laws would have never been passed. Nothing would have gone this smoothly if you’d been involved. I’m glad you were stupid. That’s right. I said it,” I confess on a long sigh.

He blinks as if he’s surprised.

“I feel both insulted and complimented,” he says, bristling as he straightens his tie.

“That’s because it was an insulting compliment. You can’t complain about those, since they’re almost the only sort of compliment you dole out on the regular.”

“We’re back to you treating me as I treat you, then?” he asks with a nearly-there smirk.

I hate it when he looks playful. Vance in playful mode is damn near tempting, and my vagina is still on cool-down mode.

“So all’s finally forgiven now that you’ve had time to weigh your thoughts?” he muses.

“I may have reacted rashly with the dramatic breakup. Blame it on bad advice. Or good advice. To be honest, I’m not sure. You guys are definitely around more, regardless,” I tell him, earning a small grin from the Van Helsing. “I’m grateful to have had this part go smoothly. All’s forgiven.”

He exhales a harsh breath, almost sagging in disbelief.

“You really do zag just to cause a man to trip over his premeditated path, don’t you?” he asks, sounding slightly irritated, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I came in here ready to argue my case, and now I’m left with pointless adrenaline.”

I’m not sure why it always seems to piss him off when I agree with him about something.

“Use that pointless adrenaline to explain to me why you ever loved Idun if all the terrible stories about her are true,” I suggest, only mildly curious about his past life decisions.

He gives me a bland look, but surprisingly comes to hop on the counter next to my pot, that has turned to black, pointless goo.

“Do I want to know what you were doing here?” he asks, shooting me a curious look.

“Not as