Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,60

of the hallway, where Idun is on her way to Caroline, but distracts her, charms her, and guides her away…

Damien is in another scene when the world around me once again changes. He’s doing something similar. Twice his gaze flicks toward Caroline’s cell, and he lures Idun away after what seems to be an eternity of flattery.

I wish I knew more than one language.

Emit’s in several scenes after that, charming Idun away from Caroline, distracting her.

They tried to help her without making it obvious, in an effort to keep Idun from punishing the poor monster that much more.

“Why didn’t you run away when you learned of the altar, Caroline? Why did you let them turn you immortal?” I ask, watching as she peers around the corner.

Once she’s sure all is clear, she lifts a painting from under a stone in the floor, dusts it off, and smiles down at it. It’s one of the original Portocale men, which gives me my answer.

She loved a man enough to follow him into eternity, even after he coldly broke her heart.

I can only imagine how Idun must have sold it at first, during the time she was pitching immortality among women and men with humble morals and values.

Idun trusted them, and they betrayed her, in an effort to help Caroline as much as they reasonably could. They did have hearts. Even the soulless vampire.

The next several scenes result in some majorly eye-opening insight into all their paranoia, because I watch Idun mentally torture them with all her many faces.

So many times, Damien is so furious and disgusted that tears gather in his eyes, when she turns out to be the true woman he was feeding from. Idun laughs in every scene for having pulled another one over on him.

I finally understand why he was so cold to me, and why he immediately assumed me to be Idun.

She’s fucked with his head too many times for me to even count on this never-ending reel of memories.

Emit’s been just as tortured. Idun doesn’t pull punches.

All his reels result in the same disgust and fury.

Vance as well, given the never-ending strand of endless swaps. He seems less bothered by it. He was good about not allowing her to provoke him, even though I see the anger in his eyes when he turns around. His jaw subtly tics, and he walks out casually.

Time. And time. And time again.

For Arion, she only wears that one face that is so eerily similar to Shera. He doesn’t stare at her like he wants to rip her clothes off. He stares at her like she’s a comforting, rhythmic set of waves that lull you into peace.

She was the woman he loved back when he was another man. One with less confusion and constant uncertainty. One with faith and a path. One who had hope for better days and wouldn’t shed a drop of blood.

Arion gives and gives, rarely ever defying her openly. She rewards him by weakening him, treating him like shit, and never once showing him an ounce of kindness.

“Sing, gypsies, sing of your truths,” I sing, unprepared for the truth.

I’m rather sick of all the obvious surprises by this point.

Chapter 17

VANCE

After I finish pulling my sword from yet another wolf I’ve downed, I turn and put on the show everyone needs to see, damning Emit.

He, in turn, puts on a show of condemning me to hell. Idun backs me, and Emit shrinks back, as we close in on him and Damien.

Arion’s sitting this one out, since he always takes killing the wolves too far.

Idun runs her finger up my arm, kissing my shoulder, and I shrug her off, since she knows better than to touch me so intimately in such a public setting.

Glaring at her earns me a scowl, but I turn and head toward the woods, while Emit and Damien retreat.

We meet in our private spot, just as we always do after a big show or over-the-top battle—a rundown safehouse in the woods.

Damien is sitting and laughing with Emit about something, and they both flip me the finger when I enter.

Arion’s working on painting a picture. He’s carried around that small canvas for weeks.

Idun goes to sit on Emit’s lap, and though his jaw grinds, he allows it, while she sticks her hand out to show Damien the minor wound he left her with.

Eyes sharp and somewhat narrowed, he takes her hand, kissing it, even as his jaw clenches with the action.

It gets harder and harder to play