Home > Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(9)

Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(9)
Author: Kristy Cunning

Not moving my head off his chest, I lean back to peer up at his fascinatingly soulful eyes, and he stares down at me. It’s now I realize he’s twirling my blade with his free hand like it’s not a dangerous weapon.

“Mom always made sure to find cellars for our homes, whether we rented or owned. Once I moved out, I used my cellar and hers. Until she moved here and told me she’d have me out once she finished something important,” I explain with a shrug.

The blade twirling stops, and he balances the tip of the blade on one finger almost absent-mindedly, as he huffs out a breath and hands my blade back to me.

Warily, I take it by the handle—hilt. By the hilt. Then I discard it onto the nightstand beside me so I don’t accidentally stab one of us.

“We need to have a discussion about your mother on a day when you haven’t been rescued from pureblood wolf abductors,” he says before kissing the top of my head. “For now, let’s discuss why you put the knife up instead of using it on Abby before she took you.”

I shrug a shoulder and look away. “I didn’t expect her to grab Arion, so it’s good I went.”

He laughs humorlessly, almost like he wants to throttle me and kiss me at once, as he pulls me tighter to his body.

“Arion can handle himself, Violet,” he bites out.

“At that moment, he was defenseless. Shera said it herself,” I answer quietly, just realizing that he’s actually pissed right now.

Maybe I shouldn’t mention anything about Shera at all—in case of misplaced anger and all.

He scrubs a hand over his face like he wants to choke me.

“I only get one shot with that knife, so I’m saving it for the perfect moment. Abby staring right at me and not looking away as she approached was not the right moment,” I add as a better explanation.

“I’ll give it endless hits for you, Violet. Don’t get taken again, please,” he says curtly, sounding…a little exhausted.

“It was a big deal for you to give me that. I could tell by everyone’s collective reaction. That means it’s a big responsibility to use it at the right time. Abby wasn’t the right time.”

“Abby is the perfect time when she’s informing you she’s by herself and abducting you,” he argues.

“She wasn’t alone. She simply came inside alone,” I explain. “You learn more when you let them take you, and I woke up early from the faint because I wasn’t hurt. It was all learn-as-I-go sort of steps, because I’ve never been kidnapped ‘alive’ and locked up before. Well, not other than that one time by the cult, but I was knocked out pretty hard that time. Anyway, Shera and I were getting close to escaping,” I assure him.

“You wouldn’t let me find you.”

I feel scolded.

“They took a really long loop, so I don’t think it would have mattered if I had let you find me,” I state in deflection.

“Trust me, Violet, I can find you when you let me. Just like I found you at Arion’s. I could smell vampire, more specifically, Shera, because you wanted to be found that time.”

He glares down at me like he’s making a point, and I lean up to my elbows, holding his eyes, as I drop a kiss to his chest. His eyes move with the motion as I plant another chaste kiss and stand, still wearing nothing but my embarrassing underwear and Arion’s shirt.

My legs feel sturdier, and I no longer feel dizzy from the extreme loss of blood. I hope Arion enjoyed that; he’s never getting a drink again.

“I didn’t want you to find me,” I say to him while my back is turned. “There wasn’t any need in risking more people. Shera was already stuck there with me, and I was worried what happened if we got caught.”

“You were trying to protect me?” he asks in a hushed tone, eyes staring ahead as he makes a humorless snort. “Maybe in the future you’ll remember what I’m capable of and not be so hesitant to let me find you.”

“You foresee more wolf kidnappings in my future?” I ask, trying not to process any of that yet, as I glance over some of the new swords he’s mounted in his room since my last visit.

“Not if Abby was the only leader and those were the only wolves under her,” he says very dismissively.

I turn and look over my shoulder again, finding his gaze casually drifting over my legs.

“Why is it that you never lie in bed with me the way you will with Emit?” he asks, his eyes colliding with mine with the same abrupt abandon used for the random conversation shift.

Since I feel uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze, I look away, hearing Damien down the hall.

“If Violet’s awake, share her,” Damien calls out, laughing in a way that suggests he’s definitely been celebrating with more than champagne.

“You look uncomfortable. Am I really so bad, Violet?” Vance asks on a frustrated sigh, when I attempt to use Damien’s cue to get out without answering.

I frown over at him. “Of course not. You’re a monster slayer and I’m a monster,” I say like it explains everything. “It’s going to take a little more time for me to warm up.”

“Lie,” he states with an eyebrow arch, as though he’s figured me out already and knows my tells.

I move back to the unoccupied side of the bed to take a seat on the edge, and roll my eyes.

“The lie sounds much more mature than the real reason,” I assure him, but he just stares expectantly, apparently not letting me out of here with my dignity.

“You’re sort of the high-school-quarterback type, and those types just have secretive, unimportant flings with the death-obsessed, horrible-dancing, young-and-naïve damsels-in-distress, who get themselves in more trouble than they’re worth. Trouble finds me no matter what, it seems. The cults want me outside the town, and the monsters want me inside the town.”

With zero expression on his own face, he just studies me like there needs to be more said.

“I’m not sure what a high-school-quarterback comparison means exactly,” he finally tells me, lips pursing.

He’s cute when he’s confused. It’s hard to find a guy who looks as good as Vance cute very often.

“It means you’re a legendary golden boy, a bit of a cocky dick in attitude, and the expectations for the chick you’re with must be astronomical by this point.” My eyes flick to his as I add, “When sex is involved, it feels like I’m the only person in the world you want to see, and it feels like you want to be with me. But when sex is over, so is the way you look at me.”

He moves so fast that I don’t have time to react, and I end up on my back with him settled between my legs, pushing a lock of hair out of my face, as he stares down at me.

“I’m a very distracted man, Violet,” he tells me as he casually pulls one of my arms around his neck. “It’s truly a curse,” he goes on, bringing my other arm up around his neck.

My legs tremble against him, even as they tighten.

“Some days, it gives me actual brain aneurisms, but that won’t kill me. Instead of whining about it, I deal with it like any dignified man. Some days, I may say or do the wrong things because of the foul mood such moments leave me in,” he states conversationally, even as his lips lightly brush mine.

Those damn butterflies try to go to work.

“Violet!” Emit calls from down the hall like they’re all getting impatient, yet still humored to no end.

I’ve put off my conversation with Emit for way too long, but I was preparing for a fight that I never had, and now my body is riddled with left-over nervous energy. I definitely don’t need to tackle that problem right now.

Vance stands abruptly, moving away from me and leaving a bereft feeling in his wake, as he remains shirtless. The low-slung waist of his soft, gray pajama pants aren’t what makes my lips edge up in a small smile; it’s the slippers he slides his feet into like it’s not a big thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man wear old-school slippers outside of a commercial.

But Vance is a man of fine comfort and unapologetically plans each piece of comfort into his intensely uncomfortable days. He’s already tying a very plush robe into place, and clears his throat when I just continue to spend a little too long admiring him.

I blame it on the shit week I’ve been having.

I’m starting to better appreciate all the nicer things when they come along.

“I’m reminding myself of the hellish time you’ve had in the past forty-eight hours, at current,” he tells me like it’s a casual confession. “I’m going to need you to stop looking at me like that before I make an impulsive, likely insensitive decision to stop showing restraint.”

Before I can mentally assess where my head is at, Arion walks in, swings his gaze over me still wearing his shirt, and grins as he makes his shirtless way to me.

If I had to label his look, I’d call him a gothic rocker.

“You really bloody broke our curses,” he tells me like he’s both awed and…I’m not sure why that unknown, infused emotion in his eyes has me slightly worried I’ve rushed into something.

Arion’s intense on a normal day.

This isn’t a normal day.

As usual, his hands are on me in the next instant, pulling me to him, and I exhale a tired breath.

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