“I remember a time when women fought over who got me. Not shove me at each other like I’m a piece of fucking leftover meatloaf. For fuck’s sake, would some hair pulling be too much to ask?” I ask her seriously.
She looks like she’s too confused to respond for a second, as a humored sort of horror lights her eyes.
“I’ve lived for too fucking long,” I add as I huff and look away.
Lemon snorts, but then tries to give me a sympathetic nod. “It’s not because you’re not sexy. Out of all the wolves, you’re the sexiest. Just know that,” she assures me before turning to leave.
“What about the damn alphas?” I call to her back.
“Violet seems to be drawn to the bigger monsters. Why do you think Arion is her biggest weakness and Vance is now so far behind?” she answers over her shoulder. “She spent a week in your house tending to you after you put on your show.”
Games. It all feels like games again. I can’t remember the last time I was sucked into games. Violet’s games are confusing, since she doesn’t actually enjoy blood, gore, and violence. It’s just a part of her. Somehow she was born this way.
Which makes no sense, because that line is completely sterile.
Rolling my eyes, I lift my phone, wondering if anything new has been found on Violet’s father’s tree. She may very well be the Portocale gypsy who overlooks our sins, based on her experiences with her own. But if those green apples are what I believe them to be, then she may not forgive a sin that is still going strong.
I think that bastard I hired is working for Damien too, since this email is apparently meant for Damien instead of me.
He’s doing the same thing, it seems.
He’s going straight to hell if we’re right. You know, if we ever figure out a way to die.
Shaking out of my distraction, I call the last person in the world I want to speak to.
“Heard you went under. Since you’re calling, I guess that means you’ve come out of it. Six days. Not bad,” Arion says in a bored tone.
“I’m calling about Violet.”
“You have my attention,” he says idly, as someone in the background makes a pained noise.
At my sound of annoyance, the fucked up vampire says, “Okay, so now you have my attention.”
“Is there a way to liberate the Neopry family without liberating Idun?”
There’s a chilled silence on the other line.
There’s not a delicate way to beat around the bush about this one.
“You’re really calling me about raising the fucking Neopry family and playing it off like it’s for Violet?”
“Violet is tender hearted. When she hears the full story…” I start, unsure how to tread lightly without being too suspicious.
Not my strong suit. I’m not a subtle kind of guy.
“Is she? I hadn’t noticed. Perhaps we should tell her about what Idun is capable of, and then she won’t be so tender hearted,” he answers distractedly, pretending I don’t really have his attention anymore.
“Says the one who still wanted her raised when you went under. What changed, Arion? Why did you come up championing for Violet?”
It grows quiet for a second.
Too quiet.
I almost think he’s hung up on me, until he finally exhales loudly.
“Because Violet is simpler, and she makes me wonder if it can be just that easy. Do you not?” he asks, his wording almost causing me to snort derisively.
“Simpler,” I echo, shaking my head. What a fucking word to use in this complicated moment. “Can it be done or not?” I ask him.
“I have no idea. I never wasted time thinking about the Neopry family without Idun. They didn’t just allow her to be that monster; they groomed her for it. They can—”
“Not all the Neopry family played part in that,” I remind him.
“Are you honestly talking about the Simpleton stock then?” he asks incredulously.
“I…really think we should call them something else. Times have changed,” I say a little uncomfortably.
“Why the hell would I care about the Simpleton stock?” he goes on. “What even brought this on?”
“Out of all the gypsies, they were wronged the most. They’ve been under an extra five years on top of that, and—”
“Twenty-five years,” he interrupts. “No, wait, twenty-six now. I think.”
A chill sneaks up my spine.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. As you pointed out, I knew exactly when she was supposed to come up, and I was going to ensure it happened. Then you all put me under, conveniently timed.”
“Unrelated,” I state dismissively. “Twenty-six years?”
“Oh bloody hell, must I continue to repeat myself?” he asks, growing more annoyed.
“Go kill whatever it is you’re killing, so long as it’s not a wolf. That’s all I need.”
I hang up and drop my phone.
Violet just turned twenty-six.
She’s not a reincarnation, because she honestly has no clue what she even is, and she’s so much faster than any Simpleton. However, there’s only one monster whose heart counts down before the bottled up rage turns into pure, unfathomable power in the form of brute strength with no claws.
Enough power to rip apart a roomful of strong beta wolves in under five minutes without so much as a scratch on her person.
My eyes flick to my calendar, seeing the moon waning. I should stay away from her for a while.
I’m starting to see what’s so damn special about her and why my wolf has had me stalking her from the very beginning.
She’s the almost-perfect predator, after all.
At least in this era.
There was a time when the weak were the misfortunates. Now they’re the ones we strive to protect the hardest.
But Violet’s not really weak.
She’s just too damn young to know any better.
Chapter 6
VIOLET
That’s it. I’m about to unleash the motherfucking monster on whoever is banging on my door this early.
I stumble, barely getting my robe on, before I can finally open the damn door to…Vance Van Helsing.
What now?
He gives me a tight smile.
“I hear from every other alpha that you’re trying to find a way to remove the curse,” he says as he looks down at me.
“And that gets my door banged on at six in the morning?” I ask with barely one eye cracked open, admittedly pretty cranky about all the urgent knocking he’s done for ten straight minutes.
It’s not like I require a whole lot of sleep, but I get pretty pissed off when I’m robbed of the chance to sleep in.
Lemon walks by, putting a cup of coffee in my hand, just the way I like it. I sip it and make a mental note to beg them to stop waiting on me.
“Has Damien gone under or something?” I ask, getting a little more alert and slightly worried, even though I’m still really not sure how much I like him in this moment.
“Not yet. Get dressed. We’re going hunting,” he says randomly.
In my half-woke state, I feel like I’ve missed something crucial, because I don’t understand how those words are supposed to make sense.
“I’m sorry, but what?” I ask, sipping the coffee like the lack of caffeine is the reason I heard him wrong.
“We’re going hunting. Emit has some rogue, unregistered wolves who’ve just done something heinous and stupid, and we’re taking you with us, apparently.”
“I don’t want to hunt wolves,” I point out, taking a step back, since he’s acting very un-Vance-like.
“I don’t want you to hunt wolves, but apparently you’re going with us, or you’re going with him,” he says bitterly, glancing over his shoulder to where there’s a large SUV.
Emit’s behind the wheel, smirking like he’s proud of all this.
“Yeah, no. Thanks for the offer,” I say as I shut the door…and lock it.
I sip my coffee again, as Lemon drinks hers in the kitchen. Her phone rings, and she stands and answers it, while I go to the fridge in search of something to eat.
I hear the door unlocking, and look over my shoulder, as Lemon gives me a very unapologetic grin. “Sorry,” she says, confusing me. “But he’s still my alpha.”
Emit walks in, filling up my doorway, before he grins over at me in a way that’s sort of…scary.
“It’s not really optional,” he says before he stalks to me so fast I don’t have time to react, and I’m unceremoniously slung over his shoulder.
My breath comes out in a surprised rush, and I bounce against him as my mind comes to terms with why the world has tipped upside down.
Ingrid comes down the stairs with a small bag, giving me a shitty excuse for a contrite smile.
“I’ll remember this,” I tell the traitorous omegas dryly, as they give me a little wave and send me on my way like this is a planned vacation.
I don’t really put up a fight. I’ve never seen Emit actually determined to do anything, but clearly I’m outnumbered and out wolfed on this one.
His beard is the perfect amount of unkempt today to pull off the hot barbarian look, and Anna would love to see me over his shoulder.
That alone sends a sense of calm through me.