His footsteps quickly turn into a whisper of wind that leaves that telling chill racing up my spine.
“You’re an idiot,” Shera says as she walks in.
“So are you for knocking,” I point out, my expressionless game face slipping back into place, as she gives me a look that makes me feel stupid.
“Like I’d be that idiotic. It was Isiah. He’s rather anti-you, since you’re being blamed by him and Emily for my break up,” she states with a tight, humorless smile.
Why is there music playing so loud?
“Awesome,” I state, tossing my thumb up.
She gives me a slow shake of her head. “You don’t realize how protected you are by Arion, but that protection stems as far as his interest in you, Violet. I’m putting him in a bit of jam with this breakup, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t go and fuck things up for me. M’kay?” she asks, a very serious but calm expression on her face.
“Is this you being that pretend badass?” I ask her, gesturing toward her stance.
She gives me a bit of a glare. “I’m not a pretend badass. The flair is just dramatic. You really misunderstood that entire conversation,” she says like I’ve started to exhaust her now.
“Which conversation? The real one when you thought we were going to die—”
“You can come back to life the way they do, can’t you?” she butts in, her eyes flicking over me. “Arion was far too calm that day.”
“That’s a normal thing to suspect so easily?” I ask in deflection.
“Aside from the alphas, it’s impossible, but I determine what is or isn’t possible based on the surrounding circumstances. All the things they’ve been alluding to today…”
She lets her words trail off, and oddly, she fidgets with her hands.
“Just give me something, because I’ve told you far too much and there should be more balance in our budding friendship,” she adds in closing, determined eyes sweeping back up to meet mine.
She gestures between us, and I groan.
“What are you?” she outright asks.
I…don’t want to deal with this right now.
With a straight face, I answer, “The forgotten monster that made clumsy bumps in the night. You’re safe with me…so long as I don’t panic,” I tell her as I turn and walk out.
I expect some follow-up questions, but when I turn to look over my shoulder, she doesn’t look surprised or even farther intrigued—as if she knew the answer and just needed some sort of confirmation, even vague silliness like I spewed. If anything, she almost looks like she feels sorry for me.
“I’ll remain with your father until you get home to take him into your own custody,” she says, all business, as everything else sort of shuts down on her face. “He’s not allowed to leave town or go unsupervised by someone Arion’s not approved of,” she continues, causing my brow to furrow.
“He has a business, and he doesn’t live here. He even has—”
“He put a stake through Arion’s heart, and too many vampires have heard those whispers. It’s already an issue, Violet,” she cuts in, a slightly annoyed look now crossing her features. “Stupid vampires who masquerade as brave and fearless are too often found in every dark corner of every House. He doesn’t leave your custody because he may or may not be killed by a vampire. Do you see the full extent of Arion’s affections for you, or should I spell it out the rest of the way?”
I take my own breath of annoyance when she grows increasingly condescending.
“He obviously doesn’t receive protection if he makes a threat on an alpha,” I deduce.
“But Arion is extending protection to said fool when in company of his prized possession,” she adds, heaping on the condescension. “Keep rejecting him, and eventually—”
“I just found out my mother quite literally lied to me my entire life, and I’m trying to reason that in my head,” I cut in this time, my tone growing a little harsh.
Shera looks briefly confused as she clears her throat and looks down. Possibly guilt? Do vampires feel guilt?
With the music blaring from somewhere, I’m not too worried about being overheard.
“I’m grateful to Arion, but Arion is the type of guy who will take sex, or whatever it is he wants, to the next level real damn fast. I’m clinging to the brake of a skidding car off the side of a snowy mountain every second I’m with him. I currently don’t have the emotional fortitude to tackle something like that, and to be honest, I’m more concerned with the rest of my life falling into hundreds of pieces all around me while I try to stand under the raining debris.”
My voice cracks near the end, which is the only thing that halts my rant. She continues to look down, and even gives a lazy toe tap, nodding like she gets it.
“Sorry,” she finally says. “Your lack of reaction is sometimes mistaken for casual dismissal. I thought you’d taken your mother’s betrayal quite easily.”
“Just because she lied, it doesn’t mean she betrayed me,” I say as I turn and walk briskly toward the stairs. “Mom always has a reason,” I add very firmly, even as I swallow the lump in my throat.
Arion is staring idly, twirling a pencil in his hand, perching himself next to a desk, as I finish descending the stairs. Dad is nowhere to be seen, and Damien’s eyes are…telling.
“You’re working an illusion,” I say without preamble.
He reaches over and cuts the music off, smiling tightly.
“There’s something going on you don’t want or need to see, love,” Arion says with a dark smile and dead eyes. “You were supposed to take the front exit with your father.”
He glances up the stairs to where Shera is swallowing hard. “Sorry, Alpha. Got distracted,” she says quickly. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I really hate it when you order her to drive me around like I’m incapable and she’s a slave,” I point out with a bit of admitted misdirected anger.
A harsh exhale escapes me once again, but I feel some minor relief when Vance moves in behind me, kissing the side of my neck, as his arms go around my waist.
“We’ve already established that I’m driving Violet and her father home, not Shera. I’ll return. She needs to pack and square the store away with the omegas if we’re leaving in two days,” Vance says, worrying me a little.
Given how very attentive they all are on me, I’m actually glad I can’t see whatever it is I shouldn’t be seeing. Or they’re being deliberately confusing about the driving situation on purpose to distract me from what I shouldn’t be a party to right now.
“Can I talk to you before I go?” I ask Damien.
“Of course,” Damien answers, moving toward the side door.
His brow furrows, as Arion disappears from the room. In less than a few blinks, Arion returns with a pair of red boots and a red coat, both beautiful.
“Tell the animals she’s special, and the animals start treating her like she’s invincible,” Arion says with a roll of his eyes.
Everyone looks confused.
“It’s cold outside,” he adds like he’s spelling it out…for Emit.
Emit gives him a small growl, as Arion holds out the jacket for me, giving it an impatient wiggle when I study how similar the fabric is to my mother’s cloak.
My eyes flick to his, but his attention is solely on dressing me for the cold, so I put one arm in, turn, and then do the same with the other, as he assists the process.
Spying the ghost triplets off in the corner, I pause, watching as they all three simply glare at me, while Arion kneels and begins helping me slip on my matching red, and very softly lined, boots.
Arion’s hand slides up my calf as he finishes putting the first boot on, and I take in the look of concentration on his face. I lift my other foot, reaching to his shoulder for balance, while he helps me into it as well.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, which seems to make his forehead crease like he’s confused, before he quickly moves away with his back to me.
The triplets are gone when I look over again.
Damien starts guiding me out, and I shake out of my distraction.
“Are we going to be able to raise them early or something?” I ask Damien, who clears his throat.
“No, unfortunately, we’re bound by the gypsy moon for the gypsy rising,” he says tightly. “Which is the full moon.”
“Does anything going on in there have anything to do with me?” I ask, gesturing toward the house where the shady activity is transpiring.
“I’ll fill you in completely, once I have the facts,” he assures me, softly cupping my cheek as we stop walking a few feet away from the door.
I nod like that’s acceptable, already feeling overwhelmed for the day.
His hand moves to be even gentler, gingerly stroking the side of my neck as it lowers, and his eyes soften.
“Your mother’s enemies don’t yet seem to be your enemies. Is that a good sign for those of us desperately overthinking each second with you at current?” he asks with a casualness I don’t see in his eyes.
“Of course you’re not my enemies,” I say, getting that out of the way, before sucking in a fortifying breath.
I can’t figure out what to say. He lied for Vance—twice. I’m not an idiot, and all of them look surprised any time he’s inexplicably nice to Vance.
He wasn’t nice to Vance today. He was nice to me—ensuring I didn’t walk out of here alone if I felt betrayed by everyone else.
A thought niggles into my mind, distracting me from my own mental tangent. It’s a sucky day to be me. Those days are coming in more frequently lately, and I’d really like to know which cosmic cluster of stars I need to flip the bird.
“You all feign guilt over the wrongs of the past, because you’ve numbed yourself to actually feeling that guilt,” I say very quietly.
“No,” he interrupts, holding up one finger as he arches an eyebrow. “We just didn’t feel guilty again until…you. Especially after the most recent revelations pouring in back to back,” he adds with sincere, unapologetic honesty.
He runs a frustrated hand over his face as he leans against the wall, looking like the most beautiful man no matter how mussed he is. It’s an unfair advantage because of the inconvenient distraction it provides time and time again.
I really like pretty things, damn it.
“My head hurts,” I decide aloud when my brain actually tries to meltdown between mental tangents. “I feel like I’m trying to reboot, but I’m a person and not a machine, so it’s sort of not working.”
I quite literally plop down on the snow, aching all over, as the heavy weight of emotion settles onto me with a physical, seemingly tangible, mass.
He hisses out a breath and drops to a knee beside me, before starting to lift me.