Page 144 of Sweet Nightmare

In response, Jean-Claude launches himself at Jude’s back. I move to intercept him, but Jude’s already whirling around, eyes fierce and tattoos giving off a strange, mesmerizing glow as they slide down his hands and up his throat.

“Stop!” a familiar voice yells from the center of the room. “Stop this right now!”

I turn to see my grandparents racing back and forth from one end of the room to the other. Several times, Grandpa stops to try to help someone, but he can’t. His hands go right through whoever he’s trying to save, and it’s obvious he’s getting more and more worked up.

I turn back to Jude because the last thing I want to do is leave him if he needs me. But both Jean-Jerks are now face down on the floor, and he’s helping Ms. Aguilar to her feet.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him before racing to my dead grandparents.

But halfway there, I notice something else. Something absolutely terrifying. Jean-Luc and Jean-Jacques are in full fae form as they creep toward Izzy—and that damn tapestry.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

FEEL THE

RUG BURN

“Jude!” I scream to be heard over all the fighting and confusion surrounding us.

He turns around instantly, raised brows following my pointed finger.

His face goes dark as soon as he realizes what’s happening, and then we’re both running straight for Izzy, yelling her name.

But she’s got her head down and her eyes closed. Could she possibly be…sleeping? She’s facing away from us and doesn’t turn around when we shout her name. I will her to turn around, will myself to go faster, but it’s too late. The Jean-Jerks are already on her.

Jean-Luc walks up to the back of the couch and grabs her by the hair, twisting it around his fist before yanking her head back to rest against his shoulder.

Then he flicks one of her AirPods onto the ground before leaning down and whispering God only knows what obscenities into her ear.

In the meantime, Jean-Jacques moves around to the front of the couch and grabs the tapestry. As soon as he’s got it in his hands, he does a little victory dance, right in front of all of us.

What the hell is it with these guys and that damn tapestry?

I pray that’s all they want, pray that they take the tapestry and go. We can track them down later. I just don’t want them to hurt her. I’ve learned the hard way just how petty and vengeful they are, and Izzy has already made them look like fools more than once. If they decide now is the time they want payback, things are about to get ugly. Quick.

As Jude and I close in, Jean-Luc pulls a knife out of his hoodie and runs the hilt of it up Izzy’s arm. She doesn’t so much as flinch, even when he flips the knife over and scrapes the blade against her skin.

I can’t say the same as I shudder when I recognize it as one of the blades she stabbed into Jean-Luc’s desk yesterday. Looks like petty and vengeful is definitely on the current agenda.

Considering the chaos around us and that Danson is distracted, I can definitely see why this is the perfect moment to strike.

I put on a final burst of speed, but Jude still gets to them a second before I do.

“Let her go, asshole,” he snarls as he jumps the couch so he can look Jean-Luc and Izzy in the eye.

Jean-Luc has already moved the knife to Izzy’s throat by the time I race around the couch. “I have to admit, I’ve always been curious,” he says as he presses the blade into Izzy’s skin just enough to draw one perfect drop of blood. “Do vampires bleed as much as other paranormals or do they have the same coagulant in their blood that they do in their saliva?” He presses a little deeper. “Don’t you think now seems like a perfect time to find out?”

“Seriously?” Izzy tells him. “Where do you get your lines? Creepers ‘R’ Us?” And then she yawns. She actually yawns while a dangerous jackass with an axe to grind has a knife to her throat.

“Fuck you!” Jean-Luc snarls as he yanks her roughly over the back of the couch. As he does, the knife digs even more deeply into her throat, and blood starts to run freely from the cut.

“Don’t hurt her!” I yell, hands out in front of me in an effort to prove that I’m not a threat.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Clementine,” he says in a sing-songy voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Because all of a sudden, he doesn’t sound sane.

“Fine, I’ll tell you what to do,” Izzy says in a bored, monotone voice. “Let me go or you’ll be sorry.” But then her gaze shifts to mine, and there’s an impishness there that I don’t understand. At least not until she continues, “That’s my line, right? Or should I beg the big, bad man not to hurt me?” She makes her voice small and childlike as she says the last part and even flutters her eyes for effect. “Please, please, I’m so scared.”

Jude shoots me a what-the-fuck look.

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