Page 145 of Sweet Nightmare

The others, all of whom came running, stop a few feet behind Jean-Luc, knowing it’s not the best idea to get closer.

“Shut up!” Jean-Luc growls, his face twisted in rage as his gaze shifts to Jean-Jacques. “Did you check it? Is that the tapestry?”

Jean-Jacques nods. “This is it.”

“Good. Get it out of here.” His grip tightens on the knife, and suddenly a lot more blood slides down Izzy’s throat.

Alarm shoots through me even before he continues. “I’m going to take care of this and then I’ll be right behind—”

And that’s when Izzy strikes.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

HERE TODAY,

JEAN TOMORROW

She reaches up and grabs the thumb holding the knife and bends it straight back until a loud cracking sound fills the air.

Jean-Luc’s corresponding scream is high-pitched and childish as he jerks back and immediately drops the knife. Which Izzy catches in midair, spins around in her hand, and then plunges directly into the center of his chest.

She twists it—several times—before pulling it out.

Jean-Luc is dead before he hits the floor.

Izzy doesn’t even bother to step out of the way. Just kicks him once he falls, then brings the knife to her mouth and licks the blade from hilt to tip.

When she’s done, she looks up to find all of us staring at her, eyes wide and mouths agape. But she just shrugs and says, “What? Everyone else got a snack.”

I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that. I don’t think anyone else does, either.

Except for Remy, who steps forward to press gentle fingers to Izzy’s throat. “It doesn’t look too bad, but we should probably bandage it up.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “I got worse than this from dear old Dad on nights he was actually pleased with me.”

She leaves the rest unsaid, but considering she just killed a person and is completely unfazed, I figure it wasn’t good.

Jude turns to Jean-Jacques, who is currently staring down at Jean-Luc’s body in shock, and yanks the tapestry out of his hands. “Get out of here,” he snarls.

Jean-Jacques nods as he stumbles backward, but before he can actually move away, Jean-Paul flies straight toward us, with Jean-Claude right behind him. Their wings are working double time, and their faces are twisted in rage as Jean-Paul screams, “You fucking bitch!” at Izzy.

Her brows go up and a dangerous smile plays around her lips, one that hints that Jean-Jacques might be the only Jean-Jerk left alive. If he’s lucky. Which is why, when her hand tightens on the hilt of the knife, I all but throw myself in front of her.

“You guys need to go—”

Jean-Jacques kicks me in the head, hard, and I reel back, seeing stars. Jude bounds forward and snatches the fae out of the air and plows a huge fist straight into the middle of his face. That’s all it takes for Jean-Jacques to go out.

Moments later, Jude does the same to Jean-Paul before dumping both unconscious fae next to Jean-Luc’s body. Then he turns to Jean-Claude, both brows raised—which is all it takes to have the other fae stumbling over his own feet to get away.

Once he’s gone, the rest of us take a moment to let everything that just happened sink in.

I know it was justified—or as justified as killing ever could be.

But Jean-Luc is dead. And Izzy killed him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

I don’t know how to deal with that even though I’m surrounded by so much death. All I can do is look at the singular past version of Jean-Luc standing over his still-bleeding present body, somehow, a smug look still on his face.

“Are you okay?” Jude asks, voice low and urgent as he searches my face.

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