Page 81 of Sweet Nightmare

But the storm has gotten worse in the time we’ve been standing here, and a gust of wind slams into us, knocking me back several feet.

“I know we just hid this from your mom, but Jean-Claude’s attitude changed my mind. Now I’m wondering if we need to call in reinforcements. What do you think?”

“I have no idea,” I answer as we start walking. The wind and rain are coming so furiously now that we’re almost bent in half as we force our way through it. “I agree that something’s weird about it, but I don’t have a clue what it is.”

“What about talking to Jude about it? If he was in the cellar, he obviously knows something about what’s going on.”

“Yeah, but that just means he could be involved,” I shout to be heard over the storm. “It’s not like he’s told me anything about it.”

“Have you asked him?” When I remain silent, she gives me a look. “How can you know what he knows or doesn’t know—or what he’s doing or not doing—if you don’t talk to him?”

It’s not bad advice. It really isn’t. But still, I instinctively start to say no. Then I think about the look on Jean-Claude’s face and reconsider. Maybe I need to manticore up and talk to Jude about this damn tapestry. Maybe he can help.

Or maybe he’ll tell me something that sets my teeth on edge.

Either way, though, it might be time I actually ask.

“Maybe,” I agree as we finally get to the covered picnic area in the center of the mall. It’s left over from resort days, and while the tables aren’t in the best shape, it provides a little bit of shelter from the elements, and right now I’ll definitely take it. “If I can ever pin him down for longer than a few seconds.”

“Text him,” she suggests.

I seize up. “Oh, I don’t think—”

She rolls her eyes and yanks my phone out of my back pocket. “Obviously, your relationship—whatever it is—is going through some kind of shift. He saved you today. Twice. Plus, I saw the way he looked at you when he carried you out of the dungeon. It won’t bother him at all if you text him.”

“I don’t care if it bothers him,” I tell her. “I care if…”

“If what?” she asks impatiently.

“I don’t want to look…”

“What?” she demands when I trail off again.

“Needy, I guess. I mean, he kissed me again today and then rejected me again. What about that says, ‘I’ll be there for you when you need me’?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about when he saved you from dying unmeshed?” she asks archly. “Or when he saved you yet again from the grossest monster in existence? The guy obviously has no problem being there when you need him.” She holds my phone out to me. “Besides, it’s not needy to try to get information from the one guy who seems to have a clue about what’s going on. Text the boy already. Ask him your question.”

She’s right. I’m totally not the kind of girl to stand around dithering about what a guy is going to think of something she does. And the awkwardness between me and Jude isn’t about to change me into that, either. So I fire off a quick couple of texts in a row, refusing to let myself think about if he’s going to answer or not.

Me: Are you done at the menagerie?

Me: Something weird is going on, and I was hoping I could talk to you about it

Me: Something even weirder than what’s already happened, I mean

When he doesn’t immediately answer, I shove my phone back into my pocket and start walking again.

“He’s probably still shelling out snacks for the monsters,” Eva tells me.

It’s my turn to roll my eyes as we leave the relative safety of the covered patio and turn the corner and start down the path that leads to our cottage. “I know. It’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine. I was just saying—”

She breaks off as the door of the first cottage on the path flies open, and a lean, muscled arm drags her inside.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

HEY JUDE

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