Page 87 of Sweet Nightmare

“Really? Who in this school can’t you get if you put your mind to it? Especially considering that little demonstration you just treated us to.” She’s clearly not ready to let this go, and part of me wants to ask her how she can be so dense. Especially since Simon is looking at her steadily while Jude and Mozart look anywhere but.

Because I’m obviously not the only one who knows what he’s so clearly trying to tell her. And she, just as clearly, isn’t getting it. I just can’t figure out if that’s because she’s clueless or willfully ignorant.

Mozart clears her throat, but Ember ignores her, clearly waiting for an answer that Simon is not going to verbally give her. So Mozart clears her throat again. And again. And—

“Are you trying to hack up a fur ball over there or what? You’re a dragon, not a damn werewolf!” she demands, finally wrenching her gaze away from the siren.

“I was trying to take my turn,” she answers, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

She throws up her hands. “Well, then, what are you waiting for? Go!”

Mozart thinks for a second—whether about her statements or about biting her hand off, I can’t tell—but then she says, “I’m a dragon. I’ve been on the island three years. And…I’m a vegetarian.”

For several seconds, dead silence meets her proclamations. And then we all burst out laughing at the exact same time.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” she asks, sounding bewildered.

“You—” Simon starts but then ends up laughing so hard that he can’t finish the statement.

“I what?” The bewilderment has turned to insult.

“We just can’t decide,” I tell her, swallowing down the laughter still bubbling inside of me, “if you are terrible at this game or an absolute genius.”

Mozart preens at that. “A genius, obviously.”

“I’m going to go with vegetarian as the lie,” Ember says dryly. “Considering you had three turkey sandwiches for lunch.”

“So I’m an open book.” Mozart shrugs. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing at all,” I agree, but I’m still grinning, and so is everyone else.

The game moves on to Remy and me, but nothing earth-shattering comes from either of us—probably because we have the same problem. We’ve never had the chance to do much of anything because we’ve spent our entire lives locked up.

But then it’s Jude’s turn. And I can’t help holding my breath as I wonder what he’s finally going to share.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

FOUR JEAN-JERKS

AND A LIE

For some reason, Jude looks completely nonplussed that it’s his turn, even though it’s no different from when it was anybody else’s. But before he can say anything, a knock sounds at the door.

“Who do you think that is?” Simon asks. “Everyone we like is in this room already.”

Ember snorts. “And some we don’t.”

I try not to take it personally that she’s looking straight at me when she says that, but I’m pretty sure she means it personally, so…

“Be nice!” Simon admonishes with a shake of his head.

“Probably a teacher, checking to make sure we’re where we’re supposed to be,” Mozart says as she gets up to answer the knock. “Looks like this party’s over.”

Izzy looks at Jude. “Saved by the knock?” she asks, brows raised.

He gives a little you-said-it-not-me shrug, then jumps to his feet when Mozart steps back to reveal all four Jean-Jerks at the door.

“Can I help you?” Mozart asks, brows raised so high they almost touch her hairline.

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