Page 18 of Sweet Nightmare

“Just go!” I tell Luis as the creature bares its teeth again. “Get out of here.”

“Hell no.” Luis looks beyond insulted at my words.

But now I’m too busy trying to squirm away to care. Desperate, terrified, with my heart slamming against my ribs, I do the only thing I can think of. I lift my left leg and kick backward as hard as I can.

I may not have my powers, but I’m manticore strong, and when my heel connects with its knee, it does so with a sickening crunch. The monster bellows in rage, swaying violently, and the snakes hiss miserably as they unwind themselves from around my arms, their fangs catching me in several places and raking through my skin.

“Move!” Luis yells.

I surge forward, racing for the steps like my life depends on it—because it probably does.

Behind us, the creature has recovered, too. It extends all four twisted, slithering hands toward us just as it reaches the end of its tether.

It lets out a sound that is half hiss, half roar, and all terrifying, but I don’t look back as Luis and I pound up the stairs. We get to the top, all but collapsing into the hallway as the doors close behind us.

Before either of us can so much as catch our breaths, Roman, a hall troll, pops up, demerit book in hand. “Clementine, you know you’re not supposed to run on the stairs. This is your second offense this week. I’m going to have to write the two of you up.”

“Are you serious?” Luis snarls indignantly.

The troll just tsk-tsks. He rips off our demerit slips and hands them to us.

“Have a nice rest of your day,” he tells us. “Oh, and get that bleeding under control, will you? You know it’s against the student safety code, and I’d really hate to have to write you up again today.”

As he turns and stomps his way back up the hallway, a loud burst of thunder shakes the whole building. Roman lets out a loud squeal as he jumps about three feet in the air and drops his clipboard.

“If all it takes is a little thunder to freak him out,” Luis snarks, “I’d hate to see what he’d do if that thing made it up the stairs.”

“Drop more than his clipboard, probably.”

Luis turns to look at me blankly. And then we both crack up, because it’s either that or cry. And there’s no way in hell I’m facing Jude with red, puffy eyes.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HOW TO SPELL

DISASTER

Once Luis and I pull ourselves together—which takes a few minutes—I text Uncle Christopher. This time, I tell him that if I die, he’ll have my mother to answer to, so fix the goddamn lock.

It’s amazing how a near-death experience helps you stand your ground.

“I’m going to go try and get cleaned up before class,” Luis tells me. “I’ve already texted Eva and let her know we’re done early.”

“You’re the best, Luis.” We both know I’m talking about more than the text.

But he just rolls his eyes before heading down the hall. “Can we at least try for an uneventful afternoon?”

“No promises!” I call back with the last ounce of snark I have inside me.

“No shit!” Luis must be tired, because he doesn’t even bother to flip me off.

When I get to the bathroom, I have to spend a few minutes calming Eva down when she catches sight of me before I can clean myself up. A few dabs of her concealer help my face look presentable—as long as no one looks too closely—and a bun does the same for my hair. As for the rest of me, a new uniform shirt isn’t going to cover half the damage, so instead I slip on a hoodie again despite the steaming-hot weather and hope my many injuries don’t bleed through their bandages.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Eva asks for like the thousandth time as the bathroom door slams shut behind us.

“I’m good,” I assure her. Which is a stretch, but that has more to do with the fact that I’m about to sit down with Jude than it does with the fact I just faced some freakish monster.

Eva looks doubtful, but she gives me a little hug and whispers, “Give him hell,” before heading to her anger management class.

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