Page 48 of Sweet Nightmare

“What am I supposed to do? Let them eat him?”

“One bite and they’ll spit him out,” he says with a shrug. “Plus, if they nibble on him a little, maybe he’ll figure out that it’s not a lot of fun and think twice about sending you into the menagerie again.” Part of me agrees with Luis, but still, responsibility—and my mother’s eyes—rest heavy on me, so I make my way to Uncle Carter. But by the time I get close to him, he’s got one wolf on the ground and has already set his sights on a second. Wolves may be tough, but my money is on a pissed-off manticore any day. Especially when the wolves can’t shift…

I head back toward Luis, but before I can get there, my grandparents float in.

“Someone’s got to help with this mess. These kids are looking feral.” Grandpa Claude drifts by me. “Look out for the angry vamp at four o’clock. She’s spoiling for a fight.”

A glance over my shoulder tells me he’s talking about Izzy and, well, he’s not wrong.

“I’m more worried about the dragons in the corner,” Grandma says as she hovers beside me. “When I went by there earlier, they looked like they were up to no good.”

“I don’t know why Camilla thought an assembly was a good idea right now.” My grandfather shakes his head.

“I’m going to go check on those leopards,” my grandmother answers. “They look like they’re going to be a problem.”

I jump out of the way as she passes to avoid the painful chill that accompanies any ghost’s touch—even hers. After what just happened in the forest, that’s the last thing I need.

And end up crashing straight into someone’s back.

“Sorry,” I start, automatically looking up. “I wasn’t…”

My voice trails off as I realize that I’m not going to have to find Jude after all. Because he’s just found me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THE NOT SO CALM

BEFORE THE STORM

For a moment, I don’t say anything. I can’t. I know I chased after him in the storm, know I had a million different things to say to him when he walked away from me, but right now I can’t remember any of them. And maybe that’s for the best—it’s not like I want to have this conversation in the middle of the common room anyway.

So I settle for saying, “Excuse me,” and then stepping to the side to pass.

Except Jude doesn’t take the out. Instead, he sidesteps with me, so that we stay face-to-face. Exactly where I don’t want to be right now.

“What are you doing?” I ask, and this time I try to shoulder him aside.

But Jude is immovable at the best of times. When he’s actively attempting to hold his ground, nothing short of a forklift could budge him.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Besides your standard kiss-and-ditch?”

He shoves a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not what I mean. You look—”

“Pissed?” I interrupt.

“Shaken,” he answers, scanning my face. “What happened after I left?”

“Nothing.” Again, I try to move past him. And again, I have absolutely no success. I swear, it feels like he’s grown even larger, though I don’t know how that’s possible.

“Kumquat.”

For the second time in as many minutes, my eyes meet his swirling, multicolored gaze. And though the last thing I want is to feel something right now, what I want doesn’t seem to matter. Because the moment our eyes connect, a shiver of something I refuse to give any more credence to works its way through me.

But I shove it back down.

He kissed me and blew me off…again. No way am I letting my guard down a third time.

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