Page 29 of Unleashing Mayhem
“We will meet them,” Nightmare said.
“I’ll let them know.” Ivan was shamelessly studying Nightmare now, his expression blank. He looked so similar toSascha—who was always vibrant and occasionally mercurial—that it was always strange to see that same face so unanimated. “Is this a permanent sort of—?”
“Yes,” Nightmare answered, and then he put the phone face down on the table again.
Apparently he was done with talking. Although, he didn’t actually press any button to end the call, so hopefully Ivan would take care of that on their end.
Maybe Matty wasn’t the only one in a grumpy mood this morning.
Nightmare shifted Matty further back onto his lap, wrapping an arm around his middle. His shadows pulled Matty’s plate closer. “Eat your muffin, sweet.”
So apparently they were going to Portland. To get information they needed to find the person Matty most dreaded ever having to see again. So Nightmare could complete the contract they’d made.
Matty bit into his muffin with a scowl.
Yeah, this morning was the actual worst.
9
Nightmare
There was something going on with Nightmare’s little human.
There had been since the previous morning, when Matteo had crawled out from Nightmare’s arms and rolled from the bed with a strange pulse of disappointment-tinged anger emanating from his soul piece.
Now they were several hours into their second bus ride of the day—Matteo couldn’t drive a vehicle, so they were taking public transportation—and Matteo was a jumble of emotions so conflicted that Nightmare was having trouble parsing through them.
It was…frustrating.
Part of that may have been due to lack of experience, Nightmare had to admit. Terror, shock, awe, defeat—those were Nightmare’s expertise. Hope and resentment and lust and shame—all of them blanketed under a fear that had been growing heavier the further they strayed from Seacliff—those were more challenging.
It was a pity because, if not for his concern, Nightmare might have enjoyed modern human travel. Every now and then, one of their fellow travelers would fall into a fitful sleep and provide Nightmare with a little snack. He didn’t usually prefer to feed in his human form, but after so long in the Void with no variety at all, the novelty of the experience made it well worth it.
Matteo, of course, did not doze off. He was too wary by half, even with Nightmare on the outside seat of their bus aisle. In addition, Matteo seemed to find it his duty to lean over Nightmare and glare out of his hoodie at anyone who dared stare at Nightmare too long. It was perplexing and amusing, the strange sort of protectiveness that lit up Matteo’s soul piece when he did so.
Humans were…odd.
Case in point: Why didn’t Matteo want Nightmare to find Dominico?
Matteo’s current state was evidence enough that it was necessary. He was jumping and twitching over every shadow not belonging to Nightmare, his hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves.
Living under that kind of fear for so long twisted a soul into knots. It was unacceptable that Nightmare allow it to fester inside Matteo any longer.
What Matteo needed was to watch Dominico get torn from this mortal plane by way of a million bloody pieces. Matteo needed to see it with his own eyes and understand his past would never come back to haunt him again. He needed to understand that Nightmare would rip the hearts out of anyone who dared try.
What other use was Nightmare for, if not to rend his future mate’s enemies into scattered bits of flesh?
The bus stopped with a loud lurch and a plume of smoke.
“We’re here,” Matteo said with a sigh. He pushed gently at Nightmare until Nightmare was standing in the aisle, and then he walked them off the bus.
There was a man in a suit and a cap holding a sign that said “Mr. Kozlov.” Matteo stopped far back from the man’s line of sight, cocking his head. “I think that might be us?” He pulled out his phone, reading something on the screen and nodding. “Ivan set it up. Same with the hotel.”
He approached what Nightmare could only assume was a hired human driver, giving the man a small, uncertain smile. “Hi. We’re your passengers?”
The man smiled back at Matteo, and there was something lustful in his gaze as he took stock of Nightmare’s human. Nightmare made a note of the man’s psychic signature; he’d find his way into the driver’s dreams sooner rather than later.
Matteo was not this man’s pet to ogle.
