Page 40 of Sweet Nightmares
“I am—” but she couldn’t finish the sentence and say the wordready. Because was she?
“You’ve only ever been raped, Jane.” He took his thumb out of her mouth and tipped her chin up. “You have nightmares almost every night of how those men touched and abused you. You are not ready.”
No. The nightly nightmares were about her parents, but she didn’t feel like correcting him.
Then he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers, kissing her like he’d done it a million times, before quickly pulling away and standing up off the bed.
Confusion licked at her core. He was only soft to her, and only her, and it rattled her.
“Go get ready for work. You have a gangster to turn in for stealing, and possibly to get murdered.” Nightmare winked and disappeared into the midst.
Jane had long since given up asking how he kneweverything.
Thirty minutes later, Jane was dressed and at the Russet casino, waiting outside her new boss’s bedroom. He was currently fucking someone—a girl this time, from the sounds of it. François didn’t have a gender preference. Not that he took many people to bed. He was a playboy, but not quite like the prince.
Emrys was a king among playboys. He had a new girl in his bed weekly, if not nightly, which was precisely why he’d never touch Jane’s sister. She wouldn’t allow it. She’d castrate him first. Which Emrys seemed to understand because Quinn was still a naive, innocent girl.
Probably not for long, but Jane would protect her for as long as possible.
Especially from the men she worked with. All of them were playboys—every single one—although none were married or committed to anyone. So, in comparison, François was a saint because he barely partook in carnal pleasures. Maybe three times a year.
Still, it wasn’t fun to wait and listen to the sexual activities, particularly because she was so starved for touch and pleasure.
Fucking Nightmare.
Jane considered fucking a random patron of the club, but she couldn’t. Nightmare would kill them, and while Jane had become fairly okay with murder, she didn’t want to be responsible for an innocent man’s death.
Not in any area of her life. Because all of her bosses were dangerous and deadly and killed without hesitation. Jane technically had three bosses: François, Emrys, and Nightmare. Everyone pretended Emrys wasn’t the boss of all Mirror Mafias, but he was. In small ways, Emrys was the boss of everyone inthe city, and it was the Mirror Mafias, specifically the Fantômes, who enforced his rule—because technically, the man couldn’t murder anyone himself as a result of the Blood Accords that bound vampires seven hundred years ago.
Jane adjusted the lapels of her pinstriped suit dress as she tried not to hear the moans coming from inside François’s room. She leaned against the wall, her hair tight, and pulled back. At the Russet, Jane was all business. She was in charge of all of the finances of their many businesses, and Jane took the job very seriously.
She needed to bring three reports to François’s attention as soon as possible: unusual losses at the tables, an employee embezzling money, and a large offer for the gang to bargain for a Black Market mirror object.
The Fantômes ran an infamous Black Market, and if someone couldn’t find what they wanted there, they often asked the gang to make a deal with a mirror for them to receive it. The Fantômes had many members whose sole job was to mirror bargain, but the most infamous of them all was Harlowe Merriwether—New Swansea’s Monster Girl. She had made over ninety mirror bargains in her life and had at least three visible mirror consequences.
Her irises were sculpted from diamonds, one pink and one periwinkle blue. Her hair was enchanted and dangerous, causing severe frostbite to anyone who touched it. Her skin shimmered in pure darkness, like a night-light.
Harlowe mostly hated Jane, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. Probably because Jane had so quickly gained the trust and favor of both Emrys and François —mostly due to Nightmare’s threats, but also because Jane was good at almost everything she found interesting.
Sounds of flesh slapping and moans finally stopped—thank God—but Jane still didn’t want to enter. Emrys Avalon seemedto have no qualms, though, because he nodded at Jane as he walked to the door.
“He’s fuckin—” Jane wasn’t able to finish the sentence before Emrys shrugged and opened the door anyway.
“Then it shall be a show.”
The girl shrieked, and Jane rested her head against the wall again, closing her eyes with a frustrated huff. But if she were forced to wait even longer because of Emrys’s schemes, then at least she could practice her magic.
So she did, focusing all of her energy and spirit into becoming one with the wind. Into seducing her magic to make herself invisible. All the while, Jane listened in.
“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Emrys asked in a far-too-satisfied tone. The dick. “I see you had a fun night and morning, François, but I have business to discuss.”
“Get out.” François’s tone was harsh, and at first, Jane thought he was talking to Emrys, but then the girl almost whimpered, and it was clear that François was throwing her out like trash. “There is some money on the table.”
“I am not a courtesan.”
“Perhaps you should be. You’re very talented with your—” A crashing noise and glass smashing shook the wall behind Jane’s head.
Emrys let out a deep chuckle. “Oh, this is very entertaining.”
