Page 57 of Sweet Nightmares
“Nightmare, I—”
“Somehow, I forgot that you were designed to destroy me.” His hand tightened around her throat. But the pressure was forward, not up. He wasn’t strangling her—at least not yet. “I shall not forget again.”
“Nightmare,” she breathed, a tear stroking down her face. “Plea—”
“Never call me that,” he snapped. “What you have done is unforgivable. You have infected my sacred halls, and stolen memories which were not yours to have.”
“Alexei, I am so sorr—”
“Sorry will never be enough, little witch. Get out of my sight,” he seethed. “I am done with you. Leave my rooms and find another. You are no longer my bride. Only my prisoner.”
“What?” The word was raw and full of pain. She felt like she had been stabbed in the heart with a venomous blade.
A strand of her hair fell in front of her face, and as it did, all of the colors leached from it, turning it into the color of liquid silver. One singular strand of silver in her red hair. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of belonging.
The mirror was claiming her, just as Nightmare denied her.
Part Four
To Heal Sometimes We Must Go Backwards
Chapter Eighteen
Age 29.
Nightmare didn’t talk to Jane for two years. No words, no notes, no messages—nothing. He didn’t come to dinner or sleep in her bed.
Yet he still kept tabs on her through his magic.
She felt his eyes on the back of her skin. Sometimes, the feeling was so strong she became itchy. But he didn’t have the house watch her out of the kindness of his missing heart. He did it to protect his precious anchor.
Nightmare didn’t care about her. He cared about his freedom. He cared about himself. Always, always self-centered.
And Jane didn’t know if she deserved this punishment.
She had completely violated him in ways she could never take back.
So maybe she did.
Chapter Nineteen
Age 29.
It felt like betrayal, as if her skin were coated in tar, burning and sticky.
“Red, you’re really hampering all my fun here,” Emrys said in his smooth and semi-obnoxious manner. “You look like I just pulled out one of your teeth.”
Jane was once again intentionally rifling through the morgue, disrupting evidence and placing her sister in a terrible position, yet again. If they stole any files or accidentally touched anything they shouldn’t, Quinnevere would be blamed for it. This was precisely what had happened after the last time Emrys and Harlowe came to the morgue together. Emrys had lit Quinnevere’s case file on fire. It was to protect Harlowe from a murder charge, which Jane ultimately agreed with, but it was still horrible for Quinnevere’s standing. Not to mention, Jane had to lie to her sister after it happened.
Jane sighed. She hated lying, but unfortunately, it had become second nature to her. The last thing she wanted to do was to put her sister in harm’s way. Quinnevere couldnotbeinvolved with the mafia, Blood Mirrors, or vampires. This life was just too dangerous.
She would have everything Jane originally wanted—the ballet, fame, and fortune.
Not obsessed gods, obsessed mafia bosses, and obsessed vampire kings.
Jane sighed again and glared at her new partner in crime. When Nightmare stopped talking to her, she had to turn to someone else for help in investigating her parents’ deaths. Prince Emrys Avalon seemed the best choice because he had the most interest in the case.
Her parents’ murders were tied to a Blood Mirror. It had been destroyed the same night the Ashelles were murdered. With considerable effort, Jane managed to extract the truth from Emrys. The Mirrors held the vampires’ great weakness. When vampires were created, the blood that fell during their deaths became twisted portraits of them. That painting then held their life force, and if destroyed, they died. During the Vampire Accords seven hundred years ago, all the remaining vampires agreed to have their paintings held in three Blood Mirrors, which would be hidden from the eyes of history.
