Page 64 of Sweet Nightmares
Instead, she heard haunting screams from inside the cave.
With all the strength she could muster, she made her way back inside to find Nightmare ripping apart the vampires, limb by limb.
“I told you, you didn’t want to piss off my husband.”
It wouldn’t kill them, but it would definitely slow them down. The process of rebuilding the body was a long and arduous one.
It only took Nightmare a minute to take them all out.
“Thank you.” Jane stared at the massacre. Not all of the vampires were torn apart. Some of them had just had their necks snapped.
Did he just come to rescue her because she was his precious anchor, or did he actually care?
Nightmare stood with his back to her, surveying his mess, blood trickling down his arms and coating his clothing. The strong muscles of his back coiled under his white, disheveled dress shirt. His head cocked slightly back as if he were listening for her—but he still didn’t look at her. Not directly.
“Night—” Jane swallowed the name and sucked in a deep breath, staring desperately at him. “Gavriil, please look at me. Speak to me.”
He didn’t. The muscles in his back tensed.
“Please.” Her voice was shaky and raw. “I miss you.”I care for you, and I shouldn’t.
Without warning, he was in front of her, cupping her face so tightly she thought he might snap her neck, too. “Give me a reason…”
A reason?Jane’s eyebrows crinkled.A reason to miss him? Love him? A reason for him to kill her?A trickle of fear pierced into her chest like the talons of a deadly predator—the fear taking on a physical form.
Then, perhaps the worst thing slipped from her mouth. “I am not Helene.”
His hands slid into her hair and curled. He tilted her head like he was going to feast on her carotid artery. Jane placed a steady hand on his chest. If he were going to kill her, she would make him feel her…love?
It couldn’t be love. Could it?
Either way, she would feel his empty, heartless chest. Except…
Jane gasped. Nightmare jerked and froze. With her free hand, she touched her own chest. Then his.
Beat. Beat.
Beat. Beat.
His. Hers.
Beat. Beat.
His. Hers.
“Oh,” Jane whispered.
Nightmare’s grip loosened, and she was able to dip her chin enough to meet his gaze. His liquid mirror eyes sparked with an emotion she could decipher. “Take your hand off my chest.” His tone was flat.
The words pierced her heart, but she did as he asked. Jane’s eyes stung, and wetness pooled behind them.
Nightmare’s brow furrowed, and he cocked his head like a snake, staring into her soul. Then he dropped one of his hands from her hair and grasped her wrist, placing her hand back on his heart. Once again, Jane felt the pounding, like a drum vibrating under her hand.
Nightmare growled and removed her hand again. After a moment, he placed it back over his heart again.
Jane’s nose scrunched. What was he doing that for? Her skin prickled, and she was so close to understanding but so, so far away at the same time.
“It only beats for you.” His voice was husky with liquid darkness. “Hollow without your touch.”
