Page 32 of Sweet Nightmares
“It seems you two have been having quite a fun night,” François said with a rather amused smile on his face.
“And who did you kill?” the girl with golden-brown hair and two different colored eyes—one pink and one blue—asked in a bored tone. She ran her hand along the felt of the table, her long nails stroking the fabric almost like claws. “I think you still have their brains in your hair.”
Jane shuddered. Disgusting. She didn’t even want to think about that.
As the brunette’s eyes slid over Jane, they sparkled—literally sparkled. Her face was young and soft, but underneath was an iron temperament. So beautiful and so fierce. A woman Jane never wanted to anger.
“Her husband,” Nightmare finally answered the question in an equally flat tone.
“Ah, I see you finally wanted her all to yourself,” Prince Emrys said, raising a suggestive eyebrow before turning to François. “You owe me 20,000 Siennas.”
François sighed. “You had to go and kill him.” He shook his head.
Jane’s mouth nearly fell open. Not only did Nightmare know two of the most influential men in the entire country, but they also knew about her andhim. Which meant they went into Nightmare’s mirror prison, right? And frequently?
“So, what do we owe this pleasure?” Emrys asked. “I know it’s not covering up a mirror since New Swansea’s laws don’t apply to you.”
Nightmare growled. Deeply. “I have multiple demands.”
“Of course you do.” Emrys slid his hands into his pockets and leaned back in his chair.
“Firstly,”—Nightmare looked to Emrys—“I need you to write up a marriage certificate and change her name,”—his eyes shifted to François—“and I want you to take Jane into your gang and give her a job…”—after a moment of hesitation—“a good one. You will protect her like one of your own.”
What?Nerves flew up Jane’s throat like a flutter of butterflies.
François’s brow furrowed, but it was Emrys who said, “And what name precisely do you want me to change her name to?”
“She’ll take my name as my wife.” Nightmare’s jaw tensed; he was clearly annoyed at being questioned.
“Her husband’s body isn’t even cold yet, and you’re already stealing his wife.” A smirk climbed up Emrys’s lips. “And they say I’m a rogue.”
Nightmare ignored the comment. “She’ll become Jane Wryte.”
“No, Jane Ashelle Whitfield-Wryte,” Jane said far too meekly, like a mouse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I want to keep Ashelle and Whitfield.”
Jane didn’t know why she wanted to keep the name Whitfield, which had been given to her at the orphanage, but she did. It was the name she danced under, her public name, and perhaps even the name that represented resilience. Ashelle was her identity, but Whitfield was her strength, and Wryte would become her hope.
Hope that, for once, her life would be lived without facing violence.
Nightmare waved his hand. “As she says.”
“Just to be clear, you are marrying her tonight?” Emrys asked.
“Yes.”
“Should we have a ceremony?”
Nightmare’s eyes darkened. “The paperwork will do.”
“How romantic,” the brunette woman said under her breath. She leaned in closer to Emrys, and he ran a very suggestive hand up her thigh.
Jane gulped and glanced away.
Then the prince looked first at Jane, who was wringing her hands, and then at Nightmare, who looked like he was a shadow made of stone. And with a mischievous glint in his eye, Emrys said, “I will marry you two, but it would be such a shame not to have a ceremony.” Nightmare growled, but Emrys simply shrugged. “It’s my condition, Gavriil.”
“I would remind you of the Gilded Alliance and the extremely lenient deal I gave you for protection from prosecution by the police.”
Jane would later learn that the Gilded Alliance was an agreement to work together with the most significant mirrors in the city, the Fantômes, Kordelia, and the Prince. Apparently, the Fantômes made a deal with Nightmare to counterbalance the deal that the police had made with him. The police had made a deal that every crime against a non-mirror-blessed person would be instantly solved. Completely fucking over all the underground factions of the city.
