Page 41 of Sweet Nightmares
“Fuck you.”
Another smash and a bunch of clumsy sounds floated out into the hallway, as if someone was hurrying to get dressed.
“Get out and don’t come back.” François’s voice was dark and dripping with fury.
The girl scoffed. “François Jules Visage. Mark my words, I will break you.” Then the girl—a brunette in her early twenties—marched out of the room, holding a sheet to cover her breasts, her head held high but tears lacing her eyes.
Jane had to stifle a gasp when she saw her face. It was Giselle Reyes-Vega, a close friend of Jane and her sister. She must not have been successful at covering up the gasp because Giselle looked in her direction but blinked a couple of times in confusion when she didn’t find a source for the noise.
Jane had done it. She was invisible.
Before returning to solid form, Jane cracked her neck and shook out her arms. As she reappeared, Giselle squealed but immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. She clearly didn’t want the gentlemen in the next room to know she was still out there.
“You’re Mirror-Blessed?” Giselle breathed.
No. But Jane said, “Yes.”
“Invisible, huh?”
Jane nodded. “Are you okay, G?”
Giselle’s throat bobbed. “Yes, of course.” The words were a show, and neither girl believed it, but they still pretended all the same.
The candles flickered in the cave hallway. They clearly didn’t believe her either. It was then that Jane’s gaze caught the red on the sheet. Giselle had been a virgin, and she’d given her first time to a man who didn’t deserve it. Jane knew what that felt like.
Giselle followed Jane’s gaze, and when she saw the blood, she let out a sob. Giselle was the emotional one. Her feelings were like waves crashing on a sandy beach. They were always there, always coming, but usually stable—even when large. But sometimes, the waves grew and crashed into more than just the sand. Sometimes, they destroyed everything in their path.
One of those waves was coming, and Jane knew she had to comfort her friend. So she gave her a big, warm hug.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jane said into Giselle’s hair. A sob shook the brunette’s body, but she still tried to make no sounds.
Giselle hiccupped and said, “I am going to destroy him.”
“I would prefer that you not.” Jane squeezed tighter. “He is my boss. Albeit a dick.”
“You work for him? Why?” Giselle asked.
“It’s too long a story for right now.”
Giselle nodded into her friend’s chest. “Yeah, now might not be the best time for stories.”
Jane laughed. “Probably not.”
Clapping sounded within François’s room, and both girls’ attention drew back to the doorway, and they stepped apart.
“Well, that might be some of the best entertainment I’ve had all week, and that’s saying a lot because I dropped by the morgue to torture the little redhead ballerina again.”
Jane gritted her teeth. She was going to kill him.
“If you wanted to torture a redheaded ballerina, we do have one on staff.”
“Yes, but Jane is so… serious.”
“Your little ballerina never smiles and always scowls at you.”
“Isn’t it great?”
“So when are you going to fuck her?”
