Page 50 of Sweet Nightmares
“Nicely done.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “It shall be.”
Because this night couldn’t just go simply, it was then that another problem accosted Jane.
Harlowe Merriwether appeared on the bridge above them, not even noticing the man kneeling in front of Jane. When she did see, Harlowe gasped and said, “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
Jane bit her bottom lip, her hand hovering over Nightmare’s chest. “It’s fine.”
He glared over his shoulder but used his shadow magic to pull the boat into the wall. Once again, he lifted Jane like she weighed nothing and placed her on the walkway above them. Then he simply disappeared into the smoke and reappeared behind Jane, his hand possessively touching her waist.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her tonight. A flame stirred in her stomach. Jane both liked it and hated it. Hated that she wanted him so much when he was her tormentor.
Facing him, his hands sliding along her torso as she moved. A shiver skated through her bones. “Can you please go find François or Emrys or and tell them about Luck’s Bargain?”
He grumbled but nodded in the affirmative.
“Oh, and maybe have a drink of whiskey with him. You could use a night with friends.”
“I have no friends,” he said through his teeth.
Jane smiled. “Of course not.”
Nightmare tipped her chin up, and he placed a rough kiss on her lips before he whispered into her hair as he left. “Just so you know, you become invisible when you cum.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open as she turned to Harlowe to deal with whatever the other girl had in store for her. She immediately pulled Jane into a dark alcove, secrets oozing from every pore.
“You and the Silver Man?”
What was the question? Jane cocked her head. “What about him?”
“He’s the Mirror of Nightmares, right?” Harlowe asked in hushed tones, her eyes darting around as if she were afraid they were being overheard.
“Yes.”
“And he’s your lover.”
Jane coughed.Yes, technically, but not at all. Jane let out an indistinguishable sound. What did she say to that?
“You made a deal with him?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
Jane signed and touched one of the icicles dangling from the roof. “Why?”
Harlowe wrung her hands, her eyes darting again, her voice higher than usual. She clearly wanted to tell Jane something but was afraid. Jane didn’t trust Harlowe because she was a walking ball of fire, and she hated Jane and the role she played in the Fantômes. But perhaps Jane could give her a chance.
What harm could it do?
Nightmare already owned her in every way imaginable.
Jane’s gaze hardened on Harlowe, and she reached out and squeezed both of her shoulders to interfere with her fidgeting. “I sold my body and soul to him and became his anchor.”
A horrified sound dropped from her lips. “What?”
I see, so she didn’t make as bad of a deal with the Mirror of Beautiful Decay then. “What was your deal with Beautiful Decay?”
“Nightshade?” her voice tremored. “Not that bad. I don’t think.” Her gaze trailed down to her left arm, where a tattoo of a tear rested with a smattering of leaves.
