Page 20 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

Chapter Fifteen

J ane’s life was one of service. Serving and servicing powerful men. Working for the Mirror Mafia was no different. She didn’t have to touch any of these men, but she did follow their every command.

Tonight was no different, except it was a Gilded Alliance meeting. This gathering of the most influential people discussed top-secret issues, including vampires, Blood Mirrors, and long-dead evils that were brewing. It was a meeting of rivals, enemies, and forced allies.

The list of attendees tonight included three powerful mirrors: Nightmare, Nightshade, and Midnight. Names that were far too close and far too confusing for their good. Why did the three most powerful mirrors all have the word night in their nicknames? That was just silly. But try telling them that.

Also in attendance were Francois, Emrys, Constance, Kordelia, and the leaders of the other four gangs in the city.

Jane, surprisingly, was the newest member of their group, and she was fairly certain she was only invited because she was Nightmare’s wife.

The meeting took place in one of the curtained alcoves of the Viridian Nightclub.

A sentient building that catered to one’s greatest desires.

A club of sin and nighttime pleasures. The place was decorated with peacock colors and decor, and everything about the building caused one’s heart to race and other regions to become hot and bothered.

“We have many things to discuss tonight. Shall we get started?” Emrys cut through the group’s side chatter. But as soon as he spoke, Nightshade, an extremely tall Mirror God formed from muscles, growled and glared like he might cut the prince’s head off.

Nightmare was intentionally placed in between them to keep the peace. “Darcy,” Nightmare reprimanded.

Nightshade—also known as the Mirror of Beautiful Decay—aka Darcy’s deadly glare flashed toward Nightmare, who simply shrugged it off.

Emrys ignored the outburst. “I would like to discuss the last two remaining Blood Mirrors. I am becoming more and more convinced that whoever killed the Ashelles and destroyed the first Blood Mirror is out there creating vampires and preying on the weak.”

Every muscle in Jane’s body went tense like a harp string, and she inhaled sharply. Nightmare, out of protective instinct, ran a possessive hand down her thigh and squeezed.

“You have no evidence of that,” said the leader of the Cobra Lilies—another Mirror Mafia, and rival to the Fant?mes. Thankfully, he was not a member of the gang that had tortured and kidnapped Jane. If he had been, his life would not be safe from Nightmare.

“If I had solid evidence, I wouldn’t be asking for the Gilded Alliance’s help. I would just handle the matter myself.” Emrys crossed his muscular arms across his chest.

“What does your pretty little ballerina know? Wasn’t she there when her parents were murdered?” Kordelia leaned forward and stroked the arm of her chair like a jungle cat.

Emrys’s mouth fell into a flat line. “Nothing, she was four when her parents were murdered.”

“Perhaps you could dig around in her mind and find out?”

Jane sat forward, reading to attack or do something, but she didn’t need to because, for the first time ever, Emrys and her were aligned on the topic.

“I will not.” Emrys’s tone was riddled with rotting shadows as he picked up a glass of whiskey and took a sip.

Kordelia clicked her tongue. “Then what would you have us do? If you can’t even do the one thing that might give you the answers you seek?”

“I would have you protect our city. Evil is brewing, and it’s going after the second two Blood Mirrors, and since we so brilliantly stripped their locations from everyone’s memories, I have no way of protecting them and their contents.”

“That is not my problem,” Kordelia said.

Emrys’s knuckles went white from how hard he was clutching his glass. “If the villain gets hold of the contents of those mirrors, it’s everyone’s problem.”

“Why not go to your precious Blood Council for help?”

“You and I both know that the Blood Council is a farce. A body that thinks they hold power in this city but don’t,” Emrys said harshly. “The people in this room are the ones who truly control the city, so I am asking you for help.”

Jane bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to intrude, resisting the urge to interrupt the flow of information—a flow of information that was directly related to herself.

The Mirror of Midnight sat forward, her bubblegum-pink hair bouncing with her movement. “It is a quandary. How does one find something that cannot be found?” Midnight—also called Periwinkle—spoke with the voice of an eerie child, and had the face of a seventeen-year-old while being over a thousand.

“If anyone knew the answer to that question, it would be you.” The leader of the Rose Vipers played with his pocket square, but his gaze cut directly to the Mirror God.

“Perhaps,” she said brightly, “Perhaps not. It is a puzzle.”

Nightmare leaned forward, his hand still protectively on Jane’s exposed thigh.

The slit in her dress was probably far too indecent for polite company, but they were in the den of sins.

If she were going to dress provocatively, why not do it here?

“While all of this talk of Blood Mirrors is illuminating, we have a much deeper problem. More and more tremors have been felt stemming from the Lake of Mirrors and the tomb of the Seven Wicked Witches. If an evil is stirring, it would be there.”

“The Lake of Mirrors has been dormant for over a thousand years,” Darcy said. “Not even Chaos has been seen for the last eight hundred years. This city sits in the heart of an earthquake country. If the tremors mean anything, it’s that.”

“Are you willing to take that chance? Are you willing to do nothing and let Helene rise again?”

Darcy visibly shivered at this.

Who the hell was Helene, that she could make the two most powerful and terrifying Mirror Gods wary?

“So, in summary, two dark evils threaten the city.” Francois’s tone was light but also deeply concerned. “Wonderful. Does anyone have any plans on how we handle these stirring evils?”

Nightmare’s gaze flashed to the prince. “Where are the two Primordial Relics I left in your care?”

Emrys’s face blanched, and his body grew stiff, as did Francois beside him.

Fuck . This wasn’t going to go well. No matter what happened next and what came out of the men’s mouths, there would be disaster. Jane felt it bubbling in her blood, like foresight.

As Emrys said, “We currently don’t know,” Jane stood up and put her body between them just in time to be slammed between the Vampire Prince and the ancient god. At the impact, Nightmare’s hands wrapped around her waist, steadying her.

Periwinkle giggled and said, “The little witch seer.” At the same time, Emrys held his hands up defensively and put his body in front of Francois, shielding him. “We gave the location of the relics to one man, and he’s unfortunately now unreachable and locked in Pelican Bay.”

Nightmare let out a low, wicked growl. The whites of his eyes bleeding red, fury painted on every curve of his body, his fangs and metal nails bared. Ready to kill every mortal in the room if Jane didn’t do something quickly.

“Everyone get out now,” Jane said, her hand on Nightmare’s chest and her voice wavering.

Her eyes never left Nightmare. “Thorne, my monster. Keep your eyes on me.” She dug her hand into his shirt while he tightened his hold around her waist. At the same time, she heard movement from all around them.

Everyone else, leaving them alone in the room.

When he still hadn’t calmed down, and his eyes hadn’t lost any of the red, Jane asked, “How can I help you settle down?” Jane flattened her palm once more over where his heart should beat—but it never did. “What do you need?”

“I need to feed.” Nightmare’s eyes flashed, and he darted around, presumably searching for an unsuspecting human he could eat.

“Are you going to kill your food?” she breathed.

“Yes.”

“Do you have to?”

Nightmare blinked, his black, well-manicured eyebrows creasing together.

“Are you able to control yourself?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said slowly, cocking his head, his eyes fixating on her neck.

“Then feed on me.” She cocked her head to the side, giving him permission to take her blood.

“You may hate it.”

“It’s fine. I am not afraid of you.”

An unreadable sound vibrated in his chest, and then, without warning, he pushed her fiercely up against the wall, pinning her in and biting down on her neck.

At first, it hurt, his fangs piercing her skin and claiming her. It was a sharp pain, but then the wound began to tingle and turn… the feeling becoming something hot and pleasurable.

Every nerve ending in her body lit up with an intense feeling that she’d never felt before. Her pussy grew wet and oh so needy. A moan escaped her lips, and she suddenly needed to be closer to him, to be touching him, one with him. Fucking him. She needed him inside her, bringing her ecstasy.

She ground into him, and just the friction of her body against him was enough to send a wave of pleasure through her body. Her toes curled, and she let out a soft cry as her body shook in his arms.

Confusion licked at her neck. What was that? What was that feeling?

But when the wave ended, she needed more, and she became possessed by an unstoppable lust. Her hands trailed down to his pants, and fast and clumsily, she unbuttoned them, freeing his massive cock to the world.

Instinctively, she curled one of her hands around it and began to stroke. Up and down. Feeling him. It was thick and smooth, like wonderful velvet.

He let out a rough sound. Somewhere between pain and pleasure, he pulled his teeth out of her neck, licking the puncture wounds before grasping her hand, stilling her movements, and pinning her hands to the wall on either side of her head.

A mix of doubt and hurt danced in her belly. “Did I do it wrong? Do you not like it?”