Page 23 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

Jane’s heart skipped. “What?” She wasn’t sure what he said because she was still lost in his tongue on her clit. “Can you say that again?”

“A mirror bargain is taking advantage of the club.”

Jane blinked and remembered she was at work, where she was supposed to be the Pit Boss. She absolutely couldn’t have the casino being had while she was in charge. “Is there any way to stop it?”

He clutched her chin tightly. “Bargain.”

She placed a hand on his chest. No heartbeat. He never had one. “What could I possibly bargain with? You already own the most important parts of me.”

“You could give me your firstborn child.” A wicked sneer played on his cheeks.

She dug her fingers into his suit. “Wouldn’t you already have my firstborn child? You’re my husband and the only person I am remotely close to having sex with.”

His smile widened. “Precisely.”

“Fine.” Jane swallowed. “Nightmare, I will trade my firstborn child to your keeping if you break the spell on the club and add protection to all of the Fant?mes businesses from spells and mirror bargains.”

“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 Francois 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 Fant?mes.

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.

“But you did make a deal with him?”

“I don’t remember doing so.” The vein in her neck jumped. “I owe him a favor for every leaf I have on this tree, and he can ask for anything.”

“Oh.” Jane bit her lip. “That’s not ideal.”

“Is your deal similar? Can Nightmare make you do anything he wants?”

Jane swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

“Anything, even kill?”

Yes. But he’s never asked for that. Jane only dipped her chin.

“Is he the monster he seems to be?” Harlowe asked. “Does he make you kill people for him?”

A gust of cold wind snaked through the cave, causing both girls to shiver and goosebumps to crawl over their flesh. “Half my life is spent trying to keep Nightmare from murdering everyone. He has no moral code and no empathy. He’d rather kill and ask questions later.”

Harlowe inhaled sharply, and a dark shadow fell over her eyes. “How do you handle it?”

How did Jane handle it? It had been so long that she barely even thought about it anymore. Nightmare was a villain in most stories, and half the time, he was also the villain in hers, but he also treated her better than anyone else had in her life.

This was sad because he was still awful most of the time, although not often to her anymore. It was all too confusing to focus on, which was why Jane never did.

“Gain his trust. Making him want you alive and healthy and whole more than he wants to hurt you. He needs you as his anchor, and he needs your favor. You are valuable to him.”

“Anchor?”

If Harlowe didn’t know about anchors, then how did Beautiful Decay come to the Gilded Alliance meeting? Jane had just assumed he’d forced Harlowe to be his anchor.

An interesting question, but one Jane couldn’t focus on. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, anything.”

“You used to be Emrys’s lover, right?”

“Yes.”

“What does it feel like?”—Jane’s voice dropped an octave—“when you have sex? Does it hurt?”

Harlowe stared at Jane like she was solving an intense puzzle. “Does sex hurt for you?”

Jane glanced around the room. “Yes, and be quiet about it.”

“Does Nightmare abuse you? Does he not care if you’re ready?”

“Oh, Nightmare and I haven’t really—” Jane paused, not knowing how to put it. “We don’t.”

“You’ve never fucked Nightmare?”

“No,” Jane glared at the other woman and held a finger to her lips.

“I’m just shocked.” Harlowe’s white eyebrows drew together. “With the way he looks at you, I imagined you two fucked like rabbits every night.”

“We… I’ve never—”

“So you’re saying he’s not even touched you?”

Jane flushed. No. He very much had touched her.

“He’s,” Jane gulped, “He’s um…” Jane motioned to her nether regions.

“Oh, he’s gone down on you?”

“Yes. But when he touched my…” Jane paused again. Gods, this conversation was painful. “It hurts. It tenses up, and I get a sharp pain.”

Harlowe ran a hand through her frozen white hair. “I have heard of that happening from some of the courtesans. Apparently, some women suffer from pain when the pelvic floor is touched.”

“So it’s not normal?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to solve the problem?”

Harlowe shook her head. “No, but I know someone who might. Give me a day or two, and I will get you the answer.”

“Thank you.”

Harlowe’s face rose in a sad smile. “Thank you, too. I guess it helps to know someone else is going through something similar to me.”

Somehow, Jane felt the same. She pulled the other woman into a hug, which was met by a tense, motionless Harlowe. Did she hate touch? Or just that she was starved of it?

When Harlowe moved to accept the hug, her white hair slipped and grazed against Jane’s face, and the pain was instantaneous and terrible. A burn so cold it was hot. Jane flinched and instinctively pulled away.

“Oh, fuck, I am so sorry.” Wetness gathered at the corner of her eyes.

Jane waved it off. “It’s okay, Nightmare can fix it.”