Beautiful nightmares, p.1
Beautiful Nightmares, page 1
PRAISE FOR K.J. SUTTON’S FORTUNA SWORN SERIES
“A fantastic urban fantasy series that I highly recommend. Massive thumbs up from me!” —Beckie Bookworm
“If you are looking for a new paranormal series, this is the one for you.” —The Book Curmudgeon
“A unique and compelling fantasy series that will grab you right from the start and hold your attention.” —Mindy Lou's Book Review
“K.J. Sutton has created a world that is equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying… for fantasy readers who are looking for a little fresh and a lot fantastic!” —Tome Tender Book Blog
“Prepare to delve into a dark and twisted world!” —Perspective of a Writer
“Sutton… managed to create a spin on not only the fae but other supernatural creatures that will fascinate you [and] leave you turning the pages as fast as you possibly can!” —My Guilty Obsession
“The romance tantalizes and teases… leaving the reader begging for more.” —This Girl Reads a Lot
“A captivating, fast-paced paranormal fantasy that is sure to sweep you away to a world unlike any other.” —Lovely Loveday
Copyright © 2022 by K.J. Sutton
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
ISBN 978-1-7334616-4-1 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-7334616-9-6 (e-book)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Front cover image by Gwenn Danae
Typography by Book Covers by Seventhstar
Published in the United States of America
ALSO BY K.J. SUTTON
The Fortuna Sworn Saga
Fortuna Sworn
Restless Slumber
Deadly Dreams
Beautiful Nightmares
Standalones
Straight On ’Til Morning
Novellas
Summer in the Elevator
CONTENT WARNING
Please be aware this novel contains scenes or themes of profanity, sexual harassment, branding, torture, hallucinations, death, sex, alcoholism, violence, gore, transphobia, murder, and demons.
If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.
―Tennessee Williams
PREFACE
A familiar voice drifted through the air. “Are you going to leave me down here forever, Fortuna Sworn?”
For a moment or two, I genuinely believed I was going to vomit. The world tilted, and I moved to grab hold of something and wait until this dream passed. Because it had to be a dream, another terrible nightmare pouncing on me within the night. Maybe I was still at the Seelie Court, and these past few days had been another mind game. God, suddenly I hoped that was actually true.
The faerie at my side watched me regain control, his expression unreadable. When he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically solemn. “Are you ready for this?”
Neither of us would like my response, so I said nothing. I turned around, touching the gun at my hip to make sure it was still there. But I didn’t move. Not yet—I had to wipe all expression from my face first. Had to hide the fear and pain, so the person waiting below didn’t see it. Then I looked down and willed myself to move.
Never had I stared so intently at a doorknob. It gleamed dully in the lamplight, dented and faded from so many years of use. Desperate for any kind of delay or distraction, I allowed myself to wonder about all the people that had touched this doorknob before. What sort of lives they’d led. Whether they’d ever found themselves in a moment like this.
The air trembled with an enraged scream. I almost recoiled, but somehow I stayed in place, gathering the last of my resolve. My hand returned to the gun at my hip, partly in reassurance, and partly in some desperate hope that it wouldn’t be there.
With one more deep, fortifying breath, I finally opened the door and went to kill someone I loved.
CHAPTER ONE
Light filtered through my eyelids, turning them pink.
I was reluctant to open them, because I could already feel the headache waiting for me on the other side of consciousness. Instead, I clung to the darkness as if it were an old friend. There were no dreams in the darkness, no painful memories, no landscapes shrouded in mystery and sorrow. There was only quiet.
But I was awake now. It was nearly impossible to sink back into slumber once awareness had gotten its claws into me. Inch by inch, it pulled me toward that light. I fought it—something told me there was more than a headache coming—and knew I’d already lost.
Slowly, I cracked my eyes open.
I peered at reality through my eyelashes. When light didn’t rush in, and the pain didn’t immediately set upon me, I opened them completely. A frown pulled at my lips as I looked around. Comprehension was slow, but it did come. Bed. Dresser. Blankets. Walls. Pale early sunlight filtered through gauzy white curtains. I didn’t recognize where I was. Did I get blackout drunk last night? Was this part of the dreamscape?
I’d barely finished the thought when memories started returning. I almost wished they would stay gone, but the past few days roared into my mind like a hurricane. Images raced past in dizzying disarray. Faces and places and moments. Then, a voice.
I’m going to make you a Nightmare again.
Laurie. Laurie had kidnapped me from Granby, using hideous creatures beneath his command, and spirited me away to the Seelie Court.
I remembered the chains at the exact moment I heard them clink. I tested them again, as if the metal might’ve weakened while I was unconscious. They held fast, but at least they weren’t dipped in holy water—the chains were only irritating, rather than painful.
Now that I was regaining my senses, and my mind wasn’t slow with shock and hallucinogens, I saw for the first time that there were bars over the floor-to-ceiling window. My heart beat hard and fast as I cast another glance over the room, taking in the details I’d been too shocked or bleary to notice before. An ivory duvet covered me, smooth against my skin. I wore a white nightgown with long sleeves and a plunging neckline, which was enticingly framed with shiny lace. To the right, a mammoth fireplace took up one wall, unlit, and an enormous painting hung above it. The other walls were covered in wallpaper, and it was strange, not in color, which was green as swampwater, but in the design. There were black lines that didn’t look like flowers or some random, symmetrical pattern.
Why was I focusing so hard on the goddamn wallpaper?
Trying to keep panic at bay, I continued my perusal of the space and noted there was only one exit, the pair of double doors Laurie had used yesterday. They were made of dark wood, the edges adorned with elegant carvings. At the same moment I noticed this, I realized I needed to find a bathroom, and fast. Or soon I would be laying in my own mess, unable to move or clean myself up.
“Hello?” I called, my voice hoarse. Apparently I needed water, too. “Laurie? Is anyone out there? I’m about five seconds away from peeing on your nice sheets!”
Silence.
Frustration sliced through me now, cutting the fear to ribbons. I shifted again, hoping to relieve some of the pressure on my bladder. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been here, exactly—I remembered waking up, discovering Laurie at my side, and him leaving shortly after saying those ominous words. I’m going to make you a Nightmare again.
A healer had entered seconds later. She’d been nothing like Zara, a faerie at the Unseelie Court with cool hands and a calm demeanor. This healer, though beautiful, was rough when she worked on me, her dark eyes flashing and her lips twisted into a scowl. Her administrations, along with whatever injection she’d used, had sent me into a dreamless sleep.
Feeling more clear-headed with every second that passed, I took stock of everything else in the room, wondering if there was anything I could use for a weapon. But there was only the bed and the small table that Laurie had used for his tea set. Even the chair he’d been sitting on was gone. If I managed to get free of the chains, I might be able to break off one of the table legs and sharpen the end. Against a faerie, though, it wouldn’t do much damage without holy water. It might slow him down, at least. Long enough for me to pick the lock and get out of this room.
Suddenly voices drifted through the door, and it sounded like they were drawing closer. I stiffened, lifting my head to hear better. “…cannot complete the spell until she is a Nightmare. As she is now, the wretch is useless,” someone murmured.
In the next moment, the door opened, giving me no chance to mull over the words. Spell?
Laurelis Dondarte strolled into the room. He looked resplendent, damn him, in a blue business suit and a red tie. Subtle white pinstripes lined the material and stylish, pointed leather shoes covered his feet. He wore the same crown as before, and it caught the light, casting spots of brilliance in every direction. My mouth was even drier now, and it felt impossible to believe this was the same faerie who’d embraced me in the snow only days earlier.
As Laurie strode toward the bed, an Irish Wolfhound followed close on his heels, and I frowned at the sight of it. Laurie had never mentioned a dog in all the time I’d known him. Its size made me th ink of Finn, and a pang of longing hit me. I thought of the last time I saw the werewolf—he’d been fighting those things in the hospital. Lyari had been fighting, too. Where were they? Had the cherubim killed them?
Lyari, I thought fiercely. If she was all right, nothing would stop her from answering my summons. I waited a beat, so hopeful that it was an ache in my chest. But Lyari didn’t materialize. The only other faerie that might answer my call was Collith, and he was probably rotting in a cell at the Unseelie Court.
Before I could ask about my friends, Laurie’s eyes alighted on my face and brightened when he realized I was looking back at him. His silver hair was slicked back in a style I’d never seen him use before. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” he said. His voice was still strange to my ears. “I was beginning to wonder if Iris had overdosed you. Humans are so fragile.”
Humans. The word made my heart quicken again. I was human. I wasn’t sure how I kept forgetting, especially since the only reason Laurie wasn’t cowering in the corner was because I no longer had my powers.
“I’m still waiting for you to tell me this whole thing is a joke,” I said through my teeth, yanking at the chains in a futile attempt to launch myself at him. I kept reaching for my abilities, deep within me, an instinct that ran deeper than any root or feeling. Every time I came up empty, the sensation was jarring. It felt wrong, like a missing limb. Hysteria began to hover at the edges of my mind.
The faerie prince was looking at me like a buyer at the black market. Evaluating me for flaws. Assessing my strength. Whatever he saw there compelled him to turn around and stride back to the doors. His enormous dog had settled in front of the fireplace, despite there being no fire. The animal watched its master without moving. Those round, dark eyes betrayed nothing.
“Fetch Fende, please,” Laurie murmured to someone beyond my line of sight.
His arms moved, and when he turned, he was holding the chair from our last conversation. It seemed as though the elaborate seat weighed nothing as he crossed the room again and set it down beside me. Whoever was by the doors closed both without allowing me a glimpse of anything outside the room. While Laurie got settled, my first instinct was to ask who Fende was. But I knew that was exactly what he wanted.
“Where are Finn and Lyari?” I asked instead, my nostrils flaring. “And when am I going to be unchained? Or am I expected to just lay in my own piss?”
Once again, Laurie didn’t acknowledge that I’d spoken. He turned his gaze away, and I followed it to the painting over the fireplace. For the first time, I really looked at the image those streaks of oil formed. Against a dark backdrop, a dozen faeries interacted in a tangle of bare skin and varying expressions, some of them sly, others aroused. The scene reminded me of a night at the Unseelie Court.
“It was done by a human,” Laurie told me loftily, as if I had asked. “A mortal artist who was obsessed with painting my kind. I don’t remember the fellow’s name, of course.”
I didn’t care about the painting, or who had done it. I refocused on Laurie and traced his familiar features with my eyes, wondering again how I could have been so wrong about someone. His voice drifted through my head like the trail of fingertips over skin. You are beautiful, Fortuna Sworn. Thinking of that day in the snow hurt now—it had meant more to me than I wanted to admit.
“You were my friend,” I said softly.
Laurie finally pulled his focus away from the painting. His lips curved into a patronizing smile. “And we are still friends. You have been treated well, have you not? My healer has tended to your wounds. You’ve been given this lovely guest suite. My chef will be preparing the finest meals. No other prisoner within these walls enjoys such privileges.”
“Privileges,” I echoed, my pulse quickening again, this time with rage. God, I hated faeries. I waited for the stir of magic in my veins, longing for release. When I only felt that stillness again, that yawning emptiness, I almost screamed. From where it still rested on the floor, Laurie’s dog shifted. It could probably sense the thickening tension. “I’m chained to a bed, Laurie. Where’s the fucking privilege in that?”
Distaste flashed in his eyes. “Crass one, aren’t you? And here I thought we could be pleasant about all this.”
Something about the words made me pause. There was a small voice at the back of my head, trying to communicate something, but I couldn’t quite hear it. My bladder was on the verge of bursting and I was too angry, too agitated. “You said you had plans,” I said slowly, watching Laurie closely. “Care to elaborate? I heard something about a spell.”
Laurie’s brows rose, and he smiled again, looking genuinely pleased. “Your hearing is better than I thought it would be. A good sign, perhaps. There may be more Fallen blood in you than Iris believed.”
I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth now, but there was nothing sexual about the intensity of my focus. I felt my brow furrow as the seconds ticked past. His smile, his tone, his mannerisms… everything about Laurie felt off. Granted, he could have been playing an act the entire time I’d known him. Laurie was fond of his games, a fact he had proven again and again, from the moment we first met and he pretended to be a timid, lowly thing. But that voice inside me was getting louder, practically shrieking now.
He was still waiting for me to respond. At the same moment I started to say something, a feeling took hold of my limbs, like a small venomous snake slithering under the skin. My mind twisted and flailed like someone falling through the air.
“You’re not Laurie,” I whispered, utterly certain it was the truth the moment I said it out loud. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner? You’re smarter than this, Fortuna. I knew the loss of my abilities was partially to blame. I was human, which meant I could no longer sense power in the air. This creature had probably been using magic to disguise himself from the moment I first woke up.
To my disappointment, his only reaction was a slight shrug. “If believing that makes your present circumstances more bearable, by all means.”
“Then prove it,” I challenged, refusing to give up the sliver of hope I’d found. “What did you say to me in Hallerbos, the night we opened Creiddylad’s tomb?”
There was another beat of silence. I waited for Laurie to say the words. The words that had been hovering at the back of my head, unacknowledged and unclaimed, like a secret box tucked away in an attic. When this is all over, remember that it was me. It was me who saved you, and not him.
The faerie appraised me again, his head tilted in that achingly familiar way. My heart felt like thunder and I knew he could hear it. I didn’t even dare to breathe. As discomfort began to prickle in my lungs, I realized how important it was to me that I was right.
Then he said, “I suppose there’s little point in keeping up the pretense. I had hoped to use it to our advantage, but no matter.”
With that, my captor dropped his glamour.
I recoiled as if I’d been physically assaulted. Time seemed to slow as I took in the details of the new face looking back at me, and the only sound in the room was my own ragged breaths.
This faerie bore significant similarities to the person he’d been impersonating—they had to be related, I thought faintly. The male in front of me had longer lashes, though, and his silvery hair had a thick wave to it, which was probably why he’d slicked it back. But the biggest difference was how the right side of his face was puckered with burn scars, making him look like a half-melted candle.
“I suppose Laurie gave you that?” I managed, thinking of the one on Collith’s face. My wily friend certainly liked to leave his mark on people. My friend. The thought sent a wave of relief crashing through me, and for a moment, I was drowning in it. He hadn’t lied to me. Betrayed me. The trust we’d built between us was still firmly intact. Well, as intact as trust could be with a person like Laurelis Dondarte.
