Chapter Seventeen
Even though Cricket could’ve easily washed Charles’s blood from her hands herself, she let Zephyr do it for her, comforted by his gentle touch. Her chest continued to heave as she splashed her face with cool water, attempting to rid the memory of Charles’s hand around her neck.
After they’d gone to Mistress Eliza’s tent, she’d sent Wilder to go into town to fetch Bram. Mistress Eliza closed the carnival, ordering the performers to return to their homes.
She and Zephyr met Mistress Eliza and a group of performers near the woods where Charles’s body still lay. The necromancer wanted to ensure no one would venture there until Bram arrived.
It took a little while for Bram and Miles to reach the carnival. Wilder and a carriage trailed behind them.
Bram held his hat in place as he slid down from his horse.
Mistress Eliza placed her hands on her hips and glowered. “You need to tell me why one of your men attacked one of my performers.”
“Which performer was attacked?” Bram asked.
“I was,” Cricket said, and everyone’s gazes fastened on her.
“What happened?” He briskly approached her, and she could see the concern flickering in his eyes as he studied her. “Your throat’s red.”
“Charles attacked me, and I killed him to defend myself,” she whispered. “He choked me, called me an abomination, and was going to murder me.”
“That’s not all,” Zephyr said. “Charles is the murderer. We found a blade and black dahlias in his satchel.”
Bram turned to Miles. “Question the performers and find out if anyone saw anything. I’m going to take a look at the body. You three come with me.” He pointed toward Cricket, Zephyr, and Mistress Eliza.
They stepped into the woods behind him, and he knelt beside Charles’s dead body. Cricket averted her gaze from Charles as Bram peered inside the satchel. “I knew he didn’t believe anyone should be brought back from the dead, but I didn’t know he held such a hatred to do something like this.”
“Why kill the other women, then? They weren’t brought back from the dead,” Cricket said.
Bram held up a hand. “You’re leaping ahead. We don’t know if he killed the others.”
“What other proof do you need?” Zephyr asked, incredulous. “There’s a satchel full of black dahlias right there.”
“Which are rare and hard to find,” Cricket added.
“It doesn’t matter at the moment,” Bram said. “I need to first compare his writing with the one in the note you gave me.”
“What note?” Zephyr’s brows pinched together while Mistress Eliza spat, “What are you talking about?”
Cricket winced. Perhaps she should’ve told the others of the letter, after all. She should’ve known it would come to this. “On the victim found near the caravans, a letter was written to me with a single sentence asking why I didn’t perform. I thought it best to keep it to myself.” Only Juniper knew, but she wouldn’t mention Zephyr’s sister unless she wanted to tell them herself.
“You can discuss the letter later,” Bram said before Zephyr or Mistress Eliza could answer. “We have more pressing matters to tend to. Whether Charles is or isn’t truly the Dahlia Murderer, he still tried to kill Cricket.”
“What else do you need from me?” Cricket asked.
“I need you to go over every detail from the beginning, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. When Miles finishes questioning the other performers, he’ll inspect the body.”
Cricket followed Bram out of the woods and fed him her recent stories with Charles, however short, detail by detail while Zephyr waited near Mistress Eliza. Cricket didn’t know what would happen with the carnival now. But none of this was the carnival’s fault.
Bram ran a hand across his jaw. “I promise to keep you informed on what I find. First, I will compare the letter with Charles’s notes at the office.”
“I understand if you need to haul me away in manacles and put me in a cell for the time being,” Cricket murmured, fidgeting with her skirts.
“I’m not going to do that. Nothing here shows that you did anything out of ill will. Zephyr and I witnessed his attitude toward you in the past.”
“But what if people believe that’s why I murdered him?”
Bram sighed. “You did it out of defense, Cricket. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Just be careful until I confirm things, all right?”
“All right,” she said. “But for now, make sure Anika doesn’t come to the carnival. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”
Bram nodded, then walked toward Miles, where they chatted in low voices.
Cricket slipped past several performers and approached Zephyr and Mistress Eliza, a heated conversation taking place between them by the sound of their raised voices. The necromancer ran her hands down her face. “I suppose we might as well say goodbye to opening the carnival again until it’s time to leave.” Her gaze narrowed at Cricket. “I won’t reprimand you for not telling me a letter was left for you. But you do know that could’ve put my performers at risk, and it did put you at risk.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Yet it was addressed to me, and I was afraid you would send me away.”
“Last chance, Cricket,” Mistress Eliza snapped. “I’m relieved you’re all right, and hopefully you did murder the bastard that’s been doing this, but if you hold on to any more secrets, you’re gone. Do you hear me, child?”
“Yes, Mistress Eliza.” Cricket lowered her head as the woman nodded and limped away.
“This is my fault,” Juniper said, tears beading her lashes as she ran toward Cricket. “I’ll tell her it was my idea, and I made you do it.”
“Your idea?” Zephyr said through gritted teeth. “You knew about the letter and didn’t even tell me? Your brother?”
“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Juniper bit back. “Besides, the less who knew, the less chance that word would spread to Mistress Eliza. Cricket would’ve been kicked out that day.”
“It was my fault for keeping it secret,” Cricket said. “The choice was left to me, and I gave it to Bram since he’s the one who could search for a handwriting match.” By the way the vein ticked in Zephyr’s jaw, he wasn’t pleased.
“I would say you’re safe now,” Juniper murmured. “But death still comes for us all in the end.”
“Sometimes twice.” Cricket sighed.
Stormy rushed over and grasped Juniper by the shoulders. “What happened?” she asked rapidly.
Zephyr started toward the caravans, his shoulders stiffened. Cricket left the two performers together and caught up with him. Silence stretched between them, even as they entered his caravan.
“You’re mad at me, I know,” she finally said, sinking onto the bed.
He frowned, tightening his fists as he sat beside her. “Furious, but not at you. More so at that dead bastard. But I get it. You haven’t really known me as long as you have Bram.”
“I trust you, but I didn’t want you to worry or get on Mistress Eliza’s bad side after she already knew you dug up the grave with me. Besides, you’re the one person I trusted with that, right? Over Bram and everyone else.”
He smirked. “You still owe me for that.”
“A favor is a favor,” she drawled. “If you’re itching to take your mind off everything and do something else, you don’t have to linger inside with me.”
“I think I’m itching to stay right here.” Zephyr’s warm leg pressed to hers, and he reached toward her, his hand cupping her cheek. “You have a smudge of dirt here.” Her breath hitched as he slowly wiped the spot on her chin with his thumb.
Cricket was relieved that, at this moment, she didn’t have to think about murdering someone. That it was just him and her in this small space, in this temporary escape. She liked the comforting feeling of his palm cradling her face, and surprising herself, she wanted more of him in that moment. Her gaze trained on his shapely lips while her digits brushed his leather collar. “I never see you take this off. Even when you sleep.”
“Only if I’m replacing it with a new one,” Zephyr said softly. “I never look at myself in the mirror when it’s off, and I’ve never shown myself to anyone without it.” He released her face, making her shiver without his warmth. She blinked in astonishment as he unbuckled the collar at the back of his neck.
Her hands grasped his arms. “You don’t have to feel like you need to show me.”
“I want to. My head really won’t fall off, but I do have a reminder here.” He peeled the collar from his throat, then ran his digit across a scar that went halfway around his neck, pink and raised.
Cricket couldn’t keep herself from bringing her fingers up to touch his scar. “Is this from…?” She didn’t have to say the words from when he was murdered—he seemed to know what she meant to say as he nodded.
“It is. After raising Juniper from the dead, Mistress Eliza’s magic was weakened when she brought me back. She almost couldn’t seal the wound shut, but she did. Every day I’m relieved Juniper doesn’t have her physical scar because we both already hold onto the emotional ones. The collar still doesn’t hide it completely—I know what rests behind it, the reminder of my parents’ deaths. That was another thing I would talk to you about when you were asleep and when I was watching over you while we were traveling. You’re the one woman I’ve told all my secrets to, even if you don’t remember them.” His lips tilted up at the corners.
Cricket blinked, at a loss for words. She wished she could remember the conversations he’d spoken to her, but not even a dream or a nightmare lingered from that time either.
“It may be a reminder of ugly things, but it’s not ugly at all. It shows your strength, your resilience, and that’s what makes it beautiful. I’m honored you showed me, Zephyr.” She lifted his hand and pressed it to her chest, right beside where her heart hammered, then glided it down to her abdomen. “This is where I was cut. The scar may not be there, but I still feel it. Every day.”
“There’s a part of us that will continue to always fight those demons.” His hand trailed to her hip. “Get some sleep. Escape for now, and I’ll still watch over you. I promise no one will try and hurt you inside here.”
Cricket believed him and scooted back until her head pressed against a pillow. She wanted nothing more than to be held right then. “Lay with me?”
Zephyr stared at her as if she might take her words back before finally saying, “Of course.” He slipped off his boots, settled behind her, and draped an arm around her waist. She leaned into his warmth, wondering what it would be like to get lost in his kiss, in all of him.
As Cricket went to bathe, she adjusted the collar of her dress to hide the bruises forming around her neck from Charles. She found Mistress Eliza crocheting a blanket on her porch steps beneath the cloudy sky. The necromancer looked up and beckoned Cricket toward her.
“I thought things over last night, and I want you to understand why I’m only giving you until we leave to hone in on your curiosity,” Mistress Eliza said.
“But—” she started and was cut off by the necromancer.
“I know you can dance. I know you have some of your ability down, but those dahlias will be too much of a nuisance. Word will have already spread to the other cities about a murderer here, whether dead or not, who left them as wicked presents, so for the sake of the carnival, that is too much of a risk. The red roses were part of the vision when I brought you back from the dead, and it must be that way. Life and death in your curiosity. Not death and death.”
Cricket understood, even if the Dahlia Murderer never existed, a black flower, although living, could still represent death to an audience by its shade. “I’ll focus harder.” But she truly didn’t know how much harder she could sink into her ability when she was trying her damndest. She was frightened of failing, of what would become of her if she couldn’t do this.
“Let what happened yesterday, in your past, drive you to become magnificent. Become the talent I know you can be.”
“Yes, Mistress Eliza.”
Cricket then went to wash up in the lake to clear her thoughts, but she decided to work on her curiosity first. Practicing and practicing until sweat drenched her body, until she desperately needed to clean herself off. But neither the dahlias nor the roses crept from her flesh.
The snap of twigs sounded, and Cricket whirled around to find Zephyr grinning as he neared her. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were hiding from me.”
Cricket’s cheeks flamed when she remembered waking curled up beside him, his arm no longer around her waist but hers around his and her head nestled into his chest. “No. Mistress Eliza said I have until the carnival leaves to hone my curiosity.”
“Ignore her threats. That’s all they are.” He shrugged. “For now, I think you deserve another break. Juniper wants to go to a pub.”
Cricket couldn’t practice the entirety of the day, or she would drive herself to the brink of madness. “Let me wash off quickly.”
“With me here or somewhere else.” He smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “You can stay, but turn around.” Even though a part of her was aching to tell him to come into the water with her.