Chapter Twenty-Five
Cricket sat alone at the dining table, sipping on tea between bites of her biscuit. She’d been at Bram’s for three days, and since the supposed lead with Leslie, there had been nothing more from the Dahlia Murderer.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway, and she glanced up as Breeta entered the room, her skirts swishing. She sat across from Cricket, her spine tall and rigid.
“I owe you a sincere apology for how distant I’ve been the past couple of days.” She let out a breath as if it had been hard to speak those words. “Or, I suppose, all the years I’ve known you. I’m just a bitter woman whose broken heart never healed and who wants the best for my daughter. I always have.”
Cricket knew little about Anika’s father except that Breeta had been his mistress before learning he was a married man. Once he found out Breeta was with child, he started to come around less and less until he no longer did.
“You raised a daughter with the kindest heart, and that’s what matters. Besides, experiences sometimes turn us into something different than we were before. I’m not the same either.”
“I will never be sweet like my daughter, but I’m trying to be less bitter.” Breeta looked toward one of the servants. “Well? Did someone forget my tea?”
“Sorry, Miss,” the servant said and hurried out of the room.
Breeta’s brow lifted as she peered at Cricket and said, “What?”
“Kindness, remember?” Cricket smiled and finished her breakfast before finding Bram in his office, looking through various sketches. Anika was still asleep, but she would most likely wake in the next hour.
“You can come in,” he said, waving her inside. “They’re just sketches I did of the victims to see if I could put something together.”
Taking a deep swallow, she hardened her heart as she lowered herself into a chair and reached for the stack of sketches. The first victim was one of the bodies she hadn’t seen in person. The woman’s chest was broken apart, just as all the others. “Your drawings have vastly improved.”
“That’s all Anika’s doing. She teaches well. Before her pregnancy, she’d done some sketches for us of other crimes, but it stopped her from being creative. And when she found out she was with child, she didn’t want to do the task any longer.”
“I won’t fault her for that decision.” Cricket’s attention fell to the next sketch. She held her breath as she studied Juniper’s body. If the sketch had been in color, to where she could see red curls, she wouldn’t have been able to hold back her tears.
When the killer made their next move, would it be a man with red hair this time? Or would they go back to a blond victim? A different color entirely? Perhaps leave Cricket another note? Maybe the murderer had decided it was her turn to be next and was just waiting in the shadows for her.
Bram lifted his pocket watch and looked at the time. “I need to go. I’m going to be late. You’re welcome to continue analyzing the sketches if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Bram.”
Once he left, Cricket took the sketches to her room, spreading them across her bed to study. She lined them up one by one and inhaled sharply on the last drawing. It was of her, except this one she could tell wasn’t done by Bram but Anika. Everything appeared more real, the lines smooth, her features prominent. Looking at herself this way was strange, seeing how she appeared in death. The dahlias must’ve already been removed because they weren’t in this picture, and she was glad for it, even though her chest and stomach were slashed, the fabric of her torn and bloody dress still there.
She noticed nothing else similar besides the dahlias that weren’t in the sketches. The flower wasn’t a simple one to find, but somehow the murderer had easy access to them. All the flower shops had come up empty—not a single midnight black dahlia had been in any of them, not since Clancy had bought them to use for the death of his choosing.
Cricket thought of herself, the black dahlias from her curiosity, and she shivered. I’m not the one doing these heinous acts . She stared at the drawings until she thought she would go mad and decided to bathe.
Filling the bath, she peeled the dress from her body and sat in the warm water. She thought about how Zephyr had helped roses peek out of her instead of the dahlias. Each day she’d continued practicing, and each day she’d gotten better. She held her hand up, focusing, her skin becoming translucent.
“Come on. Grow for me,” she whispered.
In answer, tiny dots covered her arm, not obsidian but crimson. She watched with bated breath as the flowers bloomed. Red. All red and no black. She then reeled them in, letting them sleep beneath her flesh for now. Her lips lifted into a smile before falling. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, to master her curiosity, but did it matter now?
It did. Even if she wasn’t at the carnival, or performing, this was for her, what she needed to protect herself.
As the water grew cold, her teeth chattering, Cricket wrapped a towel around herself and slipped on a dark purple dress from the wardrobe of things that Anika had bought for her. She glanced at the sketches one more time, knowing there had to be something .
But there wasn’t…
Cricket left her room and descended the stairs to see if Anika was up yet so she could show her friend that she was able to hone her curiosity. Voices echoed from the kitchen, and she stilled. Anika and a … man… A man she knew well. Zephyr. What was he doing here?
“I watched you perform when I would go with Cricket to the carnival. We went every year together. Your performance was always her favorite. She would talk about how wonderful performing on stage alongside you would be.”
“Did she? She never told me I was her favorite .” Even though there was sadness in his voice, she could hear the smile in there too.
“And handsome,” Anika added with a soft laugh. “Although she didn’t say it aloud, I could always tell.”
Cricket’s cheeks heated, and she almost fled back up the steps, but she wouldn’t be a coward. Not after he was already here.
Cricket slipped into the room, meeting Zephyr’s eyes, and she instantly regretted not telling him herself that she was safe. She was far from perfect, and hurting him was another mistake to add to her list of them.
He stood from his seat, dressed in a white collared button-up shirt tucked into dark trousers, making him seem too proper but beautiful nonetheless. “I searched the city like mad for you. Then Bram told me you were somewhere safe, and I’m not a fool. I knew you were here, but I kept hoping you would come to me. When you didn’t, I decided to come to you.”
“Everything is my fault,” Cricket whispered.
“I’ll give you two some time alone,” Anika said, standing from the table. She pressed a gentle hand to Cricket’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need me.”
Once Anika left the room, Cricket made the first move and stepped toward him. It was the least she could do when she wanted to do so much more. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Two of the servants tried to escort me away when I came. I was lucky Anika was out in the gardens—she told me you were here.”
“Anika’s good at confessing things when she deems it necessary,” Cricket said.
“At first, before Bram told me you were safe, I thought—I thought something happened to you.” Zephyr’s voice cracked on the last word, and she grasped his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.
“It’s my fault what happened to Juniper. I was too ashamed and didn’t want to see the blame in your eyes.” But as he stared at her, there wasn’t blame, only melancholy.
“Don’t think for one more moment that it’s your fault. It’s that murderous bastard’s fault.” He ran a hand through his hair and unclenched his jaw as he blew out a breath. “Will you go for a walk with me?”
“Anything you want,” Cricket murmured. If he asked her to walk with him to the ends of the world and leap off right then, she would.
“I never thought I would hear those words fall from your pretty lips,” he said softly, tucking a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.
“I mean them.” Cricket didn’t release his hand as she led him out into the gardens, the serene quiet enveloping them.
“Autumn told me what Mistress Eliza said to you, and she had no right,” Zephyr said, shattering the silence. “If you’re not a part of the carnival, neither am I. I go wherever you go. You want to start a new carnival? I’d be your first performer.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “My only performer.”
“The only handsome one you’ll ever need.” A smirk played on his lips as his eyes found hers. “So, is it true what Anika said? I was your favorite.”
“Yes,” she huffed, “you were my favorite.”
“It didn’t always seem that way.”
“I have a terrible confession.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “In a sense, I blamed you for my death, blamed the carnival, for losing the life I’d had, which was something I had no right to do. You were the main reason I was at the carnival. I wanted so badly to see you perform, to pretend I was dancing on that very stage, getting to travel with the carnival from place to place. But as I’ve grown closer to you, I knew how foolish it was. And if I can fault you over something as ridiculous as that, then you certainly have the right to accuse me of causing Juniper’s death.”
Zephyr halted and drew her to him, slowly lifting her chin, their breath mingling. “I don’t blame you. You were kind to Juniper, brought her out of her shell when no one else could. I don’t blame Stormy either, even though I wanted to. I’m just desperate to find the murderer and tear them apart worse than they did my sister. I want their blood spread by my own hands for this city to see that the killer is dead.”
“I want the same.” Perhaps she would even tear them apart worse.
“Come with me somewhere quiet,” he said, a plea in his voice. “Just for a while. I’ll take you back here any time you wish. Just you and me—that’s all I need right now.”
Cricket wouldn’t deny him anything in that moment. She cupped his cheek. “All right, but let me tell Anika so she doesn’t come searching for me.” Before they left, she grabbed her satchel from her room and let Anika know that if she didn’t come back today, not to worry. She knew the perfect quiet place they could go.
Wrapping her arm around Zephyr’s waist, she led him to a cozy inn where her father used to work. Of course, her father wasn’t at the front desk any longer, though. Before she could take a few coins from her satchel, Zephyr placed three on the counter and took the key from the young woman.
Once they entered the small room, filled with scents of vanilla and lavender, she sat beside him on the edge of the bed. The rooms, or at least this one, were the same as they used to be. Succulents rested on shelves hanging on the wall, two paintings of the city were above the bed, and an ornate quilt covered the mattress along with several knitted pillows.
A small smile crossed her face. “I have something to show you.”
Zephyr leaned in close, his breath hot on her neck, before he whispered in her ear, “My answer is yes to anything you say.”
Cricket brushed a hand down his cheek, letting several red roses bloom across her palm without even needing to make her skin translucent. “Because of you, I have control of myself. Thank you, Zephyr.”
He took her hand in his, trailing his fingers over the roses as he smiled. The feel of his digits touching the velvety petals was the same as if he was touching her bare flesh. “You’re beautiful. Life and death combined.” Zephyr’s eyes grew hooded, and he captured her mouth with his. “We’re not leaving this room until morning.”
Cricket’s heart pounded, and she knew her eyes were as dilated as his. “I…”
He lifted her into his lap so her legs cradled his thighs. “This isn’t about fucking, although dear gods do I want to, but I only want you. Whether it’s you lying beside me or me making you come until you quake with pleasure.”
Her lips twitched, and she studied him with wide eyes. “If you fulfill your promises, good sir, I think we’ll never leave this inn.”
Zephyr’s hands trailed down her sides to cup her buttocks, his fingers deliciously digging in. “I want you. It’s undeniable.” His voice came out gravelly as his hard length pressed against her softness.
“Show me.” She brought a finger to his mouth and caught it on his lower lip. He gave it a gentle nip and rolled her hips into his. “Give me the performance I’ve been waiting for.”
“I accept the challenge,” Zephyr growled, capturing her mouth once more, their kiss eager and desperate.
Cricket helped him bring his shirt over his head, only briefly breaking contact between their lips for mere moments. Piece by piece, they shed their clothing until nothing remained between them but thin undergarments. He slowly peeled the undergarments away, taunting her until he began worshiping her body with his tongue and hands.
Zephyr lay her gently on the bed, kissing down the valley between her breasts. He flicked his tongue over her peaked nipple, then sucked it between his teeth before trailing heated kisses lower and lower. As her heart pounded, he spread her legs, his teeth grazing her inner thigh. He slowly ran his tongue up her center, making her gasp and yank on his hair for more.
He released a low chuckle. “I’ll make it so you’re ruined for anyone else, so that you’ll only ever want my head between your thighs, my tongue lapping up your sweet flavor. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” she breathed, willing to surrender to him if he would just keep touching her the way he did.
Zephyr slid two fingers inside her as he stroked and circled her. He did as she’d asked—he performed , using whatever tricks he had hidden in his exquisite movements. A whimper escaped her, and her body quaked from the way he feasted on her, from the way his tongue and lips made love to her core.
When his mouth found hers, she brushed her fingers along his collar.
“Remove it,” he rasped, rolling them so she was on top of him.
Her heart sang at the fact that he wanted absolutely nothing between them. Cricket unbuckled his collar and took off her locket, resting them both on the night table. Pulling him from the bed so they were both standing, she skimmed her fingers across his scar before replacing them with gentle kisses. Using her tongue and mouth, she traveled down his chest until she reached his length. She licked the salty pearl from his tip while skating her hands down his back to his firm buttocks. Needing no urging from her, he slid his manhood between her lips. Zephyr growled as he moved, deep and lusty, his fingers tangled in her hair. She worked him with her tongue, licking and sucking him from base to tip until she desired all of him.
Zephyr seemed to know precisely what she needed when he groaned. “It’s time to move on to the next act of our performance.” He sat on the bed and pulled her into his lap with her facing away from him. Using deft fingers, he stroked her center while kissing up the column of her neck. His other hand cradled her breast, kneading it as she arched into him.
“No more teasing,” she whispered. “Show me the finale.”
As if she weighed nothing, he lifted and turned her to face him. There was no pause when his length pressed fully inside her.
“Zephyr,” Cricket moaned in delight.
He gripped her hips, urging her to move. She ground her core against him, and it didn’t take long before the pace picked up. Harder, faster. Her fingers tugged his hair, making him groan. Their movements grew frantic as they both savored the pleasure they were receiving from one another.
“Come for me,” he purred. “Let me hear that beautiful sound you make.”
Her eyelids fluttered, the inviting feeling inching closer. Then, as if her roses were brushing all her nerve endings, bliss shattered inside her, and she screamed his name.
Zephyr didn’t hesitate to flip her onto her back to thrust inside her when she wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. She dug her fingernails into his back, and he relished the moment as he let go, growling her name while spilling himself inside her.
“That was…” Cricket breathed. She gazed into his bright hazel eyes, unable to stop smiling. “That was…” She couldn’t get the words out, what she was feeling as they lay spent and relaxed.
“The most amazing performance we’ve ever put on together,” he said between kisses that traveled along her neck, his teeth gently nipping her ear. “I don’t think the stage curtains need to be drawn shut quite yet, though. I think the performance deserves an encore.”
“Endless encores,” she drawled, bringing his mouth to hers.