Page 43 of Her Cruel Dahlias
“I don’t care. I want them gone,” she said, tears raining down her cheeks. But she did care. She cared quite badly. “Mistress Eliza wasted her necromancy on me.”
Zephyr lifted her chin so her eyes met his blazing hazel ones. “She didn’t. You will prove her wrong. Show her you can do this. For yourself. You’ve always wanted to perform. You’re so close—I can feel it in you. My curiosity feels yours.” He leaned in, cupping her cheek as his forehead pressed to hers. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I first saw you at the carnival in the front row. And after you woke up to live your second life, I’ve wanted to even more.”
“Is that all?” Cricket asked, her voice husky, her heart pounding from his lovely words.
A wide, devious smile crossed his face, beautiful and dangerous all at once. “No, I’m not sure you want to hear all the things I want to do to you. All the things I want you to do to me. I want to peel this down.” His long fingers skimmed across the collar of her dress before trailing down her sides to her hips, then brushing the fabric of her skirt. “I want to hike this up and touch every damn inch of you so I can hear you moan, taste what it sounds like when you do it against my tongue.”
Her body heated, aching for his touch. “A kiss, for now, will suffice.” She was punishing herself when all she wanted was for him to shed his clothing and feel the touch of his skin against hers, but torture was the only choice until she could think properly.
Zephyr’s mouth captured Cricket’s, and his lips slanted across hers, tasting of whiskey and mint. His tongue flicked the seam of her lips, prying them open before dipping impishly inside. The kiss deepened, and he drew her closer, his demanding tongue performing with hers. A kiss that created sparks, that if he went any further she knew it would ignite an inferno, blazing and brilliant. He nipped her lower lip, and she tangled her hands in his hair.
Cricket pulled back, her chest heaving as she peered at his swollen lips. “Zephyr, you just gave me a reason to want to try even harder.”
Chapter Nineteen
The victims’ lips moved, pale blue in color, whispering words Cricket couldn’t hear. Their clothing was ripped down the middle, blood pooling from their broken insides to the floor. The drip, drip, drip echoed around her. She edged closer, desperate to hear what they were whispering. Until finally, the words grew louder, becoming a crescendo that beat inside her skull. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Her own chest split apart, her ribs cracking open until she watched in horror as her heart beat in sync with their terrifying words.
Cricket’s eyes flew open to morning light, and she grasped her chest, finding it closed, her dress not ripped. It was only a nightmare. The victims and their dead blue lips whispering how everything was her fault.
A warm arm draped around her waist, anchoring her in a way that brought her back to reality. Keeping her from falling into that dark pit of grief. She leaned in closer to Zephyr’s touch, letting his deep, steady breaths ground her. The prior night trickled into her mind, and she stilled. The kiss, the feeling of his soft lips against hers, the way his tongue flicked hers as his touch ignited something ravenous within her.
But then the whispers from the victims came once more, and she needed to clear her head. She gently lifted Zephyr’s arm to the side, careful not to disturb him, and snuck off from the bed. With quiet movements, she grabbed a cotton dress to change into, then slipped on her boots and strapped the new knife Zephyr had given her, after their kiss, to her thigh. Perhaps she could pretend the kiss didn’t happen. But did she want to? No… No, she didn’t. Not at all.
“You can dress right here,” Zephyr purred. His smile was lazy, and his eyes hooded as they pinned to her. “I don’t mind.”
“Be a gentleman, not a rogue,” she teased.
“I can be both,” he said in a gruff voice. “Especially when I pleasure.”
Oh my… Cricket couldn’t hold back the heat creeping up her neck and the pool of it swimming through her belly, sinking lower and lower. A knock came at the door, drawing her from any response she might have given. Zephyr pushed up from the bed, snatched the knife from his desk, then shoved it into his pocket before nonchalantly opening the door.
Cricket’s heart thumped with how fast he’d moved, and by the way he did it, she didn’t think this was the first time. She remembered how he’d mentioned he always carried leaves in his pocket as well. Her chest tightened at the thought that he’d done this every time a knock came since losing his parents when they’d been attacked inside a carriage. But she would never have been able to tell by his easy posture and how he cocked his head as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
“Hello, Zephyr, is Cricket with you?” a familiar voice asked. Anika. “Autumn came to my carriage when we arrived and brought me here. After last night, I needed to check on her. I couldn’t sleep a wink.”
“She’s here.” Zephyr pulled the door wider so Cricket and Anika could see one another.
Anika wore a bonnet over her hair, and her satin emerald dress showed off the curve of her pregnant stomach.
“What are you doing here?” Cricket hissed, brushing past Zephyr and stepping outside into the fresh air. The scent of meat being roasted for breakfast caressed her nose. “Where’s Bram? Did you come alone?”
“He’s in town at the coroner’s building. Nothing of importance with the death or the killer has been found yet. And no, my mother is waiting in the carriage. You know how she feels about carnivals, but I told her either way, I was coming to see if you were all right.”
Anika’s mother had always believed that carnivals and circuses were demons’ work—their lack of clothing, their sensuality. The necromancy of Mistress Eliza’s Carnival accompanied her view as well, and she never would’ve allowed Anika to go in the past, so when they were younger, they’d always sneak to it while telling her they would be at Cricket’s.
“Didn’t Bram tell you I didn’t want you to come here, though?” Cricket sighed.
“He may be my husband, but he doesn’t tell me where I will and will not go, and as for you, if the roles were reversed, can you tell me you would just wait at home, twiddling your thumbs?” Anika huffed.
Of course, she wouldn’t. “There’s no use arguing with that. Besides, you’re already here anyway.” Cricket shrugged.
“Good. I brought breakfast. I figured we could picnic somewhere.” She craned her neck, peering past her at Zephyr, who leaned against the door frame, his shirt still off. “Your friend can join us if he’d like.” A wide grin spread across her face.
“I’ll let you lovely ladies chat while I get cleaned up, unless you need me?” His gaze met Cricket’s, questioning.
“We’ll be fine. I’ll take them to one of the tents.” She peered down at her rumpled clothing from the night before. “But let me change first.”
“Later, we can go to our practicing spot,” Zephyr said as he stepped outside. Cricket’s heart swelled at the way he said our.