Page 56 of Her Cruel Dahlias
“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.