Valentine (Cupid #2)

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Valentine (Cupid #2) Page 4

by Jade Eby

“Think, Diana. You know the history of my so-called victims. Do you fit their descriptions?” He leaned in closer. Three inches sat between the tips of their noses.

  “No.” She sank into her side and moved away from him. “That doesn’t mean I’m safe.”

  “No, it doesn’t mean you’re safe. You’re the first woman that’s ever stirred up these weird emotions inside of me. I should’ve killed you, when you discovered my bow and arrow, but I didn’t.”

  “How did you know I found it?”

  “I have cameras in all of the rooms.”

  She gasped. “You watched me?”

  “I’ve been watching you for a while.”

  So close. They were so close to each other, but neither moved away.

  “You’re not safe,” he whispered.

  Inhaling Diana some more, Asher closed the tiny space between them and brushed his lips against hers. She shivered under his mouth, and he had no idea if it was from lust or disgust.

  But her breathing shifted to a steady rhythm as her chest slowly rose and fell. The flesh on her neck looked ready to bite. And she hadn’t turned away from his mouth or shut her eyes or cried out for help or anything that would make him reel back to his side of the limo and cease his mouth’s probing.

  “You’re not safe, Diana.” He licked his lips and battled with himself to not release his stiff cock that grew even harder in his pants. “Do you want me to move?”

  A tear spilled from her eye. “No. I should.”

  He nipped her bottom lip. “Yes, you should.”

  Her voice came out as some ragged plea. “Why can’t I?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just as addicted to you, as you are to me. We’re both going to be our demise. You know that right?”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m scaring myself.” He devoured her mouth. Their lips smoothed against each other and made wet slurping sounds.

  It was madness. Flames ignited, and there was no turning back. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. She’d been so hurt, so weak and scared as she talked in the limo, and all he could think of was wrapping his arms around her quaking frame and holding her the rest of the night.

  Once the kissing started, his thoughts changed.

  He imagined the tip of his hungry length outlining her moist center. He’d play with those secret lips first, open and close them slowly with his wicked fingers, see how much she would wriggle in her seat and beg for him to part those folds and fuck her hard until her mind exploded.

  “I’m going to do something,” he mumbled between wet kisses. “And I don’t want you to be scared.”

  The words that fled her mouth were caught between short exhales as if she’d been running and couldn’t calm her breathing. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to tear your dress apart.” He reached for her breasts and clutched them in his huge hands. “I’ve wanted these in my mouth since the moment you walked down those stairs.”

  She moved his hands away.

  His next words were growls. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” She still held his hand away from her breasts. “You can’t just rip my gown. We’re going to the ball, and I don’t even know if...”

  “What?”

  “If I can have sex with you.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Okay.”

  “Do you understand?”

  He didn’t respond; too busy attempting to water down the fire that roared in his bones.

  “Why are we going to the ball anyway?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about the ball right now. I want you.”

  “Asher, why are we going to this ball?”

  He moved in to nip at her neck.

  She ducked and shoved at him. “Stop it.”

  He backed up and returned to his side of the limo, but not before emitting an odd growling sound. What had occurred? They’d entered the vehicle with tension and fear mingling in the air. And now, sex merged with blinding desire, and the whole time Diana held his puppet strings.

  Does she even realize how much power she has over me? What’s going to happen to us?

  “Why are we going to this Ball?” she asked again.

  “Why do you think there has to be a reason?”

  “Because, you want me there.”

  “I didn’t want to leave you by yourself, so you could do more snooping.”

  “You’re lying. I've already discovered your secret. What else could I possibly find? So, tell me, why are we really going?”

  He stared at her with amused eyes. She was adorable for thinking she knew all there was to know about him. He decided not to push it and tell the truth instead. “Maxwell is going to be my next victim.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he likes to hurt foster boys and girls.”

  “How?”

  “There’s no need to discuss the details.”

  “Tell me."

  He shifted in his seat. “Why, so that you can feel better about this?”

  “No, so I can understand,” she corrected. “How did you even find out he hurt his foster kids? Where do you get your intel?”

  “It’s not intel. I start with gut feelings. Two months ago, there’d been reports around the island about how he’d fired his private nurse that served at the foster home. People wondered why. As did I.” He turned away from her. “Any gossip dealing with kids intrigues me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because kids need protection. They’re young and weak, and subservient to whoever resides within the four walls of their home.”

  “O-kay.”

  “Maxwell had handed the foster home’s nurse a huge amount of money and sent her far off. I got to her, before she was due to leave the island.”

  “What do you mean, got to her?”

  “I came to her late in the night, sat on her bed in the darkness with my hood on, woke her up, and simply asked what had happened.”

  “You scared the shit out of her.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. You can’t just—”

  “Twelve cases of syphilis.”

  Diana paused. “What?”

  “The nurse had discovered twelve cases of syphilis in the kids at the foster home, and they were all under ten years old. Add the fact that she'd just treated Maxwell for syphilis over six months ago, and it didn’t take her long to put two and two together.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Jesus didn’t save those kids.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  He put his back to her. “It's true. Jesus didn’t come down and save them.”

  “So you’re Jesus?”

  “No, but I think I was put here by God for another purpose. Everyone has a purpose in life. I think death is mine.”

  “So now you’re the grim reaper?”

  “No, I’m Cupid apparently.”

  Quiet passed and then Diana broke the silence. “Did you kill the nurse?”

  “No, why would I do that?”

  “She took the money and left, knowing that the kids were in trouble.”

  “No, she’d planned on putting in an anonymous complaint, and praying that it stopped him. What else could she do? Maxwell is a powerful man. In this country, that’s enough to get away with murder.” He grinned. “It’s why I reside in America.”

  Diana shivered as if a chill ran through her. “How long has it been since you talked to the nurse?”

  “Months ago. I’m sure Maxwell has done more. It’s been hard to come up with a good plan, when so many others should die—”

  “Maxwell should’ve died before Neil, at least. If this is true.”

  “Interesting.” He laughed. “I don’t prioritize my kills like I should. I just go for the easy ones first. Neil provided no problem. He was too busy playing mind games with you and fucking everyone around town.”

  She frowned and looked away.

  “But, now I’m coming for Maxwell.”


  “You don’t know if the nurse actually told the truth. She could’ve been a disgruntled employee. Maybe she gave them syphilis, and he fired her, but gave her money so the news wouldn’t spread and ruin his foundation.”

  He reached his hand out to her face, touched her chin, and guided her view to him. “Well, that’s your job. You’re the investigator. I keep Maxwell busy. You look around.”

  “The art museum?” she asked.

  “No, the foster home. It’s right next to the museum where the Ball is being held. Do what you do best. Dig.”

  She flinched at the last word and muttered, “Maybe, I’ll just run off and escape.”

  He laughed and gripped her chin tighter than he should have. “No, Diana. Trust me. You want to walk side by side with me while I hunt. Not be the one that I’m looking for in the shadows.”

  Four

  Diana

  Diana’s heels clicked against the pavement as Asher guided her toward Ovid Island’s Art Museum.

  “Are you cold?” Asher asked.

  “No.”

  He turned around without saying anything more. Though it had only been a twenty-minute car ride to the museum, it had felt like hours. Thick tension spread between them like molasses. Desire bubbled up from the pit of her stomach and mixed with disgust that she could still have those feelings for him.

  She was dressed in a beautiful gown, on the arm of a beautiful man and yet she felt the world’s ugliness bow at her feet. Never in all of her life had Diana experienced such conflicting emotions.

  Did she hate Asher? Or revere him? Was she frightened of him? Or frightened of what he could bring out in her?

  They entered the Monster’s Ball, and the décor fit her mood.

  Death and lust.

  Hundreds of black skulls hung from the ceiling by gold rope. All their eyes glowed to light the Monster’s ball. At least five candles stood in the center of all the many tables. Melted wax dripped onto the table and hardened around all of them, setting the gloom of the room even further.

  The room was so dark, she didn’t get a clear view of everyone’s faces, just shadowed light over naked skin. Giggles rode the music and merged with the clatter of forks hitting dishes.

  Long mirrors decorated the walls.

  They walked past one, and she realized that they weren’t mirrors at all. Ghostly nude images danced on their glass surface and waved back at them. Some opened their mouths and released silent shrieks as they pinched their nipples. Others floated in the center of the frame, stroking their long cocks, their eyes distant as if death had blinded them.

  Waiters carried monstrous things on plates. Diana peered at one and tensed. A tiny, burnt face greeted her eyes. It lay there on the plate, some sort of meat formed into a blackened head with garlic as the fangs, olives for the eyes, and a red sauce smearing it into a bloody effect.

  Asher tilted his head her way as they took their time moving further into the ballroom. “Are you hungry?”

  Her stomach rumbled, but he probably couldn’t hear it.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Not that again.”

  “I am fine.”

  “And you’re Don Quixote too, apparently.”

  “Would you leave that alone?”

  He smirked. “I really wish I could, but now I’ll probably go dig up a copy and read the story again. I bet there’s one in my library.”

  “Where’s Maxwell?” She tried to let go of his hand.

  He wouldn’t release it. “Don’t worry. He’ll come to us.”

  She gave up with pulling her hand away. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I sent him a message that I want to donate a million dollars to his foundation. That should get me some extra ass kissing time during the ball.”

  She nodded. “He’s probably been searching for you all night.”

  “Definitely.” He led her onto the dance floor. “Let’s cut through here.”

  She focused on the music as she followed behind him.

  A band performed on the stage far in the back. Haunting make-up covered the musicians’ faces. An ax sat in the lead singer’s head as he strummed his guitar and sang in a slow rhythm, “When the moon bleeds, I’ll come to you. I’ll save you. I’ll conquer you.”

  The singer’s voice twisted Diana’s heart, so low and sad, yet full of malice and lust too.

  “When the moon bleeds, I’ll find you. I’ll capture the very thing that makes you.”

  Asher squeezed her hand as he led her further into the sea of elegant people. Ovid’s finest crowded the hall, although less of a number than most events. Jewels glittered in the soft light. Red shined and glimmered on every woman. Some wore gloves. Almost everyone dripped in rubies. A few donned tiaras and chokers that Diana knew cost a fortune.

  Still, the singer’s words helped Diana’s walk with her murderous escort.

  “You’re my possession!” The singer raised his voice almost into a melodious scream. “I own you! I own you!”

  The drums came in as a guitar followed the singer’s chorus.

  “There’s not a second! That I don’t know you! I own you!”

  The singer gasped and turned his attention to his guitar and played the notes that words couldn’t truly capture. The music grew into a chain and bound around her heart. It somehow entered Diana, not through her ears, but right at the center of her chest, just like she was sure Asher’s arrows did to his victims. The band played on. It was haunting.

  The notes pierced her, made her pause in the middle of the dance floor and unable to move. Asher stopped with her, turned around, and studied Diana’s face in the skull’s glowing light.

  “When the moon bleeds,” the singer began to lower each word to a whispering hum. “When the moon bleeds.”

  Instead of asking her if she was okay, Asher pulled Diana into his arms and guided her body into a sway that moved with the song’s rhythm.

  “When the moon bleeds.”

  More dancing people surrounded them. One couple bumped into Asher’s elbow. He grimaced at them. They simply giggled in drunken hysteria and twirled away.

  “When the moon bleeds.”

  Asher brushed his lips against Diana’s ear. “You’re like this song. You make me want to stop and dance. Stop everything and look at life.”

  She shivered in his arms, yet her body molded against his as they danced. Her nipples hardened in the gown, or maybe they had never softened since the limo ride and Asher’s lips. His cologne caged her further, drew her in like one would tease a mouse with cheese.

  “You’re probably the only thing that could stop me.” He sucked on her ear lobe, nibbled a little at the tip. She could’ve sworn he inhaled her, but it had to be all in her head. Still, she clutched his shoulders, not sure if she could hold onto him anymore.

  Is this all really happening or am I in another dream? Why do I want him so much, even when we’re surrounded by horror?

  And then the song rushed back into hysteria. The drums shifted from a gentle tap to a thunderous boom. The guitar fell into an assault of harmony and lust.

  “You’re my possession!” the singer screamed. “I own you! I own you!”

  “Yes.” Asher buried his face into the curve of her neck and sucked on her flesh as if he was a vampire, preparing a woman for the sharp edge of his fangs. She let her head fall back, allowed this man, this killer to feast on her skin, just for the simple fact that it felt so damn good. Her pussy ached for his lips to explore it the same way they he feasted on her neck.

  She remembered how skilled he was between her thighs. He’d tasted her like there was nothing else on the planet that could feed him.

  “There’s not a second! That I don’t own you! I own you! I own you!”

  She closed her eyes, shook against him, and had no idea if it was fear, the music, or Asher causing it all.

  “I!” the singer roared into the microphone like a deranged lover. “I!”

  That dream world swam int
o her head—skeletons riding on horses, angels wrestling, a rainbow plastered in darkness, and violins melting on a shadowed landscape.

  “I! I! I!”

  She gasped, pushed away from Asher, and rushed off, stumbling around happy couples and bumping into waiters. She could hardly breathe. Something corroded her lungs. It sat like bricks in her chest, unable to move. She scanned the space and hoped for an exit or a bathroom, somewhere to escape, if only for a few minutes.

  I can’t let him touch me anymore. I have to stop that.

  The drums and guitar went berserk.

  I just can’t.

  The stilettos slowed her down. She limped forward and ignored the ache in her soles. Adrenaline surged through her. Her heart boomed, until she couldn’t hear the music anymore, just the sounds of her own heart beating.

  She didn’t even glance behind her to see if Asher followed. She knew he would.

  “I own you!”

  Near the edge of the dance floor, a door opened on her right. Two laughing women in red strolled out. She pushed past them.

  “Isn’t that Diana Carson,” one of them said.

  “Haven’t seen much from her,” the other replied.

  “Wasn’t her husband one of the ones… you know?”

  “Yes.”

  She ignored them and entered, didn’t even turn back to see which one of the high society wenches had spoken her name. The door closed behind her. She locked herself into the private bathroom.

  The two women must’ve been taking turns in the mirror as they freshened up their makeup. Violet and pink powder dotted the edges.

  Diana searched the small bathroom for another exit or a window or two. Nothing. Just white solid walls.

  Too bad they aren’t melting like in my dream.

  She slumped against the door.

  Where would I have gone anyway? What am I doing now? I’m going to have to face this shit. Whatever I’ve gotten myself into. I’m going to have to deal with it. What had Asher said, while we danced?

  On cue, his voice slipped into her head. “Only you could stop me.”

  “Then, that’s what I’ll do.” Diana stumbled toward the toilet and vomited.

  Five

  Asher

 

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