by Jade Eby
God.
He could’ve been another dream,
and Diana would have closed her eyes, let her head fall back, and do anything that this dream man desired.
But it wasn’t a dream,
because all over Asher’s fingers,
blood dripped.
Its haunting scent pushed out the beauty of the moment.
Asher said nothing, washing it all away from his hands, and whistled some slow song.
It took her several minutes to find her voice as he rid himself of the evidence from whatever he’d done.
She cleared her throat. “Who’s... blood is that?”
A smile spread across his face. “Maxwell’s. I did what you asked.”
“What?” She touched the center of her wet chest. “What I asked?”
“You told me to kill him.”
“I...”
“I did what you asked me to. I made sure he wouldn’t hurt anybody else.” Asher took her into his huge arms, and snatched whatever she was going to say.
His tongue explored her mouth, as his hands did what they’d been born to do. They made her wild, yanked Diana’s logic away and then shoved her back into that blurry existence of Asher’s world, one full of gray.
Staring into her eyes, he lifted her up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and entered her ever so gently, “I love you, and I will always kill for you.”
And then he ravished her until her body ached, her throat ran sore and dry, and there was no other working limb on her body.
Instead of getting dressed, they dove back into Asher’s bed. He requested the maid to cook them up a delicious brunch.
By the time the servant came with their tray, Asher’s snores filled the room, and Diana stared in the mirror across from their bed, wondering if her flesh was graying and mummifying for real or if that was just her future laid out in front of her like a bad omen.
Thirteen
Asher
The next days after Maxwell’s death were the best moments of Asher’s life.
In his bedroom, magic appeared in the most unusual places. Life shimmered in the sunlight as it bathed his and Diana’s naked bodies, moving together in only the silence of their moans and the noise of skin slapping together.
Love flowed in that space.
It bloomed around them,
in every second he gazed into her eyes and whispered, he loved her,
in the times he lifted her chin and tasted her lips.
Lust didn’t feel like that, an undying need to just wrap oneself into another and shut the whole world out.
Asher belonged to Diana,
like a plane crashing into the hard cliffs of a mountain,
there was no hope,
no sense of escape,
just the rules of gravity,
the weight of love,
dragging them down in a dark abyss.
Magic bled into that room.
Diana fascinated him. They talked for hours, snacking whenever a servant brought their favorite treats. They argued about politics, reminisced about their shared loved for old music groups, and quizzed each other on the lines of their favorite childhood TV shows.
A bridge of intimacy began to build between them,
something thick,
and uncrushable.
Something incredibly different than sweat and sex and pleasure.
There’s something to be said for the way a woman’s smile can pierce through the skin and touch bone. And to never have to wonder if their conversations would lull or fall below superior intelligence. Her brain made Asher hard.
Wonder leaped from Diana’s tongue as she told him about her childhood—mysteries and dead bodies in a back yard, dreams that foretold impossible things and a little girl who dealt with the guilt of having a hand in her father’s murder.
That’s something we have in common. We both killed our fathers. Though mine deserved it, and hers came from the injustice of a broken world. We’re both trying to fix this world too. We bleed the same desires.
He told her about his mother, the truth, things he’d never said out loud in his life. Her ears took in things that he’d sworn to himself that he would take to the grave.
In days, she’d earned his trust, fully, completely and without doubt. He wasn’t sure when it happened—just that it did.
It felt like the weight of the world had been tossed off of his shoulders and he was… free.
Diana did that when no one else could.
Outside his estates, the Ovid Island police had discovered Maxwell’s tortured body and the message that Cupid had been there. More helicopters rose from the island, more bad guys fled. No one walked the streets anymore. The shopping district was a ghost town from a horror movie. Restaurants closed early. Less servants traveled to the island.
Asher kept all of these things from Diana, made sure the servants never brought up the newspaper that Diana continued to inquire about.
Flame texted him any new updates when needed.
He kept the outside world out, so he could keep Diana in.
He focused all of his energy on Diana.
On the third day, he rented a yacht and had a staff take them to Key West.
More Miami Dade County cops filled the island. Things were heating up, lots of questions were being asked.
“Have you ever been to Key West?” He wrapped his arms around Diana as they stood on the yacht’s deck and watched the waves crash away into more waves.
The keys ran on their right, bridges rose from the ocean like monuments of history. Those structures had been there for years, connecting each key together and gluing themselves to Florida.
“I’ve been there once.” Diana rubbed his arm as he held her.
The salty breeze whipped through her hair and the thin cotton sundress she’d worn that day. The white against her brown skin brightened the glow around her even more, and Asher found himself touching her every second of the day, unable to move away from her rosy scent, that voice, the silk of her skin, and the magic of the garment, hugging her frame.
“Did you hear what I said?” Diana asked.
He blinked and chuckled. “You said you’ve been to Key West once.”
“I said a whole lot after that.”
“Like what?”
“What were you thinking about while I was talking?”
“You naked.”
She twisted around and faced him, her breasts pressing into his chest.
He groaned.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered.
“You don’t believe that I was thinking of you without your clothes on?” He winked at her. “You don’t know me that well, if you assume my thoughts are more profound when you’re around.”
“You’re worried.”
“I’m not.”
“Have you heard any news?” she asked.
“Nothing, besides what I’ve already told you. The police found Maxwell’s body. They don’t have any suspects for who Cupid could be.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“They haven’t contacted you?” she asked.
“No, why would they?”
“You could be a suspect. You were at the party. There was an incident where you were around—”
“You’ve just described me, and twenty other men.”
“You were close to the other murders,” she argued.
“How?”
She parted her lips and didn’t say anything.
“I wasn’t any of the men’s friends. Any of the guys’ events I went to, over half of the island attended also. Half the time, I pretend to be a bumbling drunken idiot with a low IQ and a tragic rich boy with a dead mother.” He kissed her. “But let’s talk about something else. What did you do, when went to Key West?”
“I don’t want to talk about something else. This is important. You could be considered a—”
“This isn’t my first murder, Diana. You know this
. I’ve gotten away with many. This is the easiest one to escape. My mother and I were always the first suspects for my stepfathers’ murders. Those made me nervous and still I got through it. Maxwell’s death is nothing. There’s nothing linking me to him.”
She bit her bottom lip. Fear hinted at the corner of her eyes, and he immediately regretted reminding her about his bloody past.
Although knowing better, he continued, “Maxwell’s death is nothing. There’s not one thing that could link me to him.”
“You’re wrong.”
“How?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m your link. I could connect you to all of them.”
Tension built in his shoulders. “How? You would need more than just saying it. You would need proof.”
“I could get it with enough digging.”
He gazed off into the ocean. Miles of water extended out. It seemed like a limitless rippling floor, a place where scary things swam below, creatures that humans had never heard of.
He turned back to her. “Why are you talking like this?”
“You’re not taking this serious.”
“No, that’s not an answer.” He tucked a few black strands behind her ear. “Why are you threatening me?”
“I’m not.”
He let his fingers linger along her neck for a few seconds, before pulling away. “Threatening me is very dangerous.”
“I need you to take me seriously.”
“I do.”
“No, you’re not.” She poked her finger at his chest. “You’re hiding things from me. For some reason, you keep me away from the local news and even newspapers.”
“I do not.”
“You’re lying.” She poked him hard.
He jumped. “Okay. I’m lying a little.”
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing really.”
Diana tilted her head to the side. Even in the short amount of time they’d spent together, she had learned his expressions. The slight inflections of his voice. The nuances of his body language.
“Asher…”
He smiled. “Okay, my curious cat. Here’s the deal. The police have come to the same conclusion you have: Cupid is killing supposedly bad men. They originally thought it was a low-life with a vengeance but now they think it might be someone better at hiding.”
“So things are serious?”
“No.”
“Then why did you hide it?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry and think things are bigger than they are.”
“Bullshit,” she hissed.
The yacht continued to slice through the ocean, traveling toward the most southern tip of Florida. The trip had been a way for them to further enjoy their lives and forget the horrors of Ovid Island.
“Let’s move on,” he said. “What did you do, when you came to Key West?”
“If there are more police on the island, than they are treating this like you’re a top serial killer. They may have even linked you to prior murders away from the island.”
“Hmmm,” Asher said. “Let me guess where you went when you came to Key West.”
“You may have to leave the island and go off the grid somewhere.”
“You’re a writer, so I know that your first stop had to be a tour of Ernest Hemmingway’s’ house. It’s a big thing down there, and for a writer, it’s probably like Christians going on a walk to Mecca.”
She shook her head. “You’re talking about Islam. Muslims do the pilgrimage to Mecca, and yes, I went to Ernest Hemmingway’s house. But none of that matters because right now I need to understand what’s next.”
“What’s next?” Asher shrugged. “What’s next is Key West.”
“And after Key West?”
“Paris or New York, Australia or my bedroom on Ovid Island. Any damn place you want to go, I’ll take you, and we’ll stay as long as you like, and I’ll make love to you as many times as you need, and you’ll never have to worry about a thing, besides where to sit, while I take care of it all.”
She opened her mouth in shock. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you need from me?” He ran his fingers through his hair with both hands, trying his best to rid himself of the rising irritation flowing around him.
“What’s next?”
“What do you mean?”
“You murdered Maxwell. Police want answers. Hell, everyone on the island wants answers. Now what?”
He licked his lips. “I make love to you, and learn everything I can about what makes you, you.”
“If you get away with these murders, will you kill again?”
“If?” he asked through clenched teeth.
She cleared her throat. “Will you kill again?”
He backed away and dug his closed fists into his pockets. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“We need to.”
“I know.”
“Then, when are we going to talk about you killing, and what... I mean... I don’t know. If you kill again… Jesus. Listen to me. I don’t know how to do this, Asher. I’m not sure I can be with a murderer.
“Too bad then.”
“Huh?” she asked.
“Too bad that you don’t have a choice with whether you could be with me or not.”
“Now you’re threatening me?”
“I’m sorry.” He closed the distance between them and held her waist, scared she would tumble over the deck’s railing and fall into the wavy waters. “You want answers, and I’m afraid to give them to you.”
“Just tell me.”
“And what do you think you would do with those answers?” He frowned. “Don’t you think it’s better for a bird to be trapped in a huge cage where the trees and flowers hide the bars, instead of a tiny one where all the wiring is right there in front of her face?”
“Am I a bird again?”
“You never stopped being my bird.”
“I’m your equal.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re above me, Diana.”
She stumbled on her next words. “T-that’s... you’re trying to get me off track.”
“No, I’m telling you the truth.” He traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. “You’re my bird. You rule me in many ways, but when I lead, you follow, because I know this world, and I just want to keep us protected.”
“This is back to kidnapping.”
“So then that’s what you want to know. What’s next?” He shook his head. “Next is not an open door, Diana. Next is not you away from me. Next is not freedom, or anything but my love. You’ll be provided for, and given anything you ever desired, from money to your career. You’ll write and work where you damn well please. We’ll live where you want. We’ll do what you need, but next is not going to be you returning to your home. Next is not breaking this off. Next is not you ever being away from me. Next is not...”
Diana’s bottom lip quivered. “You’re holding me too tight.”
He let her go. “I’m sorry.”
“This is wrong.”
“What is?”
She walked away from him and the deck’s ledge. “All of this. You can’t just decide that we’re together forever. It’s not how things are done. I’m not a doll.”
“Then how are they done?” He blew out an exasperated breath.
“We date. We get to know each other. We take our time. What we don’t do is kill people around the island, and kidnap me in the process.”
“And just for discussion’s sake, what would we do if, I did?”
“Did what?”
“Kill people around you and then...”
“Kidnap me”
“Yes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then I run.”
“But you aren’t running.” He licked his lips. “You’ve been doing everything but running.”
“I tried… remember.”
He rolled his eyes. “You
didn’t get very far. So tell me, why haven’t you tried since then?”
She hesitated and licked her lips before answering. “I’ve been enjoying myself, and from time to time, forgetting that you’re a serial killer.”
“I’m not a serial killer.”
“You’re not a hero.”
“You’re right. I’m Cupid.”
“Stop.”
“You named me.” He smirked.
“I didn’t know I was naming you.” She walked away.
He rushed and stopped her by grabbing her arm. “Wait. Don’t run off mad.”
She kept her back to him. “Apparently, I can’t run off anywhere.”
“Okay, maybe I’m a bit extreme with my courtship.”
“You’re as gentle as a serial killer.”
He growled.
She replied in a bored expression, “You’re not a dog.”
“I’m not a serial killer either.”
“Let’s just agree to disagree on that.”
He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear, “How do you want me to court you?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to find a happy medium between being scared shitless and wanting you to bury your dick in me.”
He laughed at her honesty. “I think I have the second part covered. So please tell me… how do I stop scaring you?”
“By letting me go.”
He tightened his grip on her arm. “I can’t.”
“You have to.” She got out of his hold. “Otherwise this relationship, which is already... unstable, well, it will explode on us both, and real quick.”
She pushed him away. “You can’t just jail me. That’s not love. You want to be with me, then respect my privacy and freedom.”
“Okay,” he blurted out.
“Okay?”
He tasted that word on his tongue again. “Okay.”
“I can move back into my apartment without you hovering in the shadows of my balcony?”
“I can’t hover?”
She blinked. “Can I leave your mansion?”
