Page 37 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

THIRTY

SERENA

C ynthia was oh so gracious to tell us who was behind Aster’s kidnapping, but not where or how to find him.

It seems that even the great Patchwork Killers can’t track down the one person whose name gives me chills.

The Dishonored Bushi . When Aster gave his lesson about her, I remember chills running down my spine and thinking that she is the one I would be terrified to go up against. Knowing she has Aster makes my stomach churn.

I toss back and forth, pulling the covers up to my nose to comfort myself in Aster’s smell. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, my hope dwindling on finding him and bringing him home. I feel utterly worthless. If the roles were reversed, Aster would be tearing down every door to find me.

I throw back the covers to go find Zephira. I can’t give up. Cynthia told Zephira The Dishonored Bushi’s real name is Kara and what she looked like twenty years ago, but no last name. Even with that little information, Zephira is determined to find her big brother.

Sticking my head into the guest room I find it empty.

Where is Zephira? She is nowhere to be seen, not even in the connected bathroom.

With her living here, it feels like we are roommates who are getting used to one another's presence. I can tell she wants to get to know me better, with her subtle glances and awkward silence, but she is keeping a wall up and not getting too close. I know she’s hiding something her mother said to her on the phone.

It was a longer call than I was expecting and Cynthia calls everyday.

Zephira claims it’s to check the progress on finding Aster, but she locks herself in the room away from my ear shot, so I don’t believe her.

Do the guards not check her cell? Maybe I should call and leave an anonymous tip that she has a phone.

As sure as Cynthia is in my demise, I’m hopeful that I can defeat anyone she throws my way.

With Aster. My heart falls at the thought of not being partners in crime with my fox.

Placing my hand on the wall to keep from falling, I shove away the dark thoughts, my desperation in finding him pushing forward.

I walk slowly downstairs, taking a breath on each step so as to not lose my balance.

I find Zephira sitting at the island in the kitchen, hard at work on her laptop, half a blueberry bagel hanging from her mouth while the other half sits forgotten on a small plate next to her.

“Coffee?” I ask, walking to the cupboard and taking out all the stuff needed to make mine, including my Chucky and Tiffany glass.

“Nah, I’m good,” she mumbles around a mouthful.

Grabbing a stool next to her, I look at her computer. I bite my cheek, squinting at the screen. Several windows are open and running, data flashing by faster than I can understand. “What is all this?”

She looks at me like she’s deciding if she should tell me or not. It should annoy me that she still hasn’t let her walls fall, but she’s stuck in between a rock and a hard place with obeying Cynthia and wanting to get closer to me. I can’t blame her for the hesitation.

Swallowing her last bite she answers, pointing to each one, “This one is looking for any Kara’s in Massachusetts.

This one is pinpointing women with the features my mom gave me.

This one analyzes The Dishonored Bushi, looking at where she strikes and what her victim profile is.

This one is going over every single second of camera footage from the attacks and where the bodies were found.

This last one puts all the information the others are searching for into finding a name. ”

I stare slack jawed at the screen, utterly impressed with the woman in front of me.

She may be young, but she is a genius when it comes to hacking.

This is the kind of technology seen in movies that you think can’t possibly be real, but it is.

Zephira is living proof of it. I wonder if this is how she chooses her victims .

Seeing her sitting next to me, eating a damn bagel and tapping away at her computer, makes me forget she’s Salem’s Man-Eater.

“We will find him, Serena,” she promises, eyes focused on her screen as concentration dips her eyebrows.

“You said that already and we still have nothing.”

Her jaw ticks. “We have more than what we started with. Do you doubt my skills?”

I give her a sheepish smile. “After seeing you in action, I don’t doubt your skills. I actually think anyone who makes your list should be terrified.”

A wolfish grin spreads across her face. “You’re right about that.”

“I’m glad I’m not on your list,” I mumble, rubbing my arms and trying to erase the goosebumps running along them.

“Who says you’re not?” she teases, leaning in to inhale my scent like a predator.

“Am I?” I turn towards her, our faces inches away. Her eyes glance at my lips and I move my head away from hers. She’s not Aster. She giggles, sitting and turning back to her laptop.

“I only hunt men.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating on asking the question I’ve been dying to know since meeting her.

“You’re going to bleed if you keep gnawing at your mouth like that.” She pushes her laptop away, turning toward me. “Let me guess, you want to know why I only hunt men.”

“No, but yes. That wasn’t my question, but now I am curious.”

“No?” she cocks an eyebrow. “What do you want to know then?”

“Well, now I want to know why you only go after men. But my first question is not that.”

She says nothing as she places her plate into the sink.

I tilt my head. Is she going to answer my questions or are her walls going to stand strong? Will she stop us from getting closer or will she let me in? The only time she seems to answer anything is when Aster is around. My lips thin. I think she flirts and reveals her truths to get under his skin.

She stands and walks to the couch, tapping the spot beside her. Play it cool, Serena; if you get too excited, it could spook her. I suck in a sharp breath, getting up to sit next to her on the couch.

“What do you want to know?” she asks, letting the silence build between us.

“Will you answer both questions if I ask?”

She shrugs, sitting back to get comfortable. “Depends on what you want to know.”

“Are you only into girls or men too, and why only hunt men?” I blurt out before I Iose the courage.

“That’s it? Seriously?” she scoffs, sucking her teeth. “That was the question that made you a nervous ball of energy?”

Was I really putting off that much nervous energy?

Shifting uncomfortably, I jam my hands under my thighs to hide their shaking.

I thought I was holding myself together better.

My nerves are from wondering if we will find Aster in time, but she doesn’t like when I doubt her.

She covers it up with jokes and heavy flirting, but I can tell she’s just as worried.

I nod as she lets me sit in the deafening silence.

She swallows, blowing a raspberry and looking up at the ceiling “I like both, but I prefer girls. There has only been one boy and one girl who I have ever been interested in, but no one is privy to that information.” She levels me with a glare that says ‘don’t ask, because I’m not telling’.

So, I don’t. I motion, zipping my lips closed and pretend to hand her the key as she takes it gratefully, tucking it in her bra and patting it, which makes me chuckle.

She takes a deep breath. “As for the other question…” She nibbles on her bottom lip, her hands balled into fists. “I grew up similar to Aster, except I was placed in a foster care where a bad man did bad things to me. He’s dead now, but him and his sons are the reason why I bathe in men’s blood.”

“What do you mean you bathe in their blood?” I ask, with wide eyes as my mouth hangs open, my body frozen by this new information. The more I learn about her, the more amazed I am. I shake my head and blink a couple of times, excited to learn more about not only Zephira, but the Man-Eater.

“After I make my newest victim eat my previous one, I drain them of all their blood and bathe in it. Makes me feel powerful. Godlike. No longer the helpless girl I once was. I reclaim a little of what I lost with each kill.” She thrusts her arms in front of me.

“Plus, look at my skin; I’m always glowing like the goddess I was born to be. ”

My face falls, wanting to know more but knowing I shouldn’t press.

I need to let her open up to me when she is ready.

Baby steps. Getting to learn about her rituals is making me excited, but what happened to her, the horror that made her who she is makes my heart ache.

I place my hand on my heart as the two emotions battle inside me.

As much as I want to learn more about her rituals and past, I need to keep my mouth shut.

She holds her hand up, her face hardening. “Don’t. Don’t give me that face or feel sorry for me. My past made me who I am today. And I like being the bloodthirsty Man Eater.”

“Wait… you drink their blood?” I ask, trying not to make a what-the-fuck face.

“Sometimes,” she shrugs, “but I’m not fond of the taste of iron.”

“Then why do it?”

“Why do anything? Because I can and I want to; simple as that.”

Something tells me it isn’t as simple as that, but we all have our secrets, and I’ll let Zephira keep hers. For now.