“Fine. Fine,” Logan breathes, his hands up defensively. “Yours. Can we go deface a Prophet’s pretty little house now?”
I take a deep breath, clearing the murderous haze from my eyes.
What the fuck was that?
Blinking, I grab Logan’s shoulder and squeeze it once in apology.
“Yeah,” I murmur. Then louder, “Let’s watch Ezekiel scramble to save face when the graffiti is on theoutsideof the house.”
It’s going to be another fun night.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow I’ll get Jules out of my system.
8
JULES
Iswipe on more mascara, making sure to coat all my lashes. I don’t know what I’m more nervous about—being alone with a possible killer or being alone with the man who made me come in a semi-public place with his hand on my throat. But I can see my pulse racing, fluttering at my neck.
Turning my head, I admire the very faint fingerprints he left behind. My pussy clenches at the memory of Elias’s fingers, his filthy, outrageous words, that unhinged sharpness to his gaze.
“What are you doing, Jules?” I ask myself. My eyes are wild, excited. I’ve never seen myself like this.
I should cancel.
But I won’t.
Because no one has ever pushed all my buttons at the same time like that. One evening with Elias and I’m an addict.
I grab my phone and keys, take one last look in the mirror, and exit my little bungalow house. My Harley’swaiting for me, and I pat the seat before straddling it. I put on my gloves and helmet with practiced motions, and I’m off… to the carnival.
The engine roars to life beneath me, a familiar vibration that settles my nerves even as it stokes everything else. I pull out onto the darkening road, the last of the town’s streetlights thinning behind me as I head toward Marrow Falls. The air is cool against my jacket, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.
The road curves through stretches of forest and open farmland, the beam of my headlight cutting a clean path through the dark. I lean into each bend, muscle memory taking over, my thoughts slipping away. Riding has always been my reset—speed and balance, nothing else allowed in my head. But tonight, Elias keeps intruding anyway. His voice. His eyes. The way he said my name like it belonged to him.
A pair of towns blur past—sleepy places with closed diners and flickering gas stations, porch lights glowing. I picture him waiting for me in his trailer. Maybe cooking dinner. Probably thinking of the ways he’s going to rock my world. I should be cataloging facts, forming questions, planning angles. Instead, my pulse syncs with the engine, climbing as the road signs start pointing toward the carnival.
I crest a small hill, and there it is—the glow on the horizon. Gold and red lights pulsing against the night, music riding the wind in broken snatches. The Seven Sins Carnival. Even from here, it feels like a gravity well, pulling me closer whether I want it to or not. I roll on the throttle, heart thudding, knowing I’m not just riding toward a story.
I’m riding straight back into temptation.
The carnival looks exactly like it did the previous couple of days—excited teenagers chasing thrills, adults on datesgiving each other moon eyes, busy food stalls, long queues. It’s me who’s changed under the attention of its ringmaster.
I walk past the attractions open to the public to the back, where I know the carnival workers stay in their trailers. This time, I have permission to be here. When I’m chasing a lead, I always walk with purpose, acting as if I belong. When that’s actually true, though, there’s a lot less anxiety.
One of the idling mechanics sidles up next to me. “Are you looking for me, sweetheart?”
I smile at him—he’s around my height and easy on the eyes in that boy-next-door way. But I got a taste of the dark side wrapped in a gorgeous package with a ribbon made of charisma.
“I’ve got a date with Elias,” I say, then wink at him. “Though if he fumbles me, I’ll meet you right here.”
The mechanic laughs, a pleasant sound. “Right, right, the blue hair. Should have known. Boss’s trailer is the big one at the edge of the forest, right by the fence.”
I look around, considering the fence that runs around the whole carnival.
“What’s with that thing anyway? Must be a pain to set up, then take down, and set up again wherever you go?”
The mechanic shrugs, hands in his pocket. He really is cute.
