He licked his lips. "No. I'm sure Cupid had never seen you. If he had, he might not have ever remembered to kill Neil or his mistress."

She widened her eyes, but terror didn't linger in them. Asher couldn't confirm that it was l.u.s.t, but it was better than the terror.

She touched her chest. "You want me to stay here, because you think Cupid wants to kill me?"

"No." He tucked the rose behind one ear. "I want you to stay here, because I can't think of any other woman or person I want to have next to me every night."

"Tonight was only a one-time thing."

"I believe you're mistaken."

"What do you think Cupid would believe?" she asked.

Careful, Diana. You're not ready to meet the monster yet. Maybe, you should only focus on Asher for tonight.

"Cupid doesn't deal with love," he said.

"No?" Diana asked. "Then what do you think Cupid deals with?"

"Death. Just death."

"Are you sure?"

"As much as I could be, Diana."

"That's a shame," she said as she continued up the stairs. "I'm tired. I should go to sleep. . .in my own room. I'm so sorry, but I'm out of it. Besides, I have more interviews with Cupid's victims' tomorrow morning. Remember?" She kept her back to me. "And then there's possibly a new victim."

"Yes." Asher thought back then to the b.l.o.o.d.y scene and message to Diana that he'd left behind.

"f.u.c.k." He cringed.

"Did you say anything?" Diana called back from the top of the stairs.

"No. Goodnight."

The b.l.o.o.d.y message to Diana flashed in his head. Earlier, he'd put wrote the blood on the wall to scare her into staying at the house longer. Cupid was supposed to be some crazy guy that could be stalking her. It was just supposed to be this quick fix to buy him some more days.

But now Diana knew that he was Cupid.

How could she not?

A bow and arrow lay in his closet. And he, himself, had shown a huge interest into the Cupid murders, even funding her with a lot of money to investigate it.

How stupid had he been to think he could keep his ident.i.ty a secret from Diana?

Tomorrow, she would either go to the scene herself or be told by the police. They'd have to connect her as the Diana in the message. It would make sense to at least check with the fifth's victim's widow who happened to also be named Diana.

He didn't worry about Diana telling the cops about him. What proof would she have? The bow and arrow would be gone from the closet, as well as anything else on his property.

Asher also had a strong alibi for Neil's murder, over two hundred partying guests would confirm that he was there. He even had an alibi for this recent murder. He always maintained footage of him sitting in the office at different parts of a given day. It would take no time to slip a pre-recorded disk out and have the security hand that to the police.

The cops would see him in his office all evening just like he said he'd been.

If anything, they would think Diana was crazy, and getting that label on small, yet wealthy Ovid Island, would further cage her to him.

She'll have nowhere to escape, not until I'm done.

He returned to the b.l.o.o.d.y message he'd left her earlier.

"d.a.m.n it." He ran his fingers through his blonde curls.

She knows I'm Cupid, and now I've written her name in f.u.c.king blood on a door above a dead body. Even worse, I carved the d.a.m.n name she gave me into his chest.

He blew out a long breath.

f.u.c.king fantastic! Now she's going to see the message and think I'm crazy!

"You are crazy," his mother said behind him.

Shocked, he twisted around and yanked the rose from his ear. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Saving your a.s.s as usual." She fanned herself, took off the leather jacket she always wore, and captured him in her arms. "She won't find out about you, Baby. I'll make sure of it."

"No." He pushed her away. "No, I don't need your help. I want you to go back to Paris."

"But, darling-"

"No." He pushed at her again. "I don't need you this time."

"No?" Her image rippled in front of him. "Are you sure, Honey?"

His chest filled with fear, but he nodded. "I'm sure."

And in the next moment, his mother evaporated in front of him.

He stood there for a long time. Moments like that were hard for him to swallow. It was in those seconds when he realized that his mother was actually dead.

He didn't like those times.

Yes. That's right.

He released another long breath.

I killed Mother. I really have to stop forgetting that.

Nineteen.

Diana

Diana paced back and forth in the bedroom she no longer felt comfortable in. Thoughts bounced around her skull like a pinball machine.

She'd slept with Asher.

And, Asher was Cupid.

Jesus!

Cupid was Asher.

And he'd killed Neil.

She didn't think about Neil's young life being taken from him by a bow and arrow. Neither did she give any thoughts to his dead mistress. Instead, she shook with fury that the hunt was over.

She'd barely gotten started. The ache to discover Cupid's ident.i.ty had burrowed so deep inside of her, and it had been ripped right from her grasp.

By accident.

Why had she snooped? Why couldn't she have just laid in bed with post-s.e.x bliss dripping from her dark, velvet skin? She would have been none the wiser and the thrill-that itch to do what she did best would still be there.

I'm going crazy. I just slept with the man that killed my husband, and I'm irritated that I found it out so soon. I should just escape away from him, and run right into a mental hospital.

What was she to do? She was certain Asher sensed the change in her. He'd given her a strange look, almost as if he could smell Diana's mingling emotions emanating from her flesh.

She wasn't as scared as she should have been. Perhaps it was because Cupid's kills had always held meaning.

There was reason behind the murders.

Logical, decipherable justifications.

Diana truly believed, even after knowing the truth, that Cupid didn't want her dead.

It wasn't that she was scared of Cupid-it was more that she was terrified she had developed feelings for him.

She respected him.

Honored his code.

Anyone who killed a man that raped his daughter nightly, was no enemy of mine, but. . .what do I do? Too much has happened. This man kills people. He's a psychopath or sociopath, or freaking both. I don't know.

She'd held Asher in her arms. Kissed his lips in a hundred different ways. Seen the way his blonde curls fell over his eyes when he bent down to suck on her nipples.

Her visions of Asher and Cupid swirled together, until she couldn't decipher who was who and how she felt about them separately. They were one in the same and the more she thought about it-the more anxious she became.

There was a part of Diana that wanted to expose him to the Ovid Island residents, for the sheer fact that he thought he could hide it. But there were other parts of her that dulled the rash decisions.

She wanted to ask him a hundred questions.

Had she always been part of his plan? How many more men had died at his hand? Why was he this way?

But how? How do you ask a man you've embraced and exchanged kisses with why he kills, as if it's a completely natural question?

Had her cell phone not gone off, she would have spent hours circling the endless cycle of questions she wanted to know.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Diana, it's Greg. There's been another murder."

Diana swallowed and for a brief second, she believed she made the entire night up in her head. If Cupid killed again, surely he would have been dealing with his mess. Not wrapped up in his lover's arms.

"Where?"

"South Manhatten Avenue."

"Are you sure it's related to the Cupid murders? That's below his comfort level for rich men."

Her boss sighed. "I'm sure. Look, you just... really should get down here. There's something you need to see for yourself."

Diana's heart raced. She'd was usually kept out of the crime scenes, not summoned to them. "Right. Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

She hugged the phone to her chest after her boss hung up. She stayed very still and tried to detect the anxiety inside of her. The fear that should have course through her.

But Diana wasn't afraid. She was thrilled. She would pretend the hunt was still on. If only for the night, so she could revel in the vibrations of discovery and uncovering. Tomorrow, she would decide what to do. But that night, she would feign ignorance.

She threw on jeans and a t-shirt, pulled her black curls into a loose ponytail and rushed down the giant staircase.

"Asher!"

His name echoed through the giant s.p.a.ce and there was no trace of movement.

"Asher?" She called out, more of a question than a demand.

Again, only darkness and silence answered her back.

"Oh this is ridiculous. Who needs a house this big anyway?" She mused aloud, rushing through the main hallway to the kitchen.

His chef jumped when Diana swung the door open.