Page 95 of The Blue Rose
I tiptoe behind Aster as we enter the kitchen. Sitting on the island, picking her nails with a knife, is the beautiful blonde I sold the painting to. Not a drop of jealousy flows through me when seeing her here. I’m more concerned with how she got in unnoticed, Aster has everything set up to notify him when anyone comes onto his property. There wasn’t a car parked out front, so she must have walked. I take in her appearance, she’s dressed in jeans and a black tank top, her nails matching her shirt with a red glint to them.
“Who the fuck are you, and how did you get into my house?” Aster seethes, teeth clenched.
“You’re the girl from the flea market,” I whisper, making Aster look between us, anger coursing through his eyes.
“You have five seconds to leave before I kill you,” Aster threatens.
She stops picking her nails and looks up, raising a delicate brow in a severe arch. “Awe, is that anyway to speak to your baby sister?”
I stumble back, almost falling to the floor.I thought Aster was an only child?I look up at him, finding the same look on his face that’s on mine.Well, Fuck.
THIRTY-THREE
ASTER
“Idon’t have a sister,” I grit out.
“Yet here I am.” She motions to herself.
Who is this girl claiming to be my sister?Mom and Dad were taken away, and, as far as I know, Mom wasn’t pregnant at the time. She would have told me. That isn’t something she would ever keep from me. My fists clench at my side, my eyes boring into hers.
I study her face, my thoughts nearly too chaotic to focus. Her hair is a light blonde, almost white, and she has brown eyes that kind of look like my dad’s, but the shape of my mom’s.That’s just coincidence; there’s no way she’s who she says she is.
“I know you probably don’t believe me, long lost sister and all, so.” She reaches behind her, pulling out a piece of paper. “This should convince you.” She jumps down off the counter, and I snatch the paper from her, instantly recognizing my mother’s handwriting. My hand crushes the corner of the paper crumpling it, as anger, confusion, hurt, swirl through me.
My Little Fox,
I know you haven’t heard from us in a long time. Probably thought we were dead, me and your father. We are not, and I am so sorry for never writing. You see, after we were taken, I wrote you the letter I hope you were given. It was meant to be the last time you heard from me. That wasn’t for no reason; you see, a couple weeks after I wrote that, I found out I was pregnant. I was in a state of shock. Your father was locked up. I was locked up. I knew they would never let me keep her; she’d be placed in the system like you. Never knowing who we are, or that she had a big brother. To deal with that, I had to become stronger for both my kids. Your father and I made connections everywhere we could, and when I gave birth, your sister was taken from my arms, I went into a fit of rage. One of our friends calmed me down and said he would find out where she goes and keep eyes on her for me. I asked him to find out where you were and what you were doing. He did, and as you both grew I heard everything from the inside and had him relay it to your father as well. When he found out your sister was snatched from my arms, he killed a guard. That got him sent underground for a while. He never could manage his impulsiveness well. But my companion told mewho you became, that you were doing what you were destined for. I am so proud. Then, when your sister came of age, she started to have questions. I didn’t want her to know where she came from yet, she was too young to start, but your sister is smarter than she looks. She found out my connection was watching her and almost killed him for it. The only thing that saved him was breaking my trust and telling her who we were. She demanded to know the truth, and he told her everything. She sought me out, and I had my first visitor after eighteen years. Seeing her in person took my breath away. She is so beautiful and looks just like you, with Dad’s eyes. She would visit when she could, and my inside contacts let us have private time, where I finally taught her everything I know. The woman before you is your sister, Zephira; she’s known as a man eater. She has much to tell you that I can’t write, but heed her warning or there will be consequences. I love you so much my little fox.
Mom.
I crush the paper in my hand, throwing it to the ground, angry at my mother for never reaching out. She waited eighteen years to tell me. She should have told me the moment she found out or when I turned eighteen myself.
She didn't.
She waited for this moment. Mom has always been one to plan, to wait patiently; she wasn’t spontaneous like Dad. She's methodical. Cunning. The only thing that has changed in my life is Serena. She couldn’t possibly know about her though, I’m observant; I know when I’m being watched. I pace in front of Serena, looking down at the floor, fingers running through my hair.
I didn’t know I was being watched though.Her connection is better than I thought.When I find out who he is, he’s going to pay.
My sister is a serial killer like me, and she happens to be one of the best. I never care to know about other killers since I like to work alone. As long as they don’t get in my way, I don’t get in theirs. With the Man Eater only going after men, and myself only going after women, I didn’t look into them. Turns out, she’s my own flesh and blood.
I’ve always wondered what it would have been like to have a sibling. What it would have been like to grow up, being molded into the person we are today. I was born to be a killer, but my sister;how did she follow in our parents footsteps?
I halt my pacing, looking at her once more.She looks young. Maybe early twenties?Her eyes show the tortured parts of her soul she tries to hide.What has she been through to age her so?
“Believe me now?” she asks, opening my fridge to grab a bottle of water.
“What do you need to tell me that Mom couldn’t?”
“Oh, we’ll get to that, but first I’d like to get to know my big brother and-” she looks behind me “-your little lamb.”
I push Serena further behind me, but she steps around me and holds her hand out. “I’m Serena, but you already knew that. Which means you know I’mnothis little lamb; I’m his vixen.”
Instead of shaking her hand, Zephira pulls her in for a hug and smells her. I snatch her back instantly, putting myselfbetween them once more. My hand tightens around Serena’s arm, as jealousy of my sister sniffing her courses through me.
“Oh, I like you. You smell good, and you’re spicy, Such a shame. I’m Zephira.”
“What’s a shame?” Serena asks, sticking her head out.
