Cupid’s Match

A cold breeze whips through the terrace as I spin back around to face Cal. He stands rigidly, his silvery eyes unmoving from Cupid’s face.

“He’s your brother?” I say. “Is that just what you call other cupids? Or is he actually, like, your brother brother?”

A dark look crosses Cal’s face. “Unfortunately, the latter.”

Cupid forces out a laugh as Cal moves to stand protectively beside me. I size them both up; Cal, slender and clean cut with his serious eyes and angular face, and Cupid, broad and rugged with a boyish grin. They don’t look alike, and I wonder momentarily whether they share two parents.

“You didn’t tell her we were related?” Cupid asks, his ocean-like eyes twinkling in the moonlight. He drags his gaze back to me. “He always wants to keep me a secret.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I say as the ghost of a smile flickers across Cal’s face.

“So, Brother, what got me off the hook?” Cupid asks. “Crystal tell you?”

Cal gives a tense nod. “Yes, she was tracking your movements. I presume we’ve come to the same conclusion?”

Cupid nods. “You presume right.”

“How long have you suspected that they were here?”

Cupid shrugs. “Since the Ardor in the Love Shack.”

Cal sighs heavily, his whole body seeming to deflate.

“What are you talking about?” I cut in. “Who shot Jack if it wasn’t Cupid?” Suddenly, something clicks into place. I look at Cal. “The bouncer said that you were the third new guy he’d admitted to the club that evening.”

The matchmaking agent gives a half nod, his eyes unmoving from his brother’s. “It’s because of you, you know,” he fires at Cupid. “You should never have come here.”

Cupid raises an eyebrow. “And miss all this fun?”

Cal does not look amused. He steps closer until they are standing nose to nose. “You need to leave,” he says, lacing each word with ice and threat. “You know what will happen if you don’t.”

I look from one brother to the other. Cupid is taller, more muscular, but Cal’s face is etched with greater fury, and I know from sophomore year, when I shoved Jason after he made a comment about Mom, that anger alone can win a fight.

“Guys,” I say sharply, “what’s happening?” The tension between them isn’t just about me, or Jack, or the match.

Cal shoots me a sideways look. “It’s none of your concern.”

Cupid gives an incredulous laugh. “I should think it is now!”

The two brothers stare at each other a moment longer before Cal takes a step back and sighs. He runs his hand through his fair hair. “She should never have been involved in any of this. Why did you come here?”

Cupid shrugs again. “She’s my Match, Brother. You really expect me, of all people, not to show?” A look of disdain passes over his face. “Terrible job of hiding her from me, by the way.”

Cupid catches my eye and I only just stop myself from nodding in agreement. I said it was a dumb plan from the start.

“Seriously, guys,” I say, “what the hell is going on?”

Suddenly, there is a loud clatter from downstairs. The two brothers lock gazes as screams, along with an odd whooshing, fill the night air. Then silence falls once more. A chill travels through my body and my skin prickles.

I race to the balcony edge. One of the brothers reaches out to grab me as I pass, but I brush the rogue arm out of my path and lean over the black railing to see the pool below.

Everything looks normal—my classmates are still chatting, drinks in hand, by the water. No one seems as though they even noticed the disturbance. I look over my shoulder at the two brothers, who seem to be silently communicating.

This isn’t right.

Suddenly, Cal pulls me back from the edge and down on top of him. I feel the hardness of his stomach muscles and the surprising strength in his arm across my torso as he holds me down.

“What the . . . ?” I begin, when a single arrow whizzes through the air where I was standing just moments before.

It embeds itself in the wall; silver and pink.

It’s the Capax.

And there’s a slip of paper pinned beneath its tip.

“A message,” Cupid says, almost to himself.

He pulls the note free just moments before the arrow turns to ash. After reading it, he looks back at Cal, who still has his arm clamped around my middle.

“They’re here,” he says. “We were right. It’s the Arrows.”

I feel Cal’s short intake of breath beneath me. Then he rolls me off him and gets to his feet and brushes himself down.

“We need to get Lila out of here. Now.”