Cupid’s Match

I don’t know how I manage to sleep, but somehow I do. When I next open my eyes, the embers of the fire are glowing orange and early-morning light creeps in through the heavy red curtains. I jolt upward, pulling the blanket to my chest as I sense a pair of eyes watching me. Cupid is sitting upright on the sofa, a huge grin on his face.

“Jeez, Cupid,” I say. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Watching me while I sleep? That’s not creepy or anything . . .” My eyes dart about the room. The other couch is now empty. “Where’s Cal?”

“He went downstairs to train,” he says. “And in all fairness, while you were dribbling and mumbling and snoring over there, it was really hard not to gawk!”

I give him a look. “I was not!”

He grins. “Fine, you weren’t. You looked adorable, okay? Now—shall we go and wake our angry little cupid up? See if that arrow venom has left her system yet?”

We head up the black spiral staircase to the spare room, and I can’t help but recall the last time I was up here. If I hadn’t followed Cupid out onto the balcony, would things have turned out differently? Or would I still be here now, going to wake up my best friend, who has been turned into a cupid, after spending the night with a literal love god?

Before we reach the terrace, Cupid stops and knocks on one of the doors. I feel a knot of tension in my stomach as I remember the way Charlie looked at me last night.

“Come in,” Charlie grunts from inside.

We enter a simple but elegant bedroom. The carpet and curtains are a soft white, and there is an ornate black dressing table with a mirror by the wall. Charlie is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the double bed, still dressed in the jeans and black top she was wearing yesterday. Her cell phone is in her lap.

She looks up as we approach, and when our eyes meet, I see something of the old Charlie in them: the sleepovers, the school detentions, and the gossiping during our lunch breaks all seem to flicker behind her expression.

She winces. “Did I really try to kill you yesterday?”

I feel a wave of relief and nod.

She puts her head into her hands.

“You’re feeling better then?” I ask.

“Well . . . I feel different. It’s all a bit of a blur. I don’t really remember all of it. My head is killing me—probably because you headbutted me.” She groans. “It’s like having a really epic hangover.”

“But without the fun from the night before,” Cupid says, grinning.

She gives him a dubious look but then sighs dramatically. “Yeah.”

He laughs. “It sucks, but that can be the case after the transformation.” He inclines his head at the phone on her lap and his eyes narrow, the humor disappearing from his face. “Someone’s contacted you?”

She beckons us over to show us a message from an unknown number.

“Well that’s . . . interesting,” says Cupid.

My stomach lurches as I read it. It’s from the Arrows.

Keep an eye on the Match. We will take her soon. Be ready.

Half an hour later we’re congregated around the breakfast bar; Charlie and I on stools, Cal standing, and Cupid leaning against the counter by his high-tech microwave, eating a bowl of Froot Loops.

We’re all staring at Charlie’s cell phone in the center of the granite island.

“Ask them if Crystal is okay,” Cal orders. He’s dressed uncharacteristically casually in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt that’s slightly too big for him. I wonder if he’s borrowed the outfit from his brother.

Charlie looks at him warily, then taps out a message. She seems mostly herself again, though her body is angled away from me. Moments later, her phone buzzes in response.

She has not talked. This could take a while. Be ready.

Cupid looks relieved, Cal pained. I understand both of their reactions; the Arrows don’t know where the Finis is yet—which is good—but that means that Crystal is still being tortured.

I take a nervous sip of the coffee Cal thrust into my hand as soon as I walked into the kitchen.

“They said you’d help them get to Lila,” says Cupid. “Ask them about their plans for Lila.”

Charlie types in another message and a couple of minutes later the phone buzzes again.

We know you are on the party planning committee. We need you to get us peacefully into the Forever Falls dance on Friday, and make sure she is in attendance.

“Tell them you’ll bring her to them now,” Cupid says. “But only if they tell you how many of them there are, how many weapons they have, and to give you their address first.”

Cal and I both look at him.

“But in a more subtle way,” Cupid says. “Obviously.”

She keys in a message and we wait. It takes a good five minutes before we get the reply.

Too risky. Cupid will be watching her. Just get her to the dance. We’ll be in touch.

“Interesting. They clearly want the distraction of the dance,” says Cupid. “Gives us a bit of time to plan, at least.” He places his cereal bowl in the sink and stares pensively into his yard for a moment. The morning light that streams through the glass paints his hair gold. “With lots of people in the same place, it’ll be easy for them get Lila out undetected.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “I don’t get it, though. Why don’t they just ask Charlie to kill me now?”

Charlie suddenly appears very interested in the bottom of her mug.

“They think the Finis is within their reach,” says Cal, heavily. “I imagine they’ll want to hold you hostage so that Cupid will come to them willingly; you would be the easier one to kill, but he’s the one they really want. This whole ordeal has given them a perfect excuse to go after him. Which means unless we can get a hold of the Finis, they’re not going to be easy to negotiate with.”

I frown at Cal.

“Hold me hostage? That’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” says Cupid. “If they catch you, I’ll come for you. I’ll always come for you.”

His eyes beseech mine but I look away. I can’t let him draw me in.

“What about the whole unbreakable-oath-on-the-Styx thing?” I say. “We tell them Cupid will leave town once he has the arrow and he won’t come back.” My heart feels a little heavy saying it.

Cal pinches the bridge of his nose. “I think they’ve proven they’re a little past accepting that now,” he says.

“My brother’s right,” says Cupid. “They’ve hated me a long time. Our . . . politics are somewhat opposing. And they’re not easy to reason with. Not when they have the upper hand. Which they do.” He shrugs heavily. “They have Crystal, they think they have Charlie under their cupid-y thrall, and they have a plan. We need to get the Finis before they do.”

Cal turns sharply to Cupid. “And you’re still leaving town when we find it.”

“’Course, Brother,” says Cupid with a strained smile.

“How are we going to find the Finis when the only person who knows where it is has been captured by the Arrows?” I ask.

“It’s all going to kick off at the dance. And they need me to get in, right?” says Charlie. “I have an idea.”

After she tells us, Cupid leaves the room. He comes back carrying a pink-tipped arrow, which he places on the breakfast bar.

“We need to make sure you’re not lying to us, Charlie,” says Cupid.

She doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, then she nods slowly. “Fine.” She picks up the arrow then lightly pricks her fingertip. She breathes in sharply as it turns to ash in her hands.

“Are you going to betray Lila?” asks Cupid.

“No. Are you going to leave town if we get the Finis?” she says.

Cupid looks at her warily then nods.

She turns to me. “They shot me with two arrows, tried to make me a killer, and took my friend. I won’t betray you, Lila. Let’s get these guys. Let’s get Crystal back.”