Cupid’s Match

I wake up in the middle of the night to find that I’m in a large four-poster bed. The sheets are silky against my skin. It’s dark, but the window across the room lets in the light of a full moon outside. It illuminates a pile of tattered books on the side table.

I’m in Cupid’s bed.

I force my mind to go over the events of the last few hours: the Arrows, the strong pull I felt toward Cupid, and then finally being sent to bed to sleep off the effects of the Capax. I put my head in my hands, cringing hard.

Oh God, did I dance with Cal?

Then my breath catches as I remember what happened to Charlie. When things didn’t go to plan, Cupid said they’d had to improvise. They’d faked a fight between the two of them until the Arrows had realized their chance to grab me had passed and invited her to go with them. And she went.

I can’t believe Cupid didn’t stop her. He said she’d be safe, that we could track the GPS on her phone and that would lead us to Charlie and Crystal. But I don’t like this at all. I don’t want her to be in such a dangerous situation.

I slide out of bed. I need to know whether they’ve found her yet—I need to know my friend is safe. I quickly check my phone to see if she’s messaged me, then pad across the hardwood floor to the door. I’m still wearing my dress, and my hair is tangled around my shoulders. I must look a mess right now.

From the doorway I hear raised voices coming from downstairs. I creep along the hallway and make my way down the twisty staircase.

“I’ve reread Crystal’s account in The Records of the Finis,” I hear Cal snap. “And the Finis can kill anyone who shares the blood of Cupid. That’s what it says.”

There’s the flutter of papers as Cal presumably drops the document onto the breakfast bar.

“What’s your point, Brother?” asks Cupid.

“It’s not just me who shares your blood, is it? There’s another. If you’re doing what I think you’re doing . . .”

“And what’s that?”

There’s a pause.

“You want the match to be made,” says Cal, lowering his voice to an angry whisper. “You want the founder back. And you want the Finis. You don’t want it to protect yourself, you want it to kill—”

“So what if what you’re saying is true?” says Cupid. “Wouldn’t it be better? To not live in fear anymore? You and Amena could be together again.”

“I don’t feel that way about her anymore,” snaps Cal.

There’s a pause.

“Well, after that display at the dance, it does seem you’ve moved on,” Cupid says, and I note a hint of jealousy in his tone.

Cal doesn’t reply for a moment. Then, “You shouldn’t be putting so many lives at stake,” he says quietly.

Thinking I hear footsteps approaching, I hurry back down the hallway. “And you especially shouldn’t be putting Lila’s life at stake,” Cal’s fading voice says as I slip back into the bedroom.

My heart is thumping fast. I don’t think I can trust Cupid anymore.

What is going on?

I want to get out of here, but I can’t leave yet, not when Charlie is in danger. When I hear footsteps start down the hall, I run to the bed and leap back in.

There’s a light rap on the bedroom door and my body tenses. I don’t want either of the brothers to know I heard them. Especially not Cupid. Not yet, not until I know what I need to do.

There’s another rap.

“Lila?” Cupid’s voice comes into the room. “You awake?”

I don’t reply. He knocks again.

“Lila?”

Taking a deep breath, I sit up. I scoot back toward the headboard and pull the silky sheets to my chin. “Yes?”

Cupid opens the door. He’s changed out of his suit and is now wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. He approaches the bed and sits down on the edge, placing a stack of folded clothing beside him.

His breathing seems heavy. I wonder if the argument he has just had with Cal has got to him.

“Have you managed to track Charlie yet?” I ask in a voice as even as I can make it.

“There’s something interfering with the signal,” he says, “but she’ll message us when she can. She’ll be safe, don’t worry—they think she’s one of them.”

My heart drops. I want to find her. I want her back.

Cupid says nothing for a moment. “I just wanted to check you were okay,” he says.

“I’m fine.”

Cupid looks at me curiously. “Are you sure?” When I force a smile, he points to the stack at the end of the bed. “I’ve brought you some clothes,” he says. “Just an old T-shirt and some of my shorts. I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

I nod again. He seems to study me for a moment.

“I know you’re worried about your friend, but she’ll be okay. We’ll get her and Crystal out of there before you know it. Trust me.”

I force another smile—my cheeks are starting to scream.

“You danced with my brother,” he says after an awkward silence. His voice is a little strained, and before I can answer, he stands up. “It was just the Capax,” he says, then walks briskly to the door.

“Cupid?”

He looks over his shoulder.

“Who’s the founder of the Matchmaking Service?”

A look of suspicion creeps onto his face. I wonder if he’s realized I’ve overheard his conversation.

“We made a deal, Cupid.”

He nods sharply. “In the morning,” he says. “We’ll go to the Love Shack first thing and I’ll tell you everything.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Get some sleep.”

Cal is sitting at the breakfast bar when I come down several hours later, clutching a cup of coffee and staring vacantly at nothing. He looks like he hasn’t slept all night. The Records of the Finis sits in front of him. He jumps when I walk in.

“Hi, Cal.” The air between us feels charged. I know we’re both thinking about our dance last night.

“Lila,” he says shortly, giving a sharp nod in greeting.

“Any news?”

He shakes his head. “We think Charlie has no phone signal wherever she is. We just have to wait it out, hope she manages to send us a message today.” He goes back to staring at the papers on the table.

“What are you doing?”

Cal runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Just trying to find some clue as to where Crystal might have hidden the Finis. When she was taken she said, ‘I wasn’t always a receptionist.’ What does that mean?”

“What was she before she was a receptionist?” I ask.

He shrugs. “An agent,” he says. “Like me. Before that, a human. But that doesn’t help at all.”

I think for a moment. “When did she become a receptionist?”

“I don’t remember. There’ll be a record of it somewhere, though.” He looks up at me, his silvery eyes a little brighter. “Hey. That might actually help!”

I give him a half smile. “The tone of surprise is a bit insulting,” I say, heading toward the door. “I’m going to walk home. I want to get changed and check in with my dad before we go to the Love Shack.”

“Dressed like that?” he says. “Won’t he be a bit suspicious as to where you’ve been?”

I look down at my combo of huge white T-shirt, baggy shorts, and heels.

He sighs then gets to his feet. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

I follow him to his Lamborghini. On the road things get awkward again. My mind flashes back to our fingers entwined, our foreheads touching. I feel heat rushing to my face and try to distract myself, looking out of the window.

“You’re meeting Cupid today, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly.

I nod.

“He’s going to give you some answers?”

I nod again. Cal sighs heavily as he pulls up outside my house. He looks like he’s holding the world atop his slender shoulders.

“I won’t try to stop him,” he says. “It’s against procedure for our organization to divulge secrets to humans, but nothing is worse than the consequence of you matching with him. It’s about time you learned the truth.”

I wonder if his heated conversation with Cupid last night has changed his perspective on things. I step out of the car and turn back to look at him seriously.

“Yes, I think it is.”