Cupid's Match

by Lauren Palphreyman

  Cupid nods and falls back into a leather recliner in the corner of the room.

  “We’re staying here, then?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know . . . running away?”

  Cal glares at me. “Don’t you understand? They’re on their way. Now. We’ll never get away in time, and even if we could—Venus is after us. Venus with the full force of the Matchmaking Service behind her—the Matchmaking Service that, in case you’ve forgotten, has an extensive web of worldwide surveillance. There’s nowhere to hide.”

  I stare at him defiantly. “But they know we’re here, so we definitely won’t get away if we stay, will we?”

  “We’ll keep them out,” Cal says. “Or we’ll try to, anyway.”

  He pushes another button on the computer. There is a whirring sound as metal bars slide down to cover the glass window.

  “I have them over all my windows,” says Cupid, noticing me staring. “Can’t be too careful nowadays.”

  “What happens if they get in?” I ask.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Cal says icily, “but I imagine we’ll all die.”

  “All right, easy now, Brother . . .” Cupid says.

  Suddenly, a shuffling noise comes from down the hallway. As the three of us look toward the door, Cal reaches for a letter opener that sits on the desk. My heartbeat quickens. Then Charlie walks in, rubbing her eyes.

  She glances at Cupid and me, drenched with rain, and the small blade in Cal’s hand. She wrinkles her nose.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The match was made,” says Cal coldly. “Venus is back, and her agents are coming to arrest us all.”

  “Oh,” Charlie says. “Damn.”

  “Yes,” Cal says, “damn indeed.” He fires another look at Cupid. “Any idea how to get out of this mess you’ve got us into?”

  Cupid sighs. “Perhaps.” He pushes himself up out of the chair, shedding his towel, and comes to gently take my hands in his. “It’ll be okay, we’ll get out of this.”

  Charlie clears her throat.

  “You, too, Charlie.” He grins then turns to his brother. “Come to the combat room with me, we need to get set up with weapons.”

  For a moment the two brothers seem at an impasse, Cupid staring at Cal as though silently communicating something. Cal frowns. Then he nods sharply and the two of them walk toward the exit of the room.

  “Lila, Charlie,” Cal says at the door. “Keep an eye on the monitors. We have surveillance cameras all over the house and grounds. You see anyone approaching and you shout, okay?” He’s gone before either of us can agree.

  Charlie and I hurry around to the other side of the desk. Different parts of the house and grounds flicker in black and white across the screens.

  “So, the match was made,” Charlie says lightly.

  I look down. “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” I say. “You should never have been involved in any of this.”

  She shrugs and slides into the chair facing the monitors. “It’s not so bad being a cupid. Forever young, powerful, weirdly good at archery. The resurrection of an ancient goddess who wants to kill us is a bit of a downer, though.”

  Although there’s fear in her expression, she grins. I can’t help but grin back.

  “Did you kiss then?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes and laugh. The end of the world is coming and she still wants to gossip about boys. I nod.

  “Any good?”

  I think back to Cupid’s warm hands on my body, the taste of his kisses mixed with raindrops. “You could say that.”

  She leans her head against my arm and we fall into silence, staring at the grayscale monitors.

  A few minutes later the brothers reappear. Between them, they carry bows and quivers for all of us, each quiver filled with all three different types of arrows. Cupid hands Charlie and me ours, then shares another odd look with his brother. Cal opens the case on the table and slips the Finis into his quiver, hiding it among the other arrows. I’m surprised—I thought that Cupid would have wanted to be the one to take it, given killing Venus was the original reason he came to Forever Falls.

  A movement on one of the monitors stops the question in my throat. Tiny shapes are appearing on Juliet Hill. I grab the edge of the desk to prevent the tremble in my hand.

  What I see is even worse than I’d imagined. This isn’t a team of agents; it’s an army.

  “Oh my God,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “They’re coming.”

  47

  The screen shows a block of armed cupids marching across the grounds, their bows raised. My mouth dry, I spin around to study the barred window. As the steady mass of white suits gets closer, the stomping of feet begins to resound around the study.

  “Oh my God,” I repeat.

  “Guys,” says Charlie, still staring at the monitors. “There’s more—they’re surrounding the house.”

  The three of us crowd behind her. Similar blocks of agents have appeared on another two of the screens. As they reach the grounds they begin to disperse, forming a perfect circle around the building.

  “Well, this is it,” Cupid says.

  He throws a sideways look at Cal, who is still staring at the screens as, outside, one of the cupids at the front of the ranks produces a megaphone from under his jacket.

  “On the orders of Venus, you are under arrest! You are surrounded. Please exit the building with your hands raised above your heads.”

  I look at the two brothers. “Now what? They can’t get in, can they?”

  Cupid shakes his head and falls back into the leather recliner.

  “Now we wait”—he looks at me darkly—“for as long as we can.”

  Around an hour passes. It’s excruciating. The agents from the Matchmaking Service still surround the building, and at regular intervals the booming voice calls for us to go outside. Each time it does, my whole being fills with dread. Cupid, however, seems unperturbed. He continues to lean back in the recliner, his eyes closed.

  Charlie and I have found a way to share the office chair, and stare at the screens. My stomach is turning anxiously. Across the study, Cal paces back and forth with his bow slung over his shoulder.

  “Will you desist, Brother,” Cupid says after a while, his eyes still closed. “You’re making me nervous.”

  After a few more laps of the room Cal walks to the exit.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  Cal looks at me. “None of your concern.”

  As he disappears into the hallway, I share a look with Charlie, who shrugs.

  “The longer you take the worse it will be for you!” booms the voice from outside.

  I study the monitors. I don’t see how we can get out of this.

  After a few minutes Cupid sighs and gets up out of the chair. “Come on, let’s go make a coffee or something. This is just depressing.”

  I hesitate, reluctant to go downstairs.

  “It’s safe,” he says. “They can’t get in unless the bars are lifted. And the only place that the bars can be controlled from is in here.”

  I share another look with Charlie, who shrugs again. “I wouldn’t say no to a coffee,” she says.

  The three of us head down to the kitchen, where I see Cupid wasn’t lying—large bars cover the glass entryway. Cal is peering out through them, his phone pressed to his ear. On hearing us enter, he hurriedly stuffs it into his pocket.

  Cupid frowns. “Calling someone?”

  Cal turns around slowly to face his brother. “Crystal.” He looks uncomfortable for a moment, his eyes not quite meeting Cupid’s. Then he stalks past us.

  “You don’t want to stay down here for a coffee, Cal?” Cupid says, his tone challenging—cold. I look between the pair of them, wondering if I’m missing something.

  “Someone needs to watch what’s g
oing on outside,” Cal says, his voice flat.

  Cupid watches his brother leave with reproach. Then he wanders over to fiddle with the coffee machine.

  “What’s up with him?” I ask after a few moments of tense silence.

  Cupid hands us two coffees. “I think my brother is about to betray us.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  He looks at me steadily. “I don’t think he was on the phone to Crystal. I think he’s just negotiated himself a deal.”

  “No,” I say. “No. No way.”

  Cupid takes a sip of the dark liquid and leans back against the counter. “Wait for it.”

  A whirring sound kicks up a few seconds later. I spin around to see the bars over the windows slowly rising. The coffee mug falls from my hand and shatters, the black liquid splattering the white floor. I feel sick.

  Cupid looks at us. “Upstairs, now.”

  When we reach the study, Cal is standing in front of the window, backlit by the warming light from outside. The bottoms of the bars disappear upward.

  There’s no doubt about it.

  He did it. He betrayed us.

  “How could you?” I screech as the sound of marching intensifies; they’re coming. I run forward to hit Cal but Cupid grasps my arm firmly and holds me back.

  “I bet you’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you?” he says coldly. “The moment when you could turn me in and return to Her good graces.”

  Cal glares back at him. “I tried to help you. I tried to get you to leave town. I tried to protect your Match.”

  “Look at her!” roars Cupid. “Say her name!”

  Cal doesn’t look at me. “You broke the law and you need to be punished,” he says, dispassionate.

  “Does Lila need to be punished?” asks Cupid. “Does Charlie?”

  “There will be a fair trial.”

  “Like hell there will be a fair trial.”

  I’ve never seen Cupid look this angry before. He lets me go and races toward Cal, grabbing him and slamming him into the opposite wall. They face each other—almost nose to nose—anger burning on both of their faces.

  Then the door to the study bursts open.

  Cupid throws a punch at Cal’s face, connecting hard and knocking Cal to the floor just as the agents begin to spill into the room. Although Cupid grabs his bow and begins shooting arrows, the agents are too fast and too close. Five of them grab his arms and thrust him to his knees, then flat on the ground. One grabs him by the hair and forces his gaze to me.

  “Commander,” shouts one gruffly, “we’ve got them.”

  The agents by the doorway part as someone walks through. He is tall and slender with dark hair and cold eyes. His black bow is larger and more elaborate than those of the other agents, and I notice a V broach pinned to his white jacket.

  “Cal,” he says, “take the girl.”

  Cal has regained his feet and now looks at me for the first time since his betrayal.

  “Cal,” I whisper, “please.”

  “Take the girl,” repeats the Commander coldly. “If you want to come back to the service, if you want your crimes to be excused, take the girl.”

  After only a brief pause, Cal moves toward me. Hands shaking, I grab an arrow from my quiver and hold it in front of me, my back still pressed against the window. I note the arrow’s pink tip: the Capax, the truth arrow. I curse myself. It’s not the one I need.

  “Cal,” Cupid warns, his neck still arched back. He’s struggling against the agents holding him but they force him to watch as Cal gets closer. “Get away from her! Get away from her!” he says, starting to thrash.

  “Cal,” I say, “please don’t do this.”

  Cal ignores us, his face full of disdain. I keep the arrow extended, and then, slowly he walks right into it—letting it pierce his stomach. His eyes widen as it does. Pain covers his face as it crumbles to ash in my shaking fingers.

  “Did you ever care for me?” I ask. He’s been hit by the Capax. He has to tell the truth.

  He stares at me, uncertainty flashing across his expression before his face hardens once more.

  “No.”

  He twists my arms roughly behind my back then pushes me forward, toward the throng of agents in the doorway.

  “What about the others?”

  “Leave the others,” says the Commander. “Venus just wants the girl.”

  Cupid manages to throw off one of the agents, then another. “LILA!” he roars, meeting my horrified gaze as he tries to rise from the floor. But the agents keep coming back.

  The Commander surveys the scene coldly. “Knock him out.”

  One of the agents raises her bow and thrusts it into the side of his head.

  “Cupid!” I scream as he slumps to the ground, unconscious.

  Cal just holds me in place, awaiting instruction from the agent in charge. I struggle against his grip. I want his hands off me.

  “Take her to the cars,” says the Commander. “We’re driving back to the Matchmaking Service.”

  Then he turns to me and smiles thinly.

  “Time to find out what Venus makes of Cupid’s Match.”

  48

  Cal marches me outside. The storm from earlier has passed, leaving puddles of water on the ground. The army of Venus’s agents have begun to march back up Juliet Hill and their boots squelch in the mud. Cal and I follow, his hand tightly curled around my arm.

  “How could you do this?” I seethe, craning my neck to try and look at his face.

  Cal ignores me, continuing to push me along from behind. I think of Cupid, unconscious on the floor, and the steely gaze of the Commander as he instructed Cal to take me. I have to get away from these people.

  With all the force I can muster I pull my arm away. It slips out of Cal’s hand and I feel a moment of brief elation before he grabs me again and whirls me around to face him.

  “Where are you going to go, Lila? Look around you. They’d catch you in an instant. Would you really rather someone else take you in?”

  “Yes,” I hiss at him. “I’d rather be taken in by anyone other than you.”

  For a moment I think I detect a flash of hurt, which gives me a harsh satisfaction.

  “Believe me, Lila, no, you wouldn’t.”

  He pushes me ahead of him and we continue walking up the hill. As we do, one of the passing agents—dark haired and tanned—looks at me and smirks. He looks familiar and I realize with a jolt where I’ve seen him before.

  “He’s one of the Arrows. I shot him when we rescued Crystal. This is who you’ve chosen over your own brother?”

  “The Arrows have always been an extension of the Cupids Matchmaking Service, if a little extreme,” he says. “But we’re all united under Her now.”

  After a push, we start walking once more. When we reach the top of the hill, I halt. Hundreds of expensive-looking cars line the summit. Being a cupid has its perks, Cal had said to me when he trained me for the first time.

  I attempt to throw another angry look over my shoulder at him. How could he do this? To me? To Cupid? He stops moving. Our eyes catch—and for just a moment the angles in his face seem to soften. His mouth parts.

  It gives me hope.

  Maybe he hasn’t betrayed us.

  Maybe this is all an act.

  Maybe he’ll just take me in a car and drive me away from all this.

  Maybe . . .

  “You’re traveling with us,” says the cold-faced Commander, marching up beside Cal. “Need to keep an eye on you both.”

  He heads to a red Ferrari parked at the very front of the lot, where a stern blond awaits. She points a key at the car and two side doors slide upward. They climb inside. Cal marches me toward it.

  “Get in.”

  His face is hard and, in an instant, the ho
pe is gone. I look around frantically, trying to determine if there’s any way to escape. Cupids are still making their way up the hill and climbing into cars. There are too many of them. There’s no way out of this.

  I have to turn around to get in the seat, and when I do, I meet Cal’s eyes again. The angles of his face are sharp.

  “Please, Lila,” he says. “Just get in the car.”

  I stare at him for another moment and then do as he says. I have no choice: where else can I go? Cal gets in beside me. The doors close and the female agent starts the engine. It’s then that if finally hits me.

  This is it.

  They’re taking me to Venus.

  No one speaks on the journey. Cal stares down at his hands as he twists them in his lap, and doesn’t look at me once. Turning in my seat, I glance out of the rear window, squinting against the early morning light. We’re riding down a wide L.A. freeway with tall palm trees standing at attention on either side. The stream of the cupids’ expensive cars surrounds us.

  We must be heading to the Matchmaking Service. If Venus is the founder, then surely that’s where she’ll be. I try to cling to the hope that, while Cal might have betrayed us, Crystal could still be on side; maybe she will help me make my escape.

  Soon we reach the boulevard where the Cupids Matchmaking Service stands. The driver presses a button on the dashboard and the pavement ahead slides open. She maneuvers the car through the opening and we drive down a ramp into a large underground garage. The girl parks the Ferrari in a space marked Priority Parking. Then she opens the car doors and my body turns cold.

  “Thank you, Claire,” says the Commander before looking over his seat at Cal and me. “Time to meet the boss,” he says before climbing out.

  “Get out,” Cal says, still not looking at me.

  I ignore him, my mind struggling to process what is happening. I was matched with Cupid. Cal betrayed us. They’re taking me to meet an ancient goddess. She wants to kill me. This can’t be real. It can’t be.

  Cal grabs his bow and quiver, climbs out of the car, and then purposefully makes his way over to my side. He opens the door and stands there stiffly for a moment, waiting for me to move. I don’t. He sighs and leans across me—so close that I can smell his cologne. As he does so, I catch a hint of gold among the arrows in his quiver—the Finis.