Cupid's Bow

by Heather R. Blair

  She bites her lip as I look at her through the sight. Those blue-green eyes are wide and unexpectedly soft. Slowly, she nods, her hair catching fire in the light of the setting sun behind me. “Yeah, Ace, I do.”

  “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. Everything is going to be okay.”

  She smiles.

  Then I shoot her.

  Right through the heart. Exactly as promised.

  My aim is as true as ever. Katie’s eyes widen. Then she blinks, looking down as the arrow slides through her body like a ghost through a wall. It fades into smoke on the other side until the arrow solidifies once again and thunks into the gravel.

  This is what I did to Daphne, all those years ago. I did it for no more reason than to piss Lo off, confident in my certainty that she loved him more than life and that he cared no more for her than the rest of his lovers. I was a fool.

  Gold arrows to induce love, lead arrows to take it away.

  And how do you take it away? Erase all memory. But there’s a catch.

  If the person shot with the arrow has loved truly and completely, it will have no effect. I know I love Katie. I’ve known it since the morning I woke up in her apartment with her alarm shrieking in my ears. The question is whether she loves me or not. And that, I just don’t know.

  But I have hope.

  “Hey,” I say, lowering the bow to my side. “How you doing, sweetheart?”

  She turns back to me a little too fast and stumbles. Those brilliant eyes are a little unfocused and a lot confused.

  “What?” she asks, looking at Artie and Mom and Lo, like she’s not quite sure who I’m talking to.

  Easy, I tell myself, just take it easy. It’s not every day someone gets shot with a magic arrow. “I said, how you doing, Pearl baby?”

  She cocks her head, eyes narrowing as she takes me in. Then she smiles hesitantly, making my whole world light up. But her next words suck it all away again.

  “You’re pretty cute, but let’s save the sappy nicknames until we know each other better.”

  “Know each other better?” I force a laugh, but my heart is starting to tighten in my chest. No. I drop the bow in the dusty grass and take a step toward her. Fuck taking it easy. “Katie, it’s me, Cue. I love you. Remember how much that pisses you off?”

  “Whoa there, cowboy.” She backs away, amusement flicking instantly to alarm. “This is a little sudden. I’ve never seen you before in my life. Little help here, people?” she says, giving Artie and Mom a desperate look.

  Mom just stands there, shaking her head with a sigh. But next to Artie, Lo is grinning from ear to ear, his eyes a bright and vicious gold as the sun slips away and shadows surround us.

  “It’s okay,” Artie says even as she steps between Katie and me, shooting me a sad, apologetic look over one shoulder. “My brother’s a little crazy, but he won’t hurt you.”

  “You sure about that?” Katie asks as Artie helps her back inside.

  My eyes find Lo again. I feel so empty and hollow, almost as if I am turning to ash, even though I fulfilled my vow. His smile dims as our gazes meet and hold.

  “Are you satisfied now?” I whisper.

  “What do you think?”

  Then he’s gone. I look back at the closing door and feel Mom’s hand close on my shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Cue,” she whispers.

  But my brother is right. Sorry doesn’t touch this pain at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Some people go crazy when they lose the person they love. Lose their will to live. I did both. For a while.

  I also thought maybe I would leave Vegas. But in the end, I couldn’t. She’s here, and as long as that’s true, I can’t go. Not that I’ve seen Katie since that day. Haven’t run into her once. The Fates are funny that way.

  Of course, I steer clear of her apartment—and the bar, even though she doesn’t work there anymore. I swear, just the sight of that stupid neon sign would break my heart.

  If it weren’t already broken.

  The Fates tried to warn me. I get that now. Pandora’s fucking Box. I opened it and got exactly what I deserved. Even Mercury and Heph were trying to let me know something was coming. But I didn’t listen.

  And here I am.

  I got a shop now. We specialize in bowhunting, of course. Also got a range out back. We do some classes, all ages, from the little ones on up to senior discounts and all. Right on the outskirts of the city, just before Valley of Fire State Park.

  My place is called Q’s Shot in the Dark.

  Katie was right. You need to do something with your life. Even if it’s just to keep from thinking too much. Carter helps me out a bit. Hell, he practically started living out here over the summer. I don’t mind. For a smart-ass brat, he’s good company, the only company I have these days. I think Mercury is afraid to face me, though I don’t blame him. I put the blame where it belongs, on me. Katie taught me nothing if not responsibility.

  The bells ring.

  I turn my head as Carter heads for the door. I got him trained to greet people as soon as they walk in, see if they need anything, then back off and let them explore. He’s getting good at setting people at ease, losing some of those sharp edges. I smile at his eagerness before turning back to my sketch, a plan for a new recurve bow. It turns out old-fashioned and handmade is in. I’ve only been at it a few months, but the demand for my work is rising already. I lift my pencil to make an adjustment when something fluttering catches my eye, pulls it toward Carter and the customer he’s greeting. Golden hair tinged with rose moves in the breeze off the desert. A soft, familiar giggle. It can’t be.

  But it is.

  I step over, silently lifting Carter out of the way and pushing him toward the counter. He blinks, then catches my expression and backs off without a word. One thing the kid is not is slow on the uptake.

  “Can I help you?” I force the words out, but every one sticks in my throat. She looks so beautiful. So fucking perfect. It slices through me, stealing my air.

  Then Katie smiles, twisting the knife a little deeper. “I’m not sure. Are you the owner? Q?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Oh good.” She reaches for my arm, just a quick brush of fingertips over skin. “This is going to sound a bit—”

  But all of a sudden, I can’t deal. It’s too much. Listening to her, that casual, unknowing touch that makes me ache to yank her close. “If you’ll excuse me, I just remembered I have a lesson,” I lie. Lifting a hand, I start to wave Carter back over. “Carter can answer any—”

  “Wait a minute.” Her hand tightens. My muscles jump. For the first time, I notice that her eyes, those beautiful, maddening eyes, are unfocused and hazy. Like the last time I saw them. She sways, letting go of my arm, then stares at her own fingers as if in shock. “Your name isn’t Q,” she says slowly, wonderingly. “Not like the sign outside. It’s Cue. C-U-E. As in Cupid. And you shot me.” Her eyes lift to mine. “With a bow and arrow.”

  This time when she sways, I grab her before she can go over. Her hand slaps into my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she wraps her fingers in my shirt and pulls me even closer.

  “I think I’m losing my mind,” she whispers, her gaze going sharp. “Or finding it.”

  I swallow hard, unable to speak, my heart racing under those fingers clutched in my shirt. I can’t move.

  “You shot me,” she says again. This time she sounds pissed.

  “I did,” I admit.

  “You son of a bitch,” she breathes. “Why? Why would you do that, Cue?”

  “I had to.” I grit my teeth and look over her head into the desert. Anywhere but those damn eyes. They may know me again, but they don’t feel what I do. They never did. “I made a vow and I had to keep it. I had no choice.”

  She snorts. “Is that so? Well, you could have warned me first.” She rubs at her collarbone absently, making me wince. None of my arrows can cause physical injury, but they certainly d
o their own form of damage.

  “I tried to,” I mutter.

  “Should have tried harder.”

  “You thought I was nuts.” I want to pull away, but I can’t. “What else was I supposed to say? Oh, besides being a god and having a psychopath for a brother, I need you to hold still while I shoot this magic arrow at your heart?”

  She blinks. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

  Suddenly angry and impatient, I grab both her arms, lifting her off her toes. “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

  “I’m pretty sure the first answer is because I love you, you idiot.” Her voice is soft, but crystal clear. “As for the second—”

  “You don’t love me.” I cut her off, but it’s too late. Her words are like a knife between my ribs, a cold, sharp one that keeps my lungs from working right. I’ve dreamed of hearing those words, of seeing this look on her face. My hands tighten, because I want nothing more in this world than to believe that it’s real. To accept what she’s saying as truth. But it’s not. It can’t be.

  “You don’t love me.” I force myself to repeat the words before setting her to one side. “If you did, that arrow wouldn’t have done anything.”

  “Actually, the arrow didn’t. It was what the arrow was laced with that did the trick.”

  Both Katie and I turn to see my sister in the doorway. She has a fierce expression and a dark blue bottle laced with gold clutched tightly in one hand. “I finally got Lo to confess. He laced the arrow with ambrosia.”

  Ambrosia. Insurance. So that if Katie did love me, he’d still win. I close my eyes. And when Katie grabs me again, I don’t resist, because now I’m the one swaying. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Well, he hates you, Cue.” I open my eyes in time to see Artie’s shrug. She’s right. Apollo does hate me, and having gone through what I have, I can’t really blame him.

  I also can’t look at Katie. Not yet. “So, how does she remember me now?”

  “She is right here.” Katie pokes me in the chest, but I ignore her, breathing too fast, still looking at my sister. Artie is staring at Katie with a frown.

  “I’m not really sure. But the amnesiac effects of ambrosia have been known to fade over time.” She sighs, looking at the bottle in her hand and giving it a shake. “Or with proximity to the familiar. Who knows? If you had kept trying to see her every day, it might have been negated that first week.”

  Her words are like a punch to the gut. Katie’s fingers tighten in my shirt, helping me stay upright, but I still can’t look at her. “And if I had left Vegas . . . if she’d never seen me again?”

  “It likely would have been permanent,” Artie says grimly. “And probably exactly what Lo was going for.”

  “I bet it was,” I mutter under my breath.

  Artie frowns again. “We can deal with Lo later. Why did you come here today?” The question is addressed to Katie, who rolls her eyes.

  “Oh, the mortal gets to talk now?”

  Artie opens her mouth, but I shake my head quickly. I’m not sure of much at the moment, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to explain to Katie right now that contact with ambrosia, no matter the method, means she’s not strictly mortal anymore. Besides, I need to hear what Katie has to say. My sister frowns again but presses her lips together and nods.

  Katie lifts her head, looking up at me. “It’s all a little fuzzy but a big guy brought me here, on his bike. A stranger. Kind of a scary one.”

  She’s hesitating now, confused as she considers her own actions. Her eyes were unfocused when she first got here too. Hazy, like she looked right after I shot her, a mortal touched by magic. My guts tighten, but I force myself to remain calm.

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He pulled up to the pharmacy earlier today while I was outside on my break. He had this tattoo on his arm, of a bow and arrow. I couldn’t stop looking at it . . .” She shakes her head, her cheeks pink. “It was like it pulled me in, and before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him, staring. Then he asked me if I was interested in archery.” She blinks up at me. “I said, ‘Apparently I am.’ He said that was funny because he knew someone who was amazing at it and if I liked he could take me to them.” She shrugs, then glances at Artie. “Next thing I knew, we were pulling up in front of this place.”

  “And then what?”

  At my question, her gaze comes back to me. Softens and warms in a way that makes my breath come short. “Then I saw you and everything started to click. It was like I’d been half asleep for months and somebody finally shook me awake.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment, neither saying a word.

  “What did the bow look like?” Artie finally breaks the silence. “In this guy’s tattoo?”

  “It was the one you shot me with,” Katie answers with her gaze steady on mine. “I’m sure of it, big and curved, with that swoopy thing at the top that looks like a wing.”

  I frown. The nock on my bow, both top and bottom, is indeed carved in the shape of feathered wings. Probably why a lot of the mythos surrounding me includes flying, a power I don’t have. “What did this guy look like again?”

  “Well, like I said, he was huge. Even bigger than you, but there was something wrong with his face.” She represses a shiver. “It was metallic and shiny on one side, almost like a liquid mask, except the shiny stuff went down the side of his neck, too, and under his shirt. I think it maybe even covered one of his arms.”

  I lift my head and stare at my sister.

  Hephaestus.

  But why? Why leave his forge, work some enchantment on Katie and take her to see me?

  “Did he say anything to you when he dropped you off? About who he was taking you to?”

  Her nose wrinkles in concentration. “I told you, it’s all really hazy. I can’t quite re . . .” All of a sudden, the color drains out of Katie’s face and her eyes go wide. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her, but she remains taut as a bowstring. “No, he didn’t mention you by name, but he did say . . . he did say . . .”

  “What, Pearl?”

  Katie’s voice is faint. “He said this was his son’s shop.”

  I blink down at her, sure I’ve heard wrong. Because Hephaestus doesn’t have a son.

  Artie is looking at me, her eyes wide.

  Katie continues in a hushed whisper as she clings to my shirt. “I told him it was a nice place and he must be really proud. He laughed and said he sure was. Real damn proud. But he looked sad when he said it. Then he got back on his bike and took off.”

  I stumble backward, breaking Katie’s grip. Both she and Artie take a step toward me, but I hold up a hand. “Wait. Just . . . fucking wait a damn minute.”

  I can’t stay in here, I need to get outside. I need some air.

  I need some answers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It wasn’t his fault, Cue.” A long while later, I look up to see my mother walking toward me, the desert moonlight like gauze around her shoulders. She’s not in her modern clothes today. Her hair is down and she’s wearing a simple white gown banded in gold. The Aphrodite of a hundred paintings. “Hephaestus.”

  “Wasn’t it?” Three thousand years and more. And he never claimed me. Never gave me a hint of what I was to him. Or did he? I think about all the hours I spent at Heph’s compound. He never once shooed me away, though I know he had little patience for anyone else. Even his own brothers were seldom welcome at his forge, but I always was.

  “No. It was mine.”

  Mom’s words take a while to sink in and when they do, something twists inside of me. “Were you ashamed of him?” And would I have been, had he claimed me? I want very badly to say no, but I think of the youth I was, the youth that thought it was funny to shoot my brother’s lover, and I don’t know.

  I just don’t know.

  She pales, pressing her lips together tightly, and even though she doesn’t answer, I know I’ve hit a mark. My chest aches and I
realize the pain I’m feeling is for Heph.

  I rub at it, looking up at Mom and seeing a stranger. We never know our parents, not really, but knowing that she’s been concealing a love affair with a man many consider nothing more than a demon . . . “And me? Were you ashamed of me?”

  Her look is stricken, but when she reaches for me I pull back. Her hand falls away, trembling. “No, Cupid. Never that. I was ashamed of what I’d done. And yes, who I’d done it with.” Her sigh is deep and unhappy. “And I was so confused. About everything. You have to understand, I was different back then. Vain.”

  She sees my look and sighs.

  “More vain. Tempestuous.” She shakes her head, the silken waves shimmering like gold dust in the night as her words fade to a whisper. “I was a fool.”

  She doesn’t elaborate and I don’t ask her to. I just want to know. “Didn’t he want me?”

  “Oh, Cue.” She doesn’t try to touch me this time, but her hand twitches before going still at her side. “He wanted you. When he first saw you . . .” Her voice trails off and for a moment tears glisten in those deep blue eyes, but her lips curve. “He couldn’t believe we’d made something so perfect together. You were tiny, you fit right in the palm of his hand. But he was so careful, like you were made of spun glass. He kept counting your toes, your fingers.”

  Her eyes close and she wraps an arm around her middle as the air stirs again, wafting the smell of sage over us.

  “I’ve never seen a man fall in love so quickly and completely.”

  “So why didn’t he claim me?”

  “I begged him not to.”

  “Why the hell not? You and Ares were over by then. He knew you’d betrayed him.”

  The words make her flinch, but she lifts her chin. “Yes, but he didn’t know his brother had as well. It would have meant war, Cue. It still could.” She gives me a pleading look. “I made Hephaestus swear never to tell you. Never to tell a soul from Olympus that you were his.”

  I stare at her, and for a split second I want to throttle her. My own mother. But unfortunately, I know all too well how easy it is to make a mistake whose effects spiral out of your control. “You mean Ares still doesn’t know?”