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Stealing Cupid's Bow

Page 8

by Jewel Quinlan


  Is that what he thought? How embarrassing. “No, that’s not why.” She paused. “If there is even the slightest chance that what you say is true, I want to see if he can help my parents.” Helping her cousin was in her thoughts as well but she kept it to herself. She didn’t want to seem pushy.

  “What’s going on with your parents?”

  “They’re separating. And after that always comes divorce.” A bubble of misery welled up in her chest and she swallowed it back down. “I just can’t believe it. They still love each other; I know they do. They belong together. I can’t just let their marriage and the only home I’ve known, the home we’ve built together, fall apart.” She took a breath. “So you’re not joking with me, right? Because if you are I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  Before he could speak she continued on. “Because I just don’t think I could take that right now. After what happened to me…. And now they are having trouble. I’ve just got to find a way to help them.”

  He lifted her hand and rubbed it between his. The electricity of it almost made her lose her train of thought. His blue eyes were serious.

  “No, it’s no joke. Don’t worry. I promise you will meet him. Tonight.”

  “Really? Wow, thanks.” She took a deep breath, skepticism still nagging at her. “So what is he like?”

  He shrugged. “He’s just like a regular guy, like a regular boss. Who even knows if he’ll help you? Like you said on the plane, he’s lazy.” The side of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

  “Oh my gosh.” She gasped. “Did he hear me say that? Can gods hear when people talk about them?”

  He laughed at her concern. “He can, but I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s very easygoing. If he did hear, he probably didn’t even care.”

  He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand causing a million sparks of sensation to travel up her arm.

  “Is he here in the hotel? Or can he, I don’t know blink in and out when he wants to?”

  Alexander laughed. “Yes, he’s here. He’s busy, being a god and all, but I’m sure he can squeeze you into his schedule. But never mind him, I was hoping you were enjoying my company.”

  “I am. You are the best company I’ve ever had,” she said. It was the truth. Spending an eternity with him would be no hardship. It would be like winning the soul-mate lottery. However, that wasn’t a road she was likely to go down considering how Alexander felt about love. She had to focus, her parents needed help. She couldn’t let them separate. “But, I really need his help.”

  She reached out her other hand to clasp his as well.

  He nodded and brought her hand to his lips kissing it gently. “Tonight,” he said.

  Tingles exploded from the touch of his firm lips. If that’s what it felt like there, what if he were to kiss the inside of her thighs? The thought was mesmerizing.

  He signaled the waiter for the bill. “Well then, let’s take you to meet him. But come, let me show you my apartment first. I want to make sure I cover all my promises. That’s a better place for us to talk and I can have him meet us there.”

  After paying, Alexander took her up to the twenty-third floor where he showed her the elegant Prestige lounge with its magnificent view. Again everyone greeted him with a cheerful wave or smile and eyed her curiously.

  He led her through a very plain door next to the reception desk, which led down a short hallway to an ornate door that he opened with a key. Beyond was a sumptuous living room with a wall of windows that overlooked the Strip. His living room was serene and masculine at the same time. From the number of paintings on the walls and sculptures scattered throughout, he was obviously a collector of art. She could have sworn, from the little she recalled of her college art history class, that some of the paintings were the work of Rembrandt.

  In nooks and on shelves were graceful sculptures in different mediums that looked as though they were the work of masters as well. There was a wide variety of books too, ranging from older leather tomes with delicate lettering, to modern paperbacks. Hundreds of them were lined in a large mahogany bookshelf stretching against one wall and there were also stacks of them here and there. And, on the dark, wooden coffee table lay a Kindle and an iPad. The man obviously liked to read.

  The view from the windows was spectacular. Every light twinkled in the clear night, and far below the streets bustled with the light of traffic on the Strip. The cozy living room was like a window to the world. He stood behind her as she looked out and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, starting a slow fire in her belly once more.

  He pointed to some construction. “There’s a new hotel going up right there. Isn’t it amazing how they keep building? Every time I come back from a business trip it seems that something new has sprung up.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  He took her hand. “Let me show you the rest of my place.”

  Past the living room were the kitchen and dining room. Both were spacious and luxurious. The kitchen contained top-notch appliances and the dining room held a large oval table with ten chairs parked around it. She guessed from the size of the rooms that he entertained often.

  Then he led her to stairs, the entrance to which was cleverly hidden by the way the walls were arranged. Upstairs he had an office, a billiards room and, finally, the master bedroom complete with a giant bed, cozy sitting area, and fireplace.

  “This place is amazing, Alexander,” she said as they went back downstairs. She felt like she was seeing something secret about the Strip. “I’m really glad I came.” She took a seat on the couch and he sat next to her, close enough that his thigh touched hers.

  “So, when are we going to meet him? Cupid, I mean.” she asked, hating how pushy it sounded. But she needed the truth before anything else happened between them. She wasn’t about to be a dumb girl who was scammed.

  He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for a moment before saying, “You’ve already met him.”

  She sat silently for a moment. “What?”

  “I’m Cupid,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “Come on, Alexander, I’m serious,” she said.

  “You don’t believe me?” He took her hand again and rubbed it between his. It felt very, very good. “Why not?”

  She pulled her hand away and stood. “You are not Cupid.” The man had flown in coach for crying out loud!

  “I am.” He hooked one elbow on the back of the couch.

  Disappointment streaked through her. “No you’re not.” She started for the door. He was obviously just trying to work her and she was not in the mood for games.

  He appeared in front of her, blocking her path. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  A small spike of fear rose at the back of her neck but he made no move toward her. Narrowing her eyes, she made a disbelieving noise in her throat. What a lousy end to a great evening. She had been starting to like him. “You know what? I’ve been through enough lately. I don’t need someone to screw around with my head.”

  “Raine, that’s not what I’m doing.”

  She gave him a skeptical look.

  “Okay, before you leave, may I ask why you don’t believe me?”

  She sighed. “Look, you’re handsome and all that but you’re not…I don’t know…godlike,” she stammered.

  “I’m not godlike?” He eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that, or complimented by how well I pose as a mortal.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “But it is true. It’s me. Sit back down, and let’s talk about it,” he insisted, leading her back to the couch.

  Ha! Fine, if he wanted to play this game, she could, too. She decided to put him on the hot seat. “So which is your real name? I’ve heard the names Cupid and Eros and I think there are more.” Did the Romans or the Greeks have it correct?

  “I am known by many names. In Latin they call me Amor. The Romans called me Cupid, the Greeks, Eros. Now I am just a fragment of memory when people thi
nk of love. There have been other names but those are the most well-known.”

  Her curiosity piqued. “And now Alexander? Why Alexander?”

  He shrugged. “I picked it myself. All those other names people made up for me long ago. I wanted something of my choosing for this time period. Cupid is how I am thought of most often by the people of now but it doesn’t work in day-to-day business.”

  “But then, which is the real one? Didn’t your mother pick one out for you when you were born?” she challenged him.

  The look in his eyes became thoughtful.

  “What?” she said.

  “You know, no one has ever asked me questions like this before.”

  “Not even your men?” She was surprised. “Do they know who you are? Or, who you say you are?” How could they not ask?

  “Yes, they know who I am. And, no, none of them have ever asked me.”

  “How is that possible? I have a million burning questions.”

  He smiled. “And I would love to hear them all.”

  “Tell me about your name.”

  “Ever since I can remember, we’ve gone by the names of the time. We are all easygoing about names. They come and go,” he said. “I would actually have to ask my mother if she did pick out a name for me and what it was.”

  “But then, why would you live here, on earth? Don’t the gods live on…you know, Mount Olympus?”

  “Las Vegas has been ideal for me. The high staff turnover at the hotel is convenient. No one ever notices my lack of aging.”

  She blinked. That part somehow had slipped her mind. She wondered how old he actually was, if what he was saying was true.

  “I lived on Mount Olympus for a long time. But after the divorce, it was uncomfortable to stay. The gods don’t believe in divorce, Hera especially.”

  “Divorce?” She remembered him saying that before.

  “From Psyche. You know who she is, correct?”

  Raine did know. They’d been in several paintings and sculptures she’d seen in class at college. Psyche had been the beautiful human daughter of a human king. She was so beautiful that people came to worship her from far and wide, causing them to neglect the goddess Venus who became jealous of her. Venus ordered Cupid to cause her to fall in love with a monster as revenge but he ended up nicking himself with his arrow and falling in love with her. Apparently Psyche had gone through severe trials from Cupid’s mother in order to earn the right to become his immortal wife.

  “You divorced Psyche?” Raine’s brows lifted.

  “Yeah, first ever in the history of the gods. It wasn’t received well.”

  “But why? I thought you guys lived…happily ever after.”

  “We were, for a while,” he said. “We even had a daughter. But things changed.”

  How sad that they were separated now and everyone thought of them as the exemplification of true love. It was so strange that her rusty education of ancient mythology and its seeming end would connect here in the present over such a long void of time.

  The memory of him pointing a bow and arrow at the couple in the hotel pushed its way forward in her mind. “So you really did make two people fall in love today?” Why had she seen him when no one else had? “And what about the woman in the hotel?”

  “I’m still amazed that you saw me. That hasn’t happened in a very long time.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “When I’m using them, the bow and arrows cast a glamour over me so people don’t see me at work. When they’re slung they cast a glamour so that I am seen but they are not.”

  “But if you disappear into thin air, don’t people notice that?”

  “The glamour has a repellent quality. It distracts the attention of people, and their movement, away from it.

  She was taken aback. “No wonder nobody reacted. It all makes sense now. Then why did I see you?”

  “The only mortals who have ever been able to see past the glamour are gifted artists. Apparently their minds can detect dimensions others can’t.”

  He gestured to a small oil painting on the wall in a gold frame. It was a depiction of a couple in a garden. Above the treetops flew a small baby with wings, his bow and arrow pointed at them, and an angelic smile on his face.

  “Especially as a young god, there were a lot of artists who caught glimpses of me at work. No one would believe them when they spoke of me, they were considered crazy. And after belief in the gods died away, they were given even less credibility. The many paintings through the years are, basically, snapshots of me through history, as I have been glimpsed by an artist. Some of them are family portraits commissioned by my mother. She always did love art. Of course, there are some that are pure fantasies. It’s been a long time since such an artist has been born to the earth.”

  “But I’m not an artist.” She’d never even drawn. Her days were spent now as an administrator in human resources. It wasn’t a job where creativity was remotely needed.

  He smiled smugly. “Well, maybe right now you aren’t. But the gift lies within you.” He tapped his finger lightly on her nose.

  “How come I couldn’t see your bow when you were wearing it?”

  “That I’m not sure of,” he said. “It’s possible that you need the connection of power between the bow and the archer when it’s in use. It would be interesting to study what makes mortals like you different from the others. It would definitely explain why you haven’t seen all the trainees walking around with equipment. There are dozens of them.”

  “Can you see each other when you are wearing and using them?” she asked.

  “Yes, the archers can. And I can see them but they can’t see me. I am shielded from being seen by everyone. I wasn’t able to replicate that in their bows. It’s specific to mine. Even other gods weren’t able to see me. But it comes in useful when I want to check on a trainee on assignment without them knowing.”

  “This is so crazy.” It felt good to talk about it, though. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I can’t believe we are sitting here having this conversation. But you tell a good story. What other proof do you have?” She was teetering on the border of disbelief and had an odd urge to laugh.

  “Ah, that’s right. I forgot that you think I’m not godlike,” he teased. “Hm.” He tapped his fingers on his leg as he thought. “So, let’s see…godlike. What could I do that would make you believe me?” Slouching lower on the couch, he stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, looking very much like he was enjoying himself.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, “What can gods do? I know! Maybe…can you turn my wine into water?” She lifted the glass in her hand.

  He groaned. “No, no. That is so cheesy. Besides, I’ve even seen Criss Angel do that trick, so I doubt that would be convincing.”

  “Well, does each god have their own gifts or are you all…you know, omnipotent?” She hoped she was using the right word.

  He cocked his head at her. “You weren’t joking; you do have a million questions.”

  Who wouldn’t?

  “Let’s see…we have a number of powers, enough that mortals would call us omnipotent, but we each have our own unique gifts as well.”

  “Like what? Can you read my mind?”

  He laughed. “No. But that would come in handy.”

  “Can you see through my clothes?”

  “What is this? Superman?”

  “Oh wait, I know!” She slapped her hand on her lap as she remembered. “Cupid has wings. Aren’t you supposed to have wings? Maybe you could just show them to me.” There was no way he could get out of this one.

  He snapped his fingers back at her in response. “Done.”

  “Really?” She lifted a skeptical brow. There were clearly no wings on his back right now. Even though he might be toying with her, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that she hadn’t felt this good in a long time. She was content just sitting next to him on the couch, even if the conversation was a little crazy. But if
it was somehow true…were people allowed to make demands of gods? Was a mere mortal allowed to demand proof of godliness? Should she be allowing a god to rub her hands in the sinful way that he was doing? She decided she didn’t care.

  “Sure, I’ll show them to you. But let’s talk about your parents first. That’s what you needed help with wasn’t it?”

  “Yes it is. They’re planning to separate as I told you before.”

  “But they haven’t yet.”

  “No,” she said. Where was he going with this?

  “Married people fight all the time and say things they don’t mean. What makes you think they’re serious?”

  She thought for a minute. “Well, first of all, my mother told me that they were serious. And secondly I’ve never seen them this way before. In fact, they were yelling at each other when I left the house. I could tell it’s serious by what they were saying and how they were saying it.”

  “Maybe you should wait, and see what happens.”

  She shook her head. “No, absolutely not. Separation never leads to anything good.”

  “Did you ever consider that maybe separating would be the best thing for your parents?”

  She groaned inside. Not this conversation again. “No. I can’t let it happen. It was true love that brought them together. I know my parents; I grew up watching them. They would be miserable apart. Can’t you do something to help them?” She was still on the fence with regards to believing he was a god but said it anyway. How could he be so jaded?

  “The shooting of an arrow is a very serious matter.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “Does that mean you won’t even try?”

  “If I thought it would help, I would. I’m not convinced that it will.”

  Frustration rose up inside her. Why did it have to be him? If it was him, anyway. He was so stubborn on this topic.

  “But you’re a god. The god of love,” she said. “You have the power to make it happen. Who else could help them but you? This is your area isn’t it?” she argued. Could it really be such a big deal? Didn’t he do this sort of thing for his clients all the time?

  “It is my area and I’m telling you, Raine, even if I were to help, it wouldn’t last anyway. You’d just be putting off the inevitable.” His tone told her that his mind was made up.

 

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