Crazy Cupid Love

by Amanda Heger

  “Why?”

  “You don’t remember?” her mother asked. “The library? Agent Oliver?”

  The memories crashed over her. The Scroll. The bow. Jake yelling at her to run. It was like she’d been sliced open with the sai all over again. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

  Her dad laid a hand on her forearm. “Honey, you have to stay calm. The doctor said—”

  “Where is he?”

  The curtain beside her bed flew open. There, making a hospital gown look like something straight from the pages of GQ, lay Jake. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, groggy with sleep. His other arm was in a cast. “You didn’t think I was going to let you off that easily, did you, Herman?” he murmured.

  She sat straight up and tried to push her way out of the bed, but the tubes and wires that connected her to a host of machines held her back.

  “Hold on, Liza. You don’t want to rip out your IV.” Her dad guided her gently back to the bed. “Dr. Branderson said you could get up and move around in a little while. They have to switch out some of the equipment first.”

  She’d been thrown back right where she’d started: desperate to touch Jake but unable to leave the safe zone.

  “I’ll come to you.” Jake pushed the curtain aside the rest of the way and struggled to his feet, smiling at Eliza the entire time. Halfway across the room, his smile fell and he swiped his good hand behind his back. “Uh, nobody look at my ass.”

  “No promises,” Eliza said.

  Her family groaned.

  But she didn’t care, because soon Jake had wheeled his IV pole over and sat on the edge of her bed. His position gave her the perfect view of his broad back and just a hint of the top of the aforementioned ass.

  Her heart monitor beeped a little faster. “Why did the doctor say I’d been camping?”

  “The Department has asked us to keep things quiet for now. The Cosmic Council agrees,” her mother said.

  “They aren’t going to be able to keep it quiet for long,” Elijah said. “Now that Charlie Jenkins put it up online.”

  “Charlie Jenkins?” Eliza asked.

  “The weapons rental clerk,” her mother replied. “Apparently, he recorded portions of your heroics and posted them to social media. The Council is working on taking the posts down now. He’s sent you some get-well flowers.” She gestured to the window where five floral arrangements soaked up the early-morning sun.

  “Which ones?”

  Elijah smirked. “All of them. You really got him good.” He pulled out his phone, swiped a few times across the screen, then held it out to her. “Watch.”

  Eliza pressed Play on the video. The shaky footage showed a bloodied, battered Eliza with the bow and arrow aimed at Oliver. Her arm trembled as she yanked it back and let the arrow go with a battle cry that could have rivaled any Amazon. She collapsed at the same moment the arrow pierced Oliver in the gut. Across the room, he fell to the floor in a heap of shouts and blood and Love Luster.

  On the screen, Jake shoved the Scroll into his pocket and scooped Eliza up with his good arm. Then he was sprinting to the upper levels of the Agora with Charlie Jenkins at his heels. Who, of course, narrated the entire encounter.

  “We’re headed to the library,” Charlie panted. “Everything is falling down around us. I don’t know if we’re going to make it out of here. Please make sure my mom sees this. And make sure someone feeds—Ooof.” Thunk.

  The screen went black.

  “What happened? Is he okay?” Eliza asked.

  “He’s fine. He tripped over something and dropped his phone.” Jake shrugged.

  “But the Agora?” Her rib cage tightened with anxiety. Obviously, they’d made it out, but what about everyone else? Was there anything left of the building?

  Her father gave Jake a proud nod. “Jake returned the Scroll before the building entirely collapsed. It’s very damaged but salvageable.”

  “And Oliver? Is he…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  “He’s alive and in for a long stay at the Tartus Correctional Facility,” her father said. “He admitted everything. That he’d slowly picked off all the Cupid businesses in town. That he used his position with the Department to further his goals. That he bribed a techno-Cupid company to create that anti-enchantment game. That he sowed discord in all your enchantments.”

  She glanced at Jake. He nodded in confirmation. “You saved us all, Eliza.”

  Holy Hades. She’d done it. They’d done it. Together.

  “Liza.” Her father’s voice was solemn and somber. “More than anything, we’re so happy that you’re okay. If we’d lost you…” His voice cracked and faded as tears shone in his eyes.

  “If we’d lost you, we’d be lost,” her mother finished, brushing a strand of Eliza’s hair from her forehead. “But we are so very proud of you. I know I don’t tell you—any of you—enough, but I am so amazed every single day by how kind and brave and intelligent my children are. Both of my children.”

  Eliza felt the sting of tears gathering in her own eyes. “Mom, you don’t have to—”

  Her mother held up a hand. “I’ve been so focused on the business for all these years because I wanted to build Herman & Herman into something worthy of you both. I wanted to leave you two something special. And in the process, I lost sight of telling you, and showing you, how special you are. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for not believing you about Egg Salad Saga. We should have listened to you, Eliza.”

  The tears spilled onto Eliza’s cheeks. She’s proud of me. And she’s sorry. Those were exactly the words Eliza needed to hear. And her mother was exactly the person she needed to hear them from. Eliza wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and pulled her in close. She smelled like comfort and flowers and home. How long had it been since Eliza had stopped to embrace her mother? Too long.

  “I’m sorry too, Mom. About everything. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help you save Herman & Herman from the deficiency.”

  “Oh, honey.” Her mother kissed her forehead. “The Department waived the deficiency in gratitude for your actions.”

  Her father chuffed. “I think they just don’t want us to sue.”

  “Either way, Herman & Herman is going to be just fine.” Her mom patted Eliza’s knee as she stood. “Because of you. Come on, you two,” she said. “Let’s leave Eliza and Jake to get some rest.”

  “Wait.” Eliza pulled her mother’s hand. “What about my clients? All the ones Oliver interfered with?” She thought of poor Lily and Mitch. Yolanda and her crazed, mixed-up feelings about Eddie. Even Helen and Jacque.

  “The techno-Cupids involved have shut down Egg Salad Saga and instituted a nationwide recall. Soon, everyone who played it will be back to normal. All that’s left is to reverse the discord Oliver sowed with your clients. It can be done with reenchantment, if the same weapon is used a second time. We’ve made calls.” Her father pulled out his phone. “Yolanda Durst declined reenchantment, so we didn’t contact Mr. Pearson. We left a message for Helen Rothchild, and”—he clucked his tongue—“the Johansens were interested, but they haven’t been able to find the weapon. Mrs. Johansen said it was—”

  “A wooden spoon! It’s under their love seat in the living room.”

  Her parents looked at each other, then at Elijah. “Let’s go,” her mom said. “I’ll call Lily and let her know we found it.”

  “Wait.” Eliza tugged her mother’s hand one last time. She took in the lines on her father’s face, the gray hairs along her mother’s part, the patchy beard growing along her brother’s jaw. It had been a rough few weeks. They all looked a little worse for wear, and if Eliza had to guess, they all felt a lot worse for it. But somehow, some way, her family was stronger than ever. And she’d never felt more like she belonged to them. “I love you guys.”

  “We love you too,” her parents sa
id.

  Even Elijah chimed in with a ditto.

  When they’d gone, Jake laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “I told you the world needs you.”

  Eliza rested her head on his uninjured shoulder. She wasn’t so sure the world needed her, but she did know one thing for certain: she needed him. “Jake, earlier, at your apartment… I mean, after Vic said those things…”

  Gods, why was this so hard. It was like that version of her—the angry, terrorizing version that had felt so many conflicting things—had been a bad dream.

  “About that,” he said. “Hold on.”

  She watched as he hobbled over to his bed and grabbed his phone from the tray. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s someone who made me promise to have you call her as soon as you woke up. And trust me, she is not someone you want to cross.”

  Two minutes later, Eliza was on the phone with Mrs. Washmoore. “I should never have done it,” the Fury said for the third time. “It’s not an excuse, but Jake is the rising star in our family. I didn’t want to see him throw it all away. So I intensified your anger a little, hoping it would lead the two of you to break up. And that day at the library, I knew he was there and moping about your breakup, so I pretended your card wouldn’t work. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Eliza took a long moment to let the confession sink in. Mrs. Washmoore had hit her with a good old-fashioned Fury charm: the whammy. Instead of physically torturing Eliza, she’d taken the mental route. Mrs. Washmoore had used her powers to fan the flames of Eliza’s deepest fears and insecurities until she was a rageful, irrational mess.

  And she’d almost lost the love of her life because of it.

  But at the end of the day, Eliza was far too exhausted to hold a grudge. Plus, maybe all that anger had come in handy when she’d had to face down Oliver. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Of course. Now that I know what happened, I see how wrong I was about you. Jake is lucky to have such a lovely Cupid by his side.”

  Eliza stole a glance at Jake. She intended to be by his side for as long as he’d let her.

  “And maybe when you’re feeling up to it, you can come by the library and I can show you more about interlibrary loans,” Mrs. Washmoore said. “I think you’ll really enjoy some of the collections from the Northeast.”

  “That would be nice,” Eliza said. “Thank you.”

  “Certainly. And once the whammy wears off, I hope you and Jake will come over for dinner.”

  “Wait. When it wears off?” She looked at Jake again, and a steady stream of emotions flooded her chest. None of them were anything like anger.

  “Yes, probably in about three or four more days. Maybe five if you’re close to your cycle.”

  “I don’t understand. I haven’t been angry at Jake since yesterday afternoon.”

  Silence filled the line. Jake looked at her quizzically.

  “Well, mane of Medusa,” Mrs. Washmoore said. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  What? What is it? Jake mouthed.

  Eliza shrugged, then switched the phone to speaker. “Mrs. Washmoore—”

  “Aunt Rebecca?” Jake added.

  On the other end, Mrs. Washmoore cleared her throat. “A Fury’s fire turns most things it touches to ash. But a fire can also burn away impurities and leave you with solid gold. You two, my dears, seem to be made of the strong stuff.”

  Eliza said goodbye and hung up the phone. She didn’t need Mrs. Washmoore to tell her Jake was something special—that they were something special. She felt it every time he looked at her. Every time he made her laugh. Every time he lit up the darkest, most wounded parts of her and made all her faults seem worthy of celebration.

  “Get over here and kiss me,” she said.

  And thank the gods, he did. His lips caught hers, soft but urgent. Warm but relaxed. It was new and exciting…but also like coming home. “I love you,” she whispered. “Capital-L Love you.”

  “That’s very interesting. Because I also capital-L Love you.” His warm breath grazed her ear, and goose bumps spread along her body. “But before you say anything else, you should know one thing.”

  “What’s that?” she asked. His mock seriousness made her laugh. Gods, she loved how he made her laugh.

  “Ron Weasley died for good. Your car, not the character. Spoiler alert, I guess.”

  “No!” Her poor, not-so-trusty Mustang.

  “He made the ultimate sacrifice for you, Eliza,” Jake said solemnly.

  “You don’t exactly look heartbroken about it,” Eliza said.

  Jake kissed her forehead. “That shade of orange was atrocious.”

  “Don’t speak ill of the dead.”

  “What? He was my biggest rival.”

  Eliza gave him a gentle, playful shove. “Well, from the looks of it, you won’t be driving for a while, so maybe I’ll just borrow your car until I can find a way to get Ron fixed.”

  “Hmmm. I’m not sure he’s fixable, but I was thinking neither of us would be driving for a while.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because we’re both going to need a long recovery period. With lots of bed rest.”

  Eliza grinned. “Interesting.”

  “But we can talk about that later,” he said. “We have something else to discuss at the moment.”

  “We do?”

  The head of the hospital bed slid back. “Such as this.” His lips found her jaw. “And this.” They caressed her neck. “And this.” He captured her mouth again. “It’s going to be a very long discussion.”

  “Sounds like it,” she murmured.

  “Years of discussion.”

  “Decades.”

  Jake smiled down at her. “Lifetimes.”

  Epilogue

  Calif. CCR § 430.04. A rebuttable presumption of love shall be established by the simultaneous presence of at least three of the following: (A) romantic gestures, (B) sleeplessness, (C) impaired rational thought, and/or (D) emotional instability.

  “‘Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, Elijah and Eliza.’” Her father drummed his hands on the table. “‘Happy birthday tooooo youuuuuu.’”

  Thirty candles flickered on the cake, and her brother gave her a pointed look. “I can’t believe we’re still doing this.”

  “You’re never too old to celebrate your birthday,” their mother said. “Now blow out the candles before the wax messes up my beautiful buttercream.”

  “Go ahead,” Eliza said.

  Elijah looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Seriously?”

  She glanced to her left. Jake’s gaze caught hers, and she grinned. “I’m good. I think you need it more this year, Elijah.” In fact, aside from the whole nearly-killed-by-an-A.S.S.-agent thing, this had been the best year of Eliza’s life.

  “Oh gods. Someone alert the authorities. My sister is happy on her birthday. We have a potential body-snatcher situation here.”

  “Just blow,” she said, “before Mom loses it.”

  Elijah leaned forward and extinguished the candles with one hearty breath.

  Immediately, they all relit.

  Jake squeezed Eliza’s hand. A swarm of butterflies flapped their wings in her stomach, sending her into a lovely, twirling tizzy. He planted the smallest kiss on her cheek. That touch was enough to heat her body in lots of exciting places. “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

  “No making out at the table, please,” Elijah said. “It’s bad enough that I have to know you’re boning my sister. I don’t want to see it too.”

  A flush crept up Jake’s neck, but all Eliza did was laugh. “Please. Like you didn’t ‘bone’ half of my friends in high school.”

  “You only had three friends in high school.” Elijah leaned back in his chair.

 
“Yeah, and you slept with two of them,” she said.

  “Better than half then.” He high-fived himself.

  “Okay, that’s enough.” Their mother took the cake away to the counter and began pulling out the candles. “Go outside. Your presents are in the backyard. I’ll be there with the cake in a minute.”

  “The backyard?” Eliza asked.

  “This is it, Liza,” her brother deadpanned, “the year we finally get our ponies.”

  “Just go,” her dad said. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

  With a shrug, Eliza tugged Jake’s hand and slipped out the back door.

  “Surprise!”

  The chorus of voices caught her completely off guard. But they were voices that made her heart happy.

  The Johansens stood with their arms wrapped around each other. Elijah had been able to reenchant them with the wooden spoon, breaking the discord and sending them straight back into marital bliss.

  Helen and Jonathan Ellis sat nearby. Following a successful sea lion pregnancy, Jonathan received a promotion. When he stopped by the office to tell Eliza all about it, Helen happened to be on her way out. Unenchanted sparks flew—followed shortly thereafter by a little requested Love Luster—and the two of them had been inseparable since.

  Then there were Yolanda, Agent Smith, and the mutual light of their now-married lives, Charleston Samuel Durst the Third. With Oliver gone, Agent Smith had been promoted to agent-in-charge of the entire Northern California region. She’d administered Eliza’s new (legitimate) licensing exam—which, of course, she’d passed with flying colors. The next day, Agent Smith stopped by Herman & Herman to hand-deliver her new license. With a new and improved photo, thankyouverymuch.

  “Can we speak in private?” the agent had asked.

  Eliza had escorted the woman into her office—her very own office—and taken a seat behind the desk. Seeing a Department uniform still sent shocks of anxiety through her, but she’d breathed through it and forced a smile. “What can I do for you, Agent Smith?”

  “Ms. Herman, this is quite unorthodox, but…” The agent shifted in her seat uncomfortably.