Chapter 38

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The music blares. I can feel it throbbing through my being and buzzing beneath my skin. Loud, upbeat, swing music that sends people raucously jiving across the sticky floor. It all blurs around me – swirling skirts, and men in suits, and bottles of liquor.

The air is hot and smells like sweat and alcohol. It's filled with mirth. And it's contagious.

I laugh as Valentine twirls me beneath his arm. I stumble into his hard chest, one hand still clasped in his, then pull away and allow him to spin me around again. He is laughing too. It makes him look younger, somehow; his electric blue irises bright, his face relaxed, his broad shoulders softer.

He pulls me back into him, one hand on the small of my back. And we move and turn and spin around with the beat of the music. His eyes don't move from mine, a wide smile on his face.

We dance until my feet hurt, and I'm gasping for breath – hot beneath the tattered leather jacket I still wear. I must look a mess. My hair is tangled. My face covered in a layer of sweat.

But I don't care.

It's strange – considering I'm in the Underworld and surrounded by the dead – but I feel alive. I feel free. The fuzzy thoughts have left my head altogether. All I can focus on in the movement, and the laughter, and the music that vibrates through the air.

By the platform where the band play, the hourglass of glittering sand turns; and behind the bar the clocks move their hands to nonsensical times. I've lost track of time, though. My heart pounds with different rhythm; stamping feet and the beat of the music.

Morpheus and his new blonde guy join us for a bit – Morpheus picking me up and spinning me around round. I throw my head back and laugh – my eyes catching Valentine's as he twirls a woman with long red hair around. He grins at me, giving me a half shrug, as he sends her spinning back to her original partner.

Finally – when my feet are aching and my movements slowly – Valentine takes my hand and gently pulls me through the moving crowd that shows no sign of stopping. I don't resist. A yawn playing at my lips.

He leads me past the bar to the exit, and in silence we make our way up the steep steps back into the main part of Morpheus's castle. I'm sleepy. I don't know if it's that, or the lingering warmth of the alcohol, that makes everything still feel a little fuzzy around the edges as we navigate the corridors.

When we reach the door of the bedroom, we stop. Valentine turns me to face him – his hands lightly resting on my arms. My breathing quickens. He is stood close. Too close. I feel his body heat burning into me. His eyes are fixed on mine, his expression serious.

And still, neither of us speak.

The silence is deafening. And it carries something in it – something that needs to be broken.

He brings a hand to my cheek – the skin of his palm rough and warm. I lower my gaze, breathing fast. I can't meet his eyes. 

He rests his forehead against mine. I can feel his hot breaths on my face. I can smell the warmth of bourbon. And if I tilt my face up, if I look at him, I know he will kiss me.

Something seems to pull and push in the small space between our bodies. His chest moves up and down heavily, and my pulse is racing beneath my skin.

He rubs his thumb against my cheek, tilting his face slightly.

"Don't." The word comes, soft, from my lips.

I close my eyes – trying to shut him out.

I can't do this. This isn't right.

Then -

"OK," he says – his voice a rough whisper.

He doesn't move for a moment.  Then, softly, he brushes his lips against my forehead. He takes a step back - taking away his consuming body heat. I slowly meet his gaze and he gives me a sheepish smile – dimples creasing in his cheeks and a glint in his eyes.

"Goodnight, Lila," he says in his rough, Irish lilt. "I'll be down the corridor if you need me."

Then he turns. I breathe out slowly as I watch him walk down the corridor – disappearing through one of the doors at the end.

I rub my face in my hands.

Oh, God. What is wrong with me?!

***

I wake with a start and jolt upright – sheets tangled around my limbs. I can hear loud noises. Banging. The clatter of weapons. The ground trembles.

I don't know how much time has passed. But I don't feel like I've been asleep for long.

My heart thumps against my ribs as I hurl myself out of the four-poster bed and hurry across the tiled floor to pull on my boots. I half run, half stumble to the door.

It opens as I reach for the handle. Valentine's broad frame consumes the doorway. He has a bow and a quiver of arrows over his back - and holds another in his hand. My eyes lock onto his – something contracting in my stomach as the memory of our goodnight floods back to me.

I force myself to focus. "What's going on?" I say.

"It appears we're under attack, Lila."

He throws me a bow and I snatch it from the air, taking the quiver from his hand and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Well I could have figured that out..." We head out into the corridor. "Venus?"

"Yes. Seems she tired of trying to send her cupids with the Furies. She must have organized a mass sacrifice. There's a whole army of them."

"Oh..." I tighten my grip around the bow. "That's not good..."

"No. It's not."

His pace is quick, his jaw clenched. His hands flex into fists at his sides. He wasn't worried when James and the two Arrows came earlier; but he's worried now.

The noise gets louder as we head through the dusty corridors. When we reach the mezzanine level looking over one of the grand halls we passed through earlier – the ground shakes. I stumble – grabbing onto the balcony railing.

My eyes widen as I look over the edge; the floor below filled with cupids fighting with the drunken partygoers from Morpheus's speakeasy. There must be about forty of them.

"We must get to the box," says Valentine – placing a hand on my shoulder. "The sand is not strong enough to detract all of them."

I look up at him, nod, then hurry after him down the stairs.

We push through the fighting – Valentine snapping the head of a dead, dark haired cupid in his path. Seconds later someone in a cheerleading outfit takes a swing at me. I grab a sand tipped arrow and sink it into her chest – not sticking around to watch her fall asleep on the tiled floor; barely time to wonder if she's someone from school that Venus turned into a cupid.

I rejoin Valentine in the corridor leading to the box - my pulse racing.

He stops by the door, listens a moment, and turns to look at me – pulling his bow from his shoulder and slipping out an arrow.

"There are cupids in there," he whispers– voice low and urgent. "They can't get the box, Lila."

"I know."

"You have my back?"

I swallow hard, pulling an arrow from my own quiver.

"Yes. I've got your back," I say.

He holds my gaze a moment longer - something blazing behind his eyes. Then he inclines his head and opens the door.

We raise our bows at the three figures in front of the box. And my heart plummets through my body as they turn and raise their bows at us.

Crystal stands in the center – blonde hair uncharacteristically wild down the shoulders of her tan leather jacket. Cupid and Cal stand on either side of her.

Cal stiffens.

Cupid's eyes meet Valentine's. His lips curl up.

"Hello, brother. Long time, no see." His ocean eyes slide to me. "And who's this? Finally got yourself a new girlfriend?"

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