Chapter 55

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The Cupids Matchmaking Service is written in elegant calligraphy across the glass shop front. A sign reading Not taking on any new clients at this time hangs from the door handle.

There's a crack across the dark window. We peer through it at a reception area shrouded in darkness – the wind violently whipping my red dress against my legs and dragging its icy fingers through Cupid's hair. Charlie shivers beside me in her short dress. We both changed into our converse in the car – and in our formal dresses, sneakers, and quivers full of cupid arrows over our shoulders we'd look odd if anyone was paying attention. But the only people – a group of men dressed like they're going out for drinks – are fighting across the sidewalk, clearly under the influence of Mars.

The ground trembles. But Cal stands statuesque – a stony look on his face, blood still smeared across his white shirt.

"Something's wrong," he says.

I run one hand across the cool, reassuring weight of my bow. Not that it'll do us much good. When we're taken prisoner we'll be disarmed.

"What's new?" says Cupid.

I look up at Cupid, then take the box from him. He hands it over with no hesitation. It seems to hum beneath my fingers – like it knows how close we are to delivering it to its final destination.

Venus's agents will take the box from me too. And I don't like that. But what choice do we have.

As soon as we're taken to Venus, I'll get it back.

I will bring the darkness.

I don't fight Psyche's voice in the back of my head. I embrace it. Her anger melds with mine; it is mine.

This won't be easy. But we will win.

"Why would they leave the reception unguarded with all this going on?" says Cal.

"Lucky break?" says Cupid.

We all give him a withering look at his tempting of fate and he shrugs. Then he looks down at me.

"Ready, lovebug?" he says.

In the darkness his eyes are the color of a stormy sea, and they contain so many questions. There's sadness there too - a wistful longing that surely comes from wondering whether I'll ever be the same girl he met when he first came to Forever Falls; or whether all this has changed me too much for us to be truly matched anymore.

I wonder what he sees in my eyes as he stares at me.

Grief? Guilt? Darkness?

I wonder if he sees me, or Psyche.

I don't think I have the strength to ask him. Not until all this is over.

And it will be soon.

The ground shudders beneath us again and I harden my resolve. I look at the door before us.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm ready. Charlie? Cal?"

They nod.

"Don't give in too easily when they attack," I say. "If we hand ourselves straight to them they'll suspect we're up to something."

"Agreed," says Charlie.

Cal opens the door.

A bell tinkles as we step inside.

Then Cal curses under his breath – looking down at a silver trip wire on the ground.

Something clicks. Then there's a whooshing sound.

It fills me with cool adrenaline that seems to slow time down. Four gold and red arrows pierce through the darkness from a contraption hung at the opposite end of the room.

Charlie grabs a distracted Cal, still looking at his feet, and the two dive to the side. Before I can raise the box to deflect the arrow heading towards me, Cupid hooks his hands around my waist and tugs me to the ground on top of him. We crumple down, the arrows pinging off the glass front of the building and then turning to ash.

I feel his chest moving deeply against my back. His hot fast breaths tickle my ear. I'm breathing quickly too – my heart racing against my ribs. We don't move for a few moments, his arms strong still wrapped around my waist.

Then he makes a strangled groaning sound.

"As much as I'd love to have a cuddle with you right now, Lila, your bow is quite close to a . . . sensitive area," he says. "Also – you know – war. . . "

My lip twitches despite the darkness of the situation. "Sorry."

I push myself up. Cal and Charlie are already standing.

"Looks like they didn't leave the reception unattended after all," says Cupid – his voice close to my ear as he gets up behind me. A sound from across the room snaps all our attentions to the frosted glass door behind the desk.

He exhales.

"Here we go," he says.

The door bursts open and a sea of white suits spills through into the reception. Bright light illuminates the space as someone turns the lights on. Arrows glint as they fly through the air towards us. I dodge – raising the box and allowing three arrows to thunk into it, the force sending me stumbling into the reception desk.

Charlie, beside me, raises her bow and sends a couple of Ardors piercing through the air towards a couple of blonde girls. Cupid runs forward and throws a wiry, sharp faced guy into a girl with ginger curls as she aims at Cal.

"Brother!" he yells.

Cal darts to the side – his back thumping into me – before raining Ardors down onto the cupids heading towards us. Screams fill the air as some hit their target. I turn as Charlie cries out. A short, well built guy grabs my arm – taking advantage of my lapse in attention.

I spin around to face him, thrusting the crate into his face. His nose breaks with a satisfying crack and I kick him back onto the white tiles.

Then I look around frantically. The four of us now stand back to back – our shoulders rubbing. We're all breathing fast. We're surrounded by twenty or more cupids – too many for us to fight. They all have arrows pointed directly at us.

The screeching of car tires and howling wind resounds from the street outside. But inside all is quiet.

Then, ahead, the frosted glass door opens again. A familiar girl with long black hair steps into the room. Cal tenses as their eyes meet across the dark room.

"Amena?" he says.

She ignores him.

"We have them," she says into her headset – a cool smile spreading across her face. "Two of her sons are here. The traitor. And –" her eyes move to me "-the girl." She grins. "They have it. They have the box."

She walks towards us – and the crowd parts to let her through. Cal stiffens beside me as she stops in front of us. Her eyes pass over him – no warmth behind them – before they hit me.

"Give me the box," she says.

My heart hammers in my chest. I look for some sign that she is still on our side. I hold it tighter to my body.

In a swift movement she pulls an Ardor from her quiver and holds it to Cal's chin. His eyes widen and he takes a small step – bumping into Cupid's back.

"Give me the box," she repeats. "Your friends are going to experience some extreme discomfort until you do."

I swallow hard. I start to extend my arms. This was always the plan – whether she's on our side or not. Get caught. Go to Venus. But before I can pass it, she plunges the arrow into Cal's chin. He cries out, face reddening, muscles hardening and twitching in the arm that rubs against mine.

"AMENA," he yells – voice filled with horror.

My stomach plummets. I feel sick. I was going to give her it.

I think about the smile I saw her share with the Arrows when we caught them. Has she been on their side all along?

"Here!" I yell – shoving the box into her arms as Cal jerks beside me.

She doesn't even look at him, a grin spreading across her face. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to bring this to her. To get into her good favor."

She turns, walking away from Cal's stifled groans, towards the door.

"Bring the prisoners this way," she says. "We're taking them straight to Venus."

A couple of cupids reach for my arms as the ground trembles again.

The four of us stumble into one another. A number of Matchmaking Agents fall to the floor. The shaking does not desist. The wind howls – rain hitting the glass front of the building like bullets. Cal curses under his breath. Cupid – facing the opposite direction to me – grabs my wrist. I cling to his too – my heart hammering against my chest.

The last time I felt an earthquake this violent we clung to each other – on his balcony as we kissed in the rain.

That didn't end well.

Amena swirls around – stumbling on her feet - eyes widening as the glass front of the Cupids Matchmaking Service smashes into millions of pieces. The raging storm enters - clawing at our skin, and our clothes. My skin stings and I'm unsure if it's the rain hitting me or broken glass. Agents run for cover – diving behind the stone desk as cracks snake through the tiles.

"WE NEED TO GET THEM TO VENUS," yells Amena over the sound of part of the ceiling falling. "NOW!"

Then there is silence. The air stills. The storm desists.

All I can hear is my breathing, and that of Cupid, Cal, and Charlie around me.

Amena's eyes widen on something behind us and Cupid's fingers tighten around my wrist.

The bell tinkles as someone walks through the door.

"I think not," says a deep voice.

Cal stiffens beside me – our eyes still focused on Amena and the box. Charlie breathes in sharply. Cupid curses under his breath.

"Dad's home," he says.

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