Silence.

Valentine is back.

Cupid's words seem to echo around the high-ceilinged room. Words that I'm still not sure of the implication.

Cal stands, statuesque, by the counter of weapons in the Combat Training Room. The color has drained from his face, accentuating the cool tones in his eyes. He runs both of his slender hands through his blonde hair then brings his gaze back to me.

He looks at my phone, still in my hand.

"When will you be back?" he says – his voice strained.

"I'm on my way – a couple of hours at most," says Cupid – the line crackling as he drives. "There was no point sticking around. He's been gone for months."

I think of what Crystal said. Cupids have been going missing since Venus was destroyed.

"And...there's more..."

"What?"

"I think it's best I tell you when I get back. Lila," he says – his tone suddenly urgent. "Are you OK?"

I think of the conversation I overheard with Cal late last night, the strange note in my pocket, and the girl I keep seeing – following me. Plus, the fact I'm generally pretty freaked out about the whole potential serial killer after me situation...

"Lila?" he says – his voice a little strained.

I sigh.

There's too much to say on the phone – and I don't want him to worry. It's not like he can do anything right now.

"I'm fine," I say. "Are you going to tell me who this Valentine is, now?"

He hesitates – the only sound coming through the speaker being the low thrum of the engine.

"Brother?" says Cupid.

I catch Cal's eye and he nods.

"I'll tell her."

"Good," there's a pause, then, "see you soon, lovebug."

Cupid hangs up the phone. I look up at Cal, my pulse still racing. He exhales then starts to move toward the exit of the combat training room.

"Come with me," he says. "I'll explain everything."

***

Cal leads me back through the indoor courtyard, heading through another archway into the next corridor.

I remember coming this way only once before – on the way to the surveillance room the first time I ever came to the Cupids Matchmaking Service. The time Cal showed me the footage of my parents meeting for the first time.

I walk quickly, taking two steps for each one of his long strides, as he leads us into the dark room, filled with screens. My eyes flicker across them momentarily, and – seeing the images of people going about their daily lives – I, again, get the prickly feeling of discomfort that the Matchmaking Service have eyes on everyone.

Cal moves to the control desk in the center of the space without looking at me. He sighs, then pushes a number of buttons on the panel. The monitors flicker off, leaving us in total darkness for a moment, before they turn back on to form one large cinematic sized screen.

"Wow," I say quietly, "We should watch movies in here sometime or something..."

I give Cal a weak grin, which is returned with an unamused look – though I think I see his eyes soften slightly. He looks back at the screen and I follow his gaze.

I think we're in a museum somewhere. Old, classical paintings line the high-ceilinged room. I have no idea what he's trying to show me.

"It's the Met," says Cal.

"Um...OK...?" I say.

I walk across the room to stand beside him. He pushes a joystick forward and the monitor zooms in on one of the pieces of art on the wall. It has cupids, sketched onto the ancient looking canvas. They're in the form of the cherub winged baby types that Cupid seemed disgruntled to be thought of as earlier. My lip quirks upwards slightly despite the seriousness of the situation.

"You showing me your baby photos or something?" I ask.

"Ha ha," says Cal in a monotone, "so funny." He shoots me a sideways look. "What do you see?"

I shrug.

"Cupids."

"How many?"

"Three."

He pushes another button and the screen flickers to another corridor of a museum. Or perhaps even a different museum altogether.

"Now we're in the V&A," he says.

He zooms the lens again onto another gold framed painting. This time there are cupids playing instruments in the image.

"What do you see?" he says.

"Cupids," I shrug.

"How many?"

I give him a sideways glance, my eyebrows furrowed as something begins to come together in my mind.

"Three..."

His silvery eyes blaze into mine a moment. Then he pushes a button and the screens flicker back to what they were before.

Cal turns on his heel and heads to the exit.

"This way," he says without looking back.

"Cal, wait," I say, rushing after him, "are you trying to tell me...?"

"Shh," he says. "Wait until we get into my office."

We stride back the way we came, through the indoor courtyard and into the open plan office area.

I hurriedly glance around it - checking the faces of the Matchmaking Agents behind their white computer screens for any sign of Charlie. She can't have got here yet – probably has some social committee meeting or something.

We reach Cal's office. He opens the door for me, then goes and sits down behind his desk. I throw myself into the shabby red armchair in front of it.

I look around quickly – despite the questions burning in my mind – as always wondering if I'll find some object that could offer insight into the mystery that is Cal. But as far as I can see there is only one personal, non-stationary related item in the glass walled room. My eyes find it; the chipped world's best boyfriend mug sat beside a shabby plastic kettle on the side.

I remember when he told me the story behind it. A human that he fell in love with but had to turn into a cupid to escape his mother's wrath.

I can feel his discomfort that I'm looking so I quickly move my eyes back to his.

"In those paintings, there were three cupids..." I say.

He nods.

Slowly he reaches back to the black filing cabinet against the wall behind it. He pulls out a drawer – rummages past all the files – then picks up an object hidden at the back. He puts it down and pushes it slowly toward me. It makes a scraping sound against the surface of the desk.

It's an old, badly made, ceramic pot – painted in black and orange. It's like the ones they used to make in Ancient Greek times.

"What is this?" I ask, taking it.

It's cool to the touch, and heavy in my hand.

Cal says nothing, merely watches me over the screen of his computer. I study it – turning it around in my fingers. There's a painting on it – three badly drawn boys holding arrows.

"Three cupids..." I mumble.

"My brother made it of us when we were children," says Cal.

I catch his eyes, a smile tugging at my lip. I can't imagine him as a child.

"Cupid made this?" I say.

Cal holds my gaze, then solemnly he shakes his head.

"No," he says. "Our other brother. Valentine."

Author note: Hi guys! Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, I wasn't feeling well yesterday. Hope it was worth the wait! I'm pulling together the Friday Feature for you now to be posted later today! Lots of love, Lauren xx