The air is thick with silence. Fury radiates from Cupid's body as he stands, tense, in the now open doorway. A bow hangs from his hand.

His eyes move to me, a question blazing within them; are you OK?

I give a half nod to reassure him – but I'm not sure anything about this situation is OK. There's a serial killer stood a foot away from me, he can move faster than I've ever seen anyone move before, and I'm not sure if even Cupid's strength is a match for him.

"Ah, you made it!" Valentine's voice, laced with humor, comes from behind me, "I wasn't sure you would...though, from the state of you, it looks like you met some of my new friends."

Cupid puts his hand to his nose, pinching and rubbing away a dribble of blood that runs from it. His eyes don't move from Valentine.

"Get away from her."

He catches my eye and makes a subtle movement with his head. I know immediately what he is saying. With a sudden movement he raises his bow, flicks an arrow out of the quiver over his shoulder, and shoots.

I dive out of the way as the golden body of the Ardor whooshes past my ear. I hear Valentine grunt as I scramble to my feet and stumble toward Cupid and the exit. Cupid grabs my arm and thrusts me behind him.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest.

I spin back around to see Valentine pulling the torture arrow out of his shoulder and crumbling it to ash between his fingers. My breath catches in my throat. He should be screaming.

I remember when Cupid was hit by the Ardor, back at the Cupids Matchmaking Service. I remember the tortured cries that came from his lips, the way he fell to his knees, and Charlie and I had to pull him out of the path of attack.

As the devilish smile spreads across Valentine's face my blood turns cold; it looks like the arrow hasn't affected him at all. His shocking blue eyes meet Cupid's. They're still glinting with amusement.

"Is that any way to greet your brother after all this time?"

Cupid takes a step forward, slinging his bow back over his shoulder, and taking his re-assuring body heat further away from me.

"It's been about a century, hasn't it?" says Cupid– there's still danger in his tone, but it's less raw than moments earlier. I can feel his confidence grow now that I'm stood behind him, rather than Valentine. "How did you enjoy Dublin?"

"Unfortunately, I didn't get to see as much of it as I would have liked. I was trapped inside a crypt for the majority of the time," he replies with a grin.

"Pity," says Cupid, "The Irish stew is to die for."

Valentine's full lips curl upward. There a condescending look in his eyes – like he knows a secret that we don't. I don't like it. It puts me on edge. Cupid takes another step toward him. Valentine matches it.

The air between the two crackles with tension.

"Speaking of the last time we saw each other, how's our little Cal doing?" says Valentine "Last time I saw you he hated you almost as much as he hated me."

Cupid shrugs.

"Things have changed since then."

"Yes," says Valentine – his eyes taunting, "Because of her."

He looks over Cupid's shoulder at me, his eyes catching mine. I see Cupid's broad shoulders tense.

"Don't even look at her," he growls.  

And then, suddenly, Cupid charges.

He grabs Valentine by the collar of his shirt and thrusts him hard into the wall. Valentine, instantaneously, pushes against Cupid's chest and I see his six foot something body flung across the gym as though he weighs nothing.

"Cupid!" I shout as he falls to the floor.

He rolls over and pushes himself to his feet. He looks at me.

"Get out of here, Lila," he says.

His eyes fix on Valentine who is advancing forward. And seconds later the two are a blur of muscles. With a heavy blow, Valentine throws Cupid into the wall and I hear a loud crack as his body impacts it. Moments later Valentine is pulling him back to his feet by the collar of his white t-shirt and banging his head repeatedly against the wall.

He's losing. I can't leave him.

I run at Valentine, jumping up on his back and pulling with all my body weight. I catch him off guard and we tumble to the hard, gym floor. Valentine laughs in surprise. He grabs my foot as I scramble away from him and pulls me back as though I weigh nothing. He looks down at me, his face close to mine.

"Lila, what's with all this violence? I told you, I only want to talk with you," his grin widens. "For now, anyway..."

I jerk my knee upwards into his crotch and he grunts – his shocking blue eyes darkening momentarily. Before he can react to me he grunts again. I look over him and see Cupid, back on his feet, plunging another Ardor arrow in Valentine's back.

His face is as dark as thunder.

He hooks his arm around Valentine's neck and pulls him to his feet.

"What did I just say?" growls Cupid. "You don't look at Lila," he spins him around and hurls a fist into his jaw.  Valentine stumbles back. "You don't touch Lila," he throws another blow Valentine's way. "You don't..."

Valentine catches his fist in his hand and Cupid roars. He charges into his torso and the two land on the floor, not far from the two dead bodies that Cupid threw there moments earlier. It's then, as Cupid drags Valentine back to his feet and punches him square across the jaw, that I notice something weird; something that turns my blood to ice.

The two bodies look like they've been dead for longer than the few moments since Cupid shot them with the black cupid arrow. Their skin is grey and moist, their eyes sunken. And they smell; they smell bad.

And as my eyes notice them properly for the first time, I see something else. My heart seems to stop entirely.

They're moving.

I think I see the fingers of one of them twitch. I think I see the other blink.

No. Surely I'm seeing things...

As Cupid repeatedly hits Valentine, finally causing him to stumble back, finally getting the upper hand, one of them reaches out for Cupid's foot.

What the...?

"CUPID!" I cry out.

He looks as surprised as me as he is pulled to the floor. He hits the ground hard, his eyes darting to the side to find me. The two bodies slowly sit up as Valentine, nonplussed, grabs Cupid and hurls him twenty feet across the room into the wall.

There's another cracking sound as Cupid makes impact, and slides down, unconscious onto the floor – a blob of blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

"CUPID!" I shriek again.

Panic floods me.

I try to run to him but the two cupids, who should be dead, are now on their feet; blocking my way. They turn to look at me with black, sunken eyes.

I freeze.

How...? How is this possible?

Something comes back to me – something I heard a couple of days ago. Something about the dead. But my heartbeat pounds so hard in my ears it deafens me; drowning out any rational thought.

And then I hear rhythmic footsteps coming from behind me. The sickening odor strengthens. I dart my gaze over my shoulder. And I have to fight to stay standing.

Because there are five more of them – five more cupids with grey skin, and empty eyes. Five more cupids that look like they've been dead a long time. They surround me and Valentine.

Valentine looks at Cupid, slumped against the wall. Then he turns. He rubs a hand across his mouth. His lips curl upward.

"Now, where were we?" he says.