Chapter 11
Damn. I hated being right.
But there it was. Out in the open. He thought this was a funny joke. And he’d just made me, a word witch, completely speechless.
“At first, I thought I was just messing with you. Brand-new Supreme whose rise to power had created massive weather phenomena and opened portals? It was too tempting to pass up. You being half-human made it even more fun.” For the first time, I was seeing a glimpse of the true pre-Psyche Cupid.
And I did not like him. “Then it started affecting the whole town. I wasn’t even doing anything by then.
I shot a bunch of wonky arrows into the sky and let them fly. Then I sat back to enjoy the chaos.”
My ears burned. I started gnawing on the inside of my mouth, praying to every god and goddess I could name that they might keep me from leaping across my desk and throttling one of their brethren. He was causing this pain on purpose. Out of sheer spite and selfishness.
“So for three months you’ve been toying with me?” I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. Hot tears, born of anger, threatened behind my eyes. Hell, no. I was not gonna cry in front of Cupid.
“Not totally. I really did hope you could help me get Psyche back. I wasn’t always lying here.” He gestured around the room. “But the flaccid arrow part? Me?”
He stood up, running his hands up and down in front of his body. “Does this look like the bod of someone who can’t perform?”
It seemed I wasn’t done rolling my eyes at this particular patient. “Sit down, Cupid.”
He flexed his biceps one more time, then sat. Okay. I had the confession. And I, at least partly, understood the motive. Now how did I get him to reverse it?
“Are you going to answer my question?” I asked, my voice tight.
“What question? The one about safety and happiness?”
“Yes. Does this mischievous version of Cupid make you feel happy and safe?”
He lifted his head to the sky, as if searching for an answer.
“No. I’m not safe or happy.” He shifted to face me, and the expression he wore was pure mayhem. “But at least I’m having fun again.”
“You know, Cupid, they say hurt people hurt people.”
“Ooh, I never heard that one.” With surprisingly dainty fingers, he tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. His smile was so wide I could see every perfect white tooth in his stupid, perfect mouth. “You’re such a good therapist.”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way,” I continued, ignoring his taunt. “I’ve always found that angry people hurt people. But you didn’t do this to cause pain, did you?”
“Mostly, I did it so you would treat me.” He materialized a nail file and started shaping his thumb. The sound. Oh, that sound was gonna eat me alive.
“What if I told you that I’d decided to treat you anyway?” He stopped filing, glancing at me over his fingers. “It’s true. I was going to take you on as a client. There was no need for that.”
The nail file disappeared. Cupid placed his hands in his lap. “Well, now I feel like a dick.”
“If the shoe fits.” He laughed, and I wanted him to. But internally? I was mad. Big mad.
A fresh surge of rage was rising to the surface.
A sort of righteous indignation that tickled my throat and made my magic coil, ready to spring like a snake.
I wasn’t about to pretend what he’d done was okay.
The Simone who kept quiet to avoid making waves was long gone. Cupid had called up a tsunami.
“You took advantage of my compassion and kindness,” I told him. “And you fucked with people I love. I’m not okay with that.”
“If it helps, I’ve felt really bad about it.”
“Did you?” My voice was rising, and God forbid I be labeled hysterical. I paused, took a breath, and started again. “Did you? Because a few minutes ago you told me you’d been enjoying the chaos.”
Caught in his own web, Cupid sat quiet.
“Which is it?” I pressed. “Are you having fun being the type of god who screws with a whole community, or do you feel guilty for causing potentially extensive damage just because you’re in pain?”
Cupid dropped his gaze again, so I pulled out my best mom voice. “Look at me when we’re speaking, Cupid. It’s a basic show of respect.”
When he looked up, I saw what I’d hoped to see. The basic push-pull of emotions warring in his eyes. He twisted his lips, scrunched his nose, and fidgeted like he’d just drunk a thousand cups of coffee.
“Can it be both?” He finally asked.
“Actually, yes.” I sat with our silence.
Not because I wanted him to fill it, but because I wanted to calm down.
“You made an impulsive decision at a time of vulnerability. And you had fun with it because it fed some ugly part of you that liked causing chaos. But as time passed, your conscience started to lecture you.”
“Nailed it, Doc. Sorry,” he added at my disapproving glare. “That’s exactly how it is, Simone.”
He stared at his lap again, but only for a second before he remembered my admonition.
“Well, Cupid. I believe that’s the most honest you’ve been with me, and yourself, in three months.”
He laughed, a sound full of relief rather than glee. “So, what do we do now?”
“You took the first step. You’ve admitted your mistake. Now we take steps to repair the damage.”
“How do we do that?” A tray of fresh fruit and nuts appeared on the desk. A peace offering from Cecelia? Or was she just sweetening the path forward? Cupid’s head swiveled around the room. “Uh, thanks. I was getting hungry.”
“Enjoy your snack,” I said. “Then let’s remove the arrows you shot.”
Cupid stopped chewing, his eyebrows lifting. “But I can’t,” he said through a mouthful of nuts.
“You … can’t?” I could feel my heart thudding against my chest. “What do you mean you can’t?”
“My arrows are permanent. I can’t undo them once they hit their target.” He swallowed, looking at me with such pure sorrow my breath stopped short in my chest. “It’s a shame, too. It really messed with your … potential.”
“My what?” Was this what a heart attack felt like? Was I actually having a stroke right now? I held up my hand. “You know what, don’t tell me. That would be selfish.”
Oh, I wanted to know. I really, really wanted to know. But I still felt Brianne’s pain like it was my own. And my stomach churned a bit at the notion, as if he’d offered me a silver bullet in the shape of a magic pill that would hurt like hell to swallow and had right nasty side effects.
“I suppose I can ask around,” he said. “Sometimes, I don’t know my own strength. But my mom might know what to do. Or …” His voice trailed off, and the silence he left behind filled me with fresh dread.
“Or Psyche?” A lead weight settled in my stomach. I’d have to double my efforts to get in touch with her. It was more important now than ever before.
“Please don’t give up on me, Simone. I promise I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He lowered his voice, the first hint of actual concern hitting me like a slap across the face.
I could only gape at the man-child sitting across from me, who had played with matches and was now setting a thousand tiny fires in the driest forest he could find.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
“I know! I’ll shoot new arrows in the meantime.” He brightened and sprang from his chair. “It might have a weird effect, but maybe it’ll help.”
“Wait,” I called out, but he was already heading for the door. “Wait, Cupid, what weird effect?”
“See you Monday,” he all but sang, and was gone before I could ask any more questions.
I stood in my lobby, rubbing my fingers over my forehead as it all washed over me. The lack of sleep. The days of research. Cupid’s mood swings. And this fun new development.
Cecelia sent a fresh breeze to wash over me, scenting it with roses. She shoved me with it, oh so gently from behind. When I stepped outside, the coven was waiting to hear from me. I could scarcely bear Brianne’s hopeful eyes.
But my attention was drawn away from them and to the two bouquets sitting on the break room table. One, a towering display of roses. The second, what looked like hand-picked yellow tulips wrapped in a delicate bow.
There was a card on the tulips. Handwriting I recognized.
Looking forward to our date. – Ray
And as the true implications of this new development settled over me, fresh concern spread ice through my veins. He was shooting new arrows. In my attempt to solve one problem, I’d created a bevy of new ones.
Because I had two dates. With men I really liked. Who were supposed to be mostly neutral toward me. But had just sent me flowers.
Great job, Simone.