Chapter 37
Iwas banging on the door of a god’s house.
Okay, I’m a drama queen. That isn’t an accurate statement.
I was knocking politely on the door of a god’s apartment.
For two solid days, Lauren and I had scoured the codex, and any other damn references we could get our hands on, for a mention of the Hem.
So far, we’d found a whole load of nothing.
The Twins hadn’t heard of it. The town library was mysteriously devoid of magical books.
Even Books and Brew, which had the word book in its damn title, was in a “restocking” period, whatever that meant.
Gumbo was noticeably absent from the Magnolia. Mystical Protector, my ass. Mystical Menace was a more apt term.
For whatever reason, the universe did not want me to know anything about the Hem.
To make matters worse, Cupid had skipped out on his Wednesday appointment. There I was, frantically trying to find a broad solution to the problem he’d caused, and he’d checked out mere days before the deadline. I’d waited an hour. Then two. Then three.
No way was I going to let him leave me alone with this. At the very least, I needed him to help Ray. So, with Brianne’s help, I’d tracked him down, only to find out that Cupid had rented an apartment in the residential district.
The Roman god of love was Brianne’s neighbor. Who’da thunk?
“Cupid.” He wasn’t answering, so I knocked louder. “Cupid, it’s Simone. Please open up so we can talk.”
This was, in my twenty-plus years as a therapist, only the second time I’d made something akin to a house call. Doug had been the first, my first client here in Treater’s Way, and the one I’d messed up the most royally. Visiting patients’ homes was not a habit I wanted to keep.
But desperate times and all that.
His door didn’t open, but the one adjacent to it did. A woman popped her head out, curlers in her hair and a scowl on her face. “If you’re looking for the half-naked fella, he’s not here.”
“Oh, thank you.” My hopes sank. “I don’t suppose he told you where he was going?”
“Actually, yeah.” She stepped out fully, wrapping her robe tighter around herself. The tip of a tail poked out, nosing the ground. I kept my eyes on her face. “He told the whole damn complex. He and that wife of his. Bad enough they were screaming and moaning all night.”
Yuck. But, well, that explained things. If he and Psyche were … back together, then he probably thought he didn’t need me anymore. But surely Psyche wouldn’t allow him to slink back in without, at the very least, trying to resolve the Cupid Cockblock. Surely this was just another slip. Right?
Who knew with these immortals? Unpredictable, the lot of them. The woman watched me silently. I gave her my best I’m not a psychopath smile. “Where were they headed?”
She took a long, slow drag of her cigarette. Something tingled along my skin, probing around me like it was trying to find a point of entry. A vague whisper crept up the back of my neck. I crossed my arms and lifted my eyebrow at her. She chuckled.
“Just curious,” she said. “They went to Illusion Square. Said something about making it rain.” As she turned, her tail lifted the back of her robe, exposing furry legs and hooves beneath her slippers. “Better not be another damned boobicane.”
She shut the door, and I turned to run. Making it rain did not sound like a good thing.
My worst thoughts took over. Psyche had decided Cupid’s random arrow technique was a good one, and they were torturing us poor mortals for funsies.
Or maybe he was going to make it rain literally, washing us all out to the bay. Could Cupid even control weather?
Illusion Square was all the way on the opposite end of town, and I had no idea when they’d left. Even for someone who ran, intermittently, it was pushing it. And I didn’t have a car. I stopped in the street. But I had magic. Seriously. One day I’d need to make myself a shirt or something.
“I’m in the middle of Illusion Square.” My BMVTM did its job, and I was hurling through the air and across town. Too late, I realized I’d been entirely too literal. The middle of Illusion Square was a—
smack
My face hit the bark of the Mighty Oak, then I fell onto my ass, landing in the water basin at the root of the tree.
“Oof.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Sorry about that,” I said to the tree.
“That was quite an entrance!” Mrs. Donergan, the town kook who made it a habit to sit and chat with the Mighty Oak all day, reached her hand out with a grin.
A few of her teeth were missing, and her hair was basically just a few strands, but the woman had quite a grip.
She hoisted me upright and helped me out of the water.
“Thanks.” I wrung out my shirt, then my hair, scanning the Square to see if anyone noticed.
Sure enough, Ethan was emerging from Beyond Thyme, the apothecary at the southwest corner of the Square.
He had two small gift bags, one tied with yellow ribbon, the other with pink.
He took one look at me, stopped, and doubled over with laughter.
What would happen if I punched Ethan? With all my might? In the belly?
I snorted at my own thoughts. I’d felt his abs. They were rock hard. Like his head. Instead of punching, I turned to the Mighty Oak. “Can I borrow some of that water?”
The Oak’s leaves rustled, as if she laughed with us. As they did, a shower of rainwater dumped right on Ethan’s head. Impressive, since it hadn’t rained in a while. As he walked toward me, water dripping from his nose, I grinned. “Never laugh at a witch who’s friends with a tree.”
“I thought we were friends, too,” he said, eyeing the Oak. The leaves rustled again, and he chuckled. “Fickle girl.”
“What are you doing here on a Wednesday afternoon?” Someone from the cafe ran out and handed us both towels, then trotted back to work as if people got wet in the Square every day. “Don’t you have court or something?”
“Not today. I was shopping.” He looked down at his bags, now sopping wet, and sighed.
“Oops. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” He extended the one with the yellow ribbon to me. “This one was for you, anyway.”
“Oh. Uh, thank you.” I took the bag with an uncertain smile. Ethan had never bought me a present before. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a Roman god around, have you?”
Ethan gave me the usual look I got when I said something off the wall. Part of me wondered if I could smack him on the back and make it stick.
“Simone! You got my call.” Cupid wrapped me in a giant bear hug, smooshing my face into his bare chest. I struggled to pull back. “Why are you wet?”
“I fell.” Speaking of rock-hard abs, I poked his stomach. “You didn’t show this morning.”
“But I called.” He looked genuinely confused. Turning, he reached for Psyche, bringing her forward. “Didn’t I call?”
“You said you were going to, my love, but I cannot confirm you did.” She smiled at him. “Then again, we’ve been distracted.”
They looked like they were about to go at each other right there in public. Ethan stepped to my side. “Is that …?”
“Yep.” Cupid looked like a cupid. He was wearing the golden toga I’d seen him in before. He’d shaved to show off his chiseled jaw. A laurel wreath crowned his temples. And on his back was the quiver. Along with a bow. “What are you up to, Cupid?”
“Huh?” He pulled his gaze away from Psyche, who let her hand rest on his forearm. Oh yeah, they were back together. He blinked at me, pulling me into focus, then his face brightened. “Right! I figured it out!”
“You figured it out, my love?” Psyche patted him.
“My wife figured it out,” Cupid amended with a grin. “I can make it rain!”
“I heard something about that when I went to your apartment earlier.” I pasted on a patient smile. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Well, Psyche reminded me that I’d done this before. About eight hundred years ago? Maybe nine hundred? Who knows.” He winked at his wife, who let out a titter. I cannot. “At the time, I only shot one arrow, you see. But it was a doozy.”
Psyche leaned toward me, dropping her voice to a whisper. “It was a religious figure.”
I shuddered, thanking the stars that my love of knowledge did not lend itself to historical battles. I suspected I would not like what I found if I looked that one up.
“He caused a big mess.” As he spoke, Cupid pulled one of his arrows from the quiver, fiddling with the fletchings. “But the guy I shot died, and his cause sort of snowballed. I couldn’t exactly shoot one person and fix it.”
“Of course not,” Ethan said. Cupid didn’t seem to notice his sarcasm.
“So Psyche suggested I shoot the clouds and make it rain, um, arrow essence.” It sounded too dirty to ask. Cupid aimed at the sky, notching his arrow. “If I have it just right, it should offset any of the shots I’ve taken so far. Unless they were meant to happen, of course.”
“Wait, what does that—”
Cupid released the string. The Mighty Oak parted its branches just in time, and his arrow, with a whistle we could hear down on the ground, launched directly toward the clouds.
We all looked around, waiting for whatever was about to happen.
Nothing.
I released my breath in a whoosh.
“I could have sworn …” Cupid’s words trailed off, and he looked to the sky and smiled. “Here it comes.”
As the first drop hit my cheek, I looked up. The sky was a vivid blue, as crisp and clear as it had been that morning. There was nary a cloud in sight.
And yet, it rained. The rain was a solid, but not heavy, shower. As it hit me, I tasted something sweet. I licked my lips, looking questioningly at Cupid.
“Ambrosia,” he said with a grin. “It’s a fun little flair, don’t you think?”
I nodded absently. I was pretty sure ambrosia was what made mortals immortal, but I wasn’t going to ask. If we were all suddenly going to live forever, well, I had time to worry about that later.
It rained for two solid hours, during which we all stood in the Square and watched. When it finished, Cupid spread his arms wide and hopped up and down in full Labrador mode. “Ta-da!”
“What about the people who aren’t outside today?” I asked.
“It rained everywhere, silly.” Cupid laughed as if my question had the most obvious answer ever. “Inside. Outside. Sidewise. Everyone got wet.”
“And now.” Psyche clasped her husband’s hand and pressed her lips to his with a quick smack. “Now, everyone will get dry.”
Sure enough, as soon as she said it, there was no trace of rain. Not on the streets, our clothes, or in any of the shops. It was like it had never happened.
But old Mrs. Donergan rubbed her ass and cackled. “Thank goodness that’s over! I’ve been feeling very strange.”
“Well,” I said to Cupid. “Good job! How did that feel?”
“Like a whole lotta light.” Cupid kissed the top of my head. “Thanks, Simone. You’ve been the best so far.”
“What do you mean, so far?” I asked.
Cupid tapped his wrist, where no watch sat, and gestured to his wife. “We’re going to be late, my darling.”
“I’m right behind you, dear.” She blew him a kiss, then Cupid waved at me and dashed off down the street.
Psyche looped her arm in mine, walking toward the entrance to Illusion Square.
“Every five hundred years or so, Cupid and I reach an impasse. He forgets himself, and I have to, if you’ll pardon the expression, shake the sugar tree. ”
Holy hell in a handbasket. Was she saying what I thought she was?
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Only a tiny squeak.
Psyche laughed. “I leave him, he grovels and swears to change. Eventually, I take him back, enjoying the fruits of his attention until he inevitably grows complacent.”
“I … see,” I finally managed. Her confession sat bitter in my throat. “So this was all a game to you two?”
“Oh no, dear, don’t misunderstand. Long-term relationships need a bit of a dustup time and again.
It’s what keeps the passion alive. It was not my intent to involve humans.
That was unfortunate collateral damage.” She placed her hands on my shoulders, beaming down at me, butterflies dancing.
“But please hear this. In all the times we’ve had our issues, no one, not ever, has helped Cupid find his path back to me better than you.
You’ve truly changed him, and I have hope that I won’t have to perform this stunt again anytime soon. ”
There went my flabber. Straight up gasted. Again.
“Well, we’re off for a vacation on the coast. But before I go, I have a secret present.
Something for those books of yours. He’s a good man, my Cupid, but he’s not the most observant.
If he was, he might have noticed, and saved you some trouble.
” She kissed me, softly, on the cheek before turning my body back in the direction of Illusion Square.
“Wolf shifters are immune to the effects of his arrow. It has something to do with their markings. It takes a lot for magic to penetrate them.”
I didn’t see her leave. I felt rooted to the spot, unsure how to digest the information she’d given me. Not sure I wanted to, as it raised more questions than answers. Cupid had said he hit one. Apparently, it didn’t matter which. It hadn’t changed a thing about their behavior.
Some gift, Psyche.
I walked toward Ethan, who was still staring at the gift bag with the red ribbon. “It stayed wet,” he told me when I approached.
“Sorry.” I didn't know what else to say. The other bag hung loosely in my fingers.
“You know, a few hours ago, I was concerned I was giving you the wrong gift.” Ethan shifted his gaze to the Wanderer’s Woods, tilting his head as if he’d heard something. He wrapped one arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. “Now, I’ve never been more sure.”
Then Ethan did something that shocked the heck out of me. He slapped his hand to my butt. With a ruffle of my hair, he nudged me forward. “Go get him, Little Fox.”
“Get who?” I asked, but Ethan was already striding away, whistling as his long legs carried him … wherever.
I wandered closer to the Woods, to the spot where Nina had staged her attack.
Everyone in the Square milled about as normal, as if the rain hadn’t appeared then disappeared.
I wanted to feel relieved. By all accounts, Cupid had fixed his own mess.
He and his wife were off on some adventure.
And it seemed I could trust that Ethan and I were on the same page.
But it was all too surreal. Which was probably an indication that I needed some rest. After all, I hadn’t slept, not really, in at least a week. Still, I remained where I was, staring at the woods as if I could see what Ethan had.
“Get who?” I said to no one.
But someone answered. “Me.”
Ray Chase stepped out of the forest.