*CUPID'S MATCH BOOK 2* FIRST DRAFT
Lila receives an ominous Valentine's Day card.
Cupid & Cal are keeping a dark secret.
Fate is being interfered with.
And a sadistic, and extremely powerful banished cupid is intent on stealing Lila's heart. Literal...
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I sit at the breakfast bar in Cupid's kitchen, a steaming mug of black coffee resting between my hands. The rays of sunset shine through the glass front of Cupid's house; they give him a warm glow as he leans against the counter by the fridge – a bag of frozen peas held against his face to stop the swelling. He doesn't seem as warm as usual though.
His muscles are taut, and his jaw clenched. Instead of the vibrant, arrogant, fun loving Cupid I have been acquainted with, someone else much more dangerous stands in his place. Our plans for dinner have been pushed violently aside by Valentine – now we just wait for Cal, Crystal, and Charlie to arrive so we can tell them what happened and decide what to do next.
My mind is buzzing with questions. About Valentine, about the weird, zombie cupids, and about Morta. Who was she?
We didn't talk much on the way here. After checking I was OK, Cupid was mostly quiet – his jaw set, his body tense. And when I tried to press him for information about the girl with the shears - he just shook his head as if to say not now. After everything that has just happened - him meeting his serial killing brother, being beaten in a fight, and me nearly being kidnapped – I'd respected his wishes and stopped talking.
But now I need answers. I need to know what is going on.
What had Morta said? She needed to talk to us about the match?
What does that mean?!
And as I replay the scene from before...
Hadn't Valentine said something about the match too?
My mind had been pretty pre-occupied at the time - but didn't he say he'd found me in the Matchmaking Service system? What did he mean by that?
It fills me with a nervous energy, a feeling of dread, though I can't put my finger on why.
"Cupid?" I say suddenly. He flinches, as though he'd forgotten I was here, then jerks his head toward me. "What are you thinking?" I ask.
I look up at him. My eyes trace his knuckles, whitened as they clench onto the counter, then move up to his chest, which is moving up and down heavily – his breathing hard and fast. I fix my gaze on his face.
What are you thinking, Cupid? It's the question that is pretty much always on my mind. A question that I never quite know the answer to.
He moves the bag of frozen peas, revealing the skin on his cheek that is already starting to turn a little purple. He looks down, shakes his head, then looks back up again. His eyes flash when they meet mine – a storm behind them.
"What were you doing in the gym, Lila? Why didn't you meet me in the parking lot like you were supposed to?"
His tone is harsh, raw – his voice cracks slightly as thought the words hurt his throat coming out. I feel a pang of hurt at the way he is speaking to me, but guilt twists around it. It's my fault, I know that. He got beaten up because of me.
