Crazy Cupid Love

by Amanda Heger

  She did not. “Right, absolutely.”

  “You have a good night,” the Maenad said before continuing her jaunt down the hall.

  “You too,” Eliza called over her shoulder. Once the woman had gone, she sprinted the rest of the way to the library and poked her head into the open doorway. Silence. She was utterly alone. Now all she had to do was find the Descendants’ Scroll and—

  “Eliza?”

  Hearing that voice sent her emotions into a tailspin. Turn around, she told herself. (Don’t you dare turn around.) It’ll be fine. (It’s going to be a disaster.) Jake’s here because he cares about you. (If he cared about you, he wouldn’t have lied to you.)

  In the end, she turned. But she only let herself look at his feet. Something told her that anything more might rip her heart straight down the middle. “Hi, Jake.”

  “What are you— Is that a tablecloth?”

  She glanced at the tablecloth bundled around her lower half, then stood up straight and proud. Gods, he is gorgeous. No, this wasn’t how she wanted to run into her ex-whatever, but she was going to rock it anyway. “It might be.”

  “Hey…” He took a step closer, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

  Her heart cried out in agony, begging her to throw herself against him, tell him everything that had happened to her in the last few days, and plead for his help.

  But part of her—a part that seemed to burn brighter with every second that she stood in his presence—wanted him gone. Far away. Far enough that he couldn’t look at her with those stupid gold-flecked eyes and try to convince her that he was anything but a lying liar who lies.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah?” he said, taking a step forward.

  She took a deep breath, unsure which version of her would win out. “Leave,” she finally said.

  “What? Eliza?” He took another step closer. She took one back. “What’s going on?” he asked. “This isn’t you.”

  She adjusted her tablecloth and stared him dead in the eyes. Unseen spiders crawled beneath her skin, shooting hot poison into her veins. Every painful bite pushed her closer to rage. “You barely know me anymore, Jake. You haven’t in years. This is me. Take it or leave it. But preferably leave it.”

  Holy Hades. She shook out her arms, trying to find herself beneath the layers of hurt and anger. Where had that come from? And why did she feel like she was starring in a Greek-inspired version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?

  “Eliza, please—” Jake reached for her.

  She whipped her arm away. Apparently, Mr. Hyde was here to stay. “Don’t you dare,” she snarled.

  Jake gave her space but didn’t leave. “Something is wrong with you. I’m worried—”

  “I don’t need a babysitter anymore, Jake. I’m fine.” Luckily, the room seemed to be empty, because she certainly wasn’t using a library-appropriate voice. “In fact, I’m better than fine, so you’re welcome to leave now.”

  He crossed his arms. “You’re wearing a tablecloth, dripping wet, in the middle of the library on a Thursday night, and you want me to believe you’re better than fine?”

  Ugh. Why wouldn’t he leave her in peace? The clock was ticking. She turned toward the row of glass cases where the official Descendants’ Scroll lay in its place of glory—right next to a display titled “Ares through the Ages.”

  Eliza took a step closer to the Scroll, and icy panic shot through her veins. The key. Mrs. Washmoore had the key, and she didn’t—couldn’t—know Eliza had made it into the library.

  Time for plan B. Jake—the old librarian’s perfect, can-do-no-wrong nephew—was here, desperate to talk to Eliza. Maybe she had a use for him after all. She whipped around, ready to coldly manipulate him into doing her bidding.

  Except…

  Standing face-to-face with him, Eliza couldn’t help but notice the genuine concern in his eyes. She couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel all those times he’d believed in her more than she’d believed in herself. And she couldn’t look away from his sure, protective stance—ready to whisk her away from whatever was causing her so much pain.

  If only he knew he was the source of that pain.

  She forced back the acidic anger that burned her throat with memories of the good times. Eating French toast. Laughing at their childhood escapades. Kissing in the moonlight. And the more she tapped into those memories, the weaker the rage became. But the more she felt like…herself. “Jake?”

  He waited as if observing a wild animal.

  “I’ve figured out what’s causing the enchantments to go wrong,” she said, tamping down a tiny flare of fury. “And I need your help.”

  Once she’d crossed that hurdle, the rest came pouring out. Her meeting with Weston Presley. How she’d been enchanting Ron Weasley for years. That the stuff with the Mandroid wasn’t simply a coincidence. Egg Salad Saga. The Descendants’ Scroll.

  What she needed him to do.

  “I swear I wouldn’t ask if there was another way, but I’m running out of time and you’re the only one she would even consider letting into the case. If you can just get the key from her, I’ll do the rest.”

  Jake looked down at her, his expression cloudy and unreadable.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He stepped into her personal space, and she braced herself, expecting another flicker of anger to ignite inside her. But instead all she found were sorrow and desperation.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  Eliza nodded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I’m so mixed up inside about you and me, but I’ve never been more sure about anything than this. I need that key, Jake. Please.”

  He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze up to meet hers.

  Eliza’s throat constricted and sweat broke out along her hairline. Everything was too bright but also too dark, and a vein in her neck throbbed uncontrollably. She jerked her face away. “Don’t.”

  Jake’s hand fell back to his side. “Please tell me what I can do to fix this. If you—”

  “What you can do is get the key. Please.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “Stay here. I’ll be back in ten with the key. I swear. And then we’re going to figure this thing out. Together.”

  And then he disappeared into the main hall of the Agora, leaving Eliza alone with her tumbling feelings.

  “Well, this is quite the turn of events, isn’t it?” A familiar voice snaked through the stacks, followed by an all-too-familiar face steeped half in shadow.

  Eliza started before she let out a sigh of relief. “Agent Oliver? I didn’t realize you were, um…” She didn’t know how to put the whole internal is-he-a-Descendant debate into words without being offensive. But his presence at the Agora settled it once and for all.

  “Just say it.” He stepped into the light, and what Eliza saw made every muscle in her body tense. Run. Run, they all seemed to say.

  “Here,” she sputtered. “I didn’t realize you were in the library.”

  One half of the agent’s usually bland face had contorted with discord. No. Not just discord, but capital-D Discord. The kind that could turn someone’s entire world inside out and upside down without so much as an explanation why. His right eye bulged, bloodshot and angry while the rest of his right side sank into mere skin on bone. Just glancing at it made Eliza’s entire being feel empty and hollow.

  Not only was Agent Oliver a Descendant; he was a Descendant of Eris, the goddess of discord. And Eliza was in terrible danger.

  “You’re Discordian?” she muttered.

  “Part. On my mother’s side.”

  Eliza took a backward step toward the door. Her heart beat at a million miles an hour, and she just wanted out of there. Away from the contorted half of his face that made all the hope and light drain from her body. “I didn’t, u
h, realize.”

  “That’s because I’m three-quarters Wingless. I can only sow discord when intense emotions are present. I’m essentially useless. Or I was until you came around.” His face snapped back into shape, and Eliza breathed for the first time in what felt like minutes. Back to the same old Agent Oliver—mildly bored and moderately annoyed at all times. And just as quickly, Eliza went back to feeling like herself—moderately confused and markedly anxious about what in the worlds was happening.

  Where is Jake? She glanced at the clock. Of course, if Oliver was here and a Descendant, maybe she could explain the Egg Salad Saga debacle. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about—”

  “The Descendants’ Scroll?” He smirked. “And how I caught you red-handed trying to steal it in order to expose all the Descendants to the rest of the world?”

  “What?” She jerked backward. Why would he think that? She would never—

  He held up his phone, and with a few swipes of his finger, Eliza’s voice played through its speakers. If you can just get the key from her, I’ll do the rest.

  “That’s not what it sounds like! I swear.”

  “Funny. It sounds to me like you—a newly minted techno-Cupid—decided to take all of us public. Perhaps because you were angry that the Council wouldn’t let you charge for your techno-powers?” He lowered his voice to a dull monotone, as if offering someone condolences at a funeral. “Pity how Cupids always let power go to their silly little heads.”

  “No. That’s awful.”

  He ignored her and continued. “Or maybe because you got in a fight with that boyfriend of yours. Love really does make people act irrationally. Hmmmm.” He tapped a finger on his chin. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something.”

  Oliver had overheard her entire conversation with Jake. He knew she was a techno-Cupid, and he knew about the enchantments gone awry. “You. You’re behind Egg Salad Saga.”

  He smirked. “It’s my best work to date.”

  “But…how?”

  Oliver stared at the ceiling as he paced. “Let’s just say that a certain company wanted to sell their enchanted personal assistants in Northern California, and they were willing to do anything to make that happen. Anything.”

  “So the Mandroid company—”

  “Created Egg Salad Saga at my behest. Once we cracked the code, it was easy. Too easy, really.”

  Eliza’s mind became a funnel cloud, spinning and spinning until her thoughts became as blinding and terrifying as a tornado. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “Why are you trying to frame me?”

  “‘Frame’ is such a boring word, don’t you think?” His face switched back to the mask of discord. “I prefer something more exciting, with more syllables. Something like ‘ultimatum.’”

  Eliza backed away, desperate to put as much space between them as possible. If he wasn’t so close to the door, she’d try to make a break for it. “Agent Oliver, I don’t know what you think is happening, but—”

  “I’ll tell you what’s happening, Eliza. You are a Cupid. Cupids are the scum of the Descendants.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with the bulge of that bloodshot eye.

  “And now you—the worst of them all—are getting even more powerful? Going to make not just humans but also robots and other animals miserable with every flick of your wrist? No, thank you.”

  His words swam in front of her, crashing into her face and making it hard to breathe. “But—”

  “Exactly.” Oliver pressed the tips of his fingers together. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Because you, Eliza Herman, have a choice.”

  Something about his expression said there wasn’t much choice involved at all.

  “Option one,” he continued, “help me keep sowing discord among enchantments. It would be a match made in the heavens. With your unheard-of level of enchantment power, my inner Discordian slithers out whenever I need it. Not like all those times I had to come in behind that Van Love character. Ruining his enchantments was far more work.”

  On any other day, she would have been ecstatic to hear about Vic’s shortcomings. Today, Oliver’s words just made her feel nauseated. “Why?” she whispered.

  “Why? Why?” Oliver cackled. He’d truly gone off the deep end. “Oh, Cupids, how do I hate thee? Let us count the ways.” He held up an index finger. “There was the time all the other kids in my PSC class made fun of me for being a Wingless. Then there was senior prom, where the Cupid in my class decided to make my girlfriend fall for him. They left me standing alone at the punch bowl all night. And then there was college, when I got turned down for the Love University scholarship because of my Winglessness. Meanwhile, the asshole they gave the money to went on to start his own little family business. You may have heard of it. Herman & Herman?”

  “My father?”

  Oliver was too lost in airing his grievances to respond. “And then there was the kicker. I gave up trying to find a way to fit in with the other Descendants. Quit trying to find a way to make my mark on the world. I signed up for the California Civil Service exam and moved on with my nice, normal life. No more Descendants. I became a normal guy who blended in with all the other normal people. After twenty years with the Department of Natural Resources as an everyday bureaucrat, I’d nearly forgotten about Cupids altogether.”

  He paused and gave her a pointed look.

  Blood whooshed by her ears, making her dizzy and drowning out almost all sound. “And then?”

  “And then they transferred me to the godsforsaken Department of Affection, Seduction, and Shellfish. I’m still ten years out from retirement, and I can’t get away from you. No one even acknowledges that I’m a Descendant. But I’ve got nowhere else to go. Nothing to do except wrangle you heartbreak chasers into complying with a few measly regulations.”

  Eliza glanced over her shoulders at the long bay of windows. Where was Jake? “That’s horrible,” she tried. “I’m really sorry they transferred you like that.”

  Maybe all he needed was some sympathy. Well, sympathy and a straitjacket, but she only had one of those options to offer at the moment.

  “It’s gotten better.” He gave her a smug smile. “Once I figured out the plan.”

  “Plan?”

  “Interfere with enchantments. Create an army of unhappy customers right here in Gold Lea. Get all the Cupids to shut down or leave town completely. And it worked. I unraveled enchantments here and there until the only holdouts were Herman & Herman and Van Love. But once I got Egg Salad Saga up and running, even they were starting to fold. I knew that as soon as I got rid of them both, my office would shut its doors. No more Cupids to regulate, no more desk to sit at every day. Early-out retirement. An RV to take me away from Gold Lea once and for all. Finally!” He laughed. “I had a use for my abilities. And it was almost fun to use them. Until you came along.”

  A new white-hot rage grew within her. This one far different from the one she’d felt every time she’d looked at Jake. This one felt justified. Necessary. Laser sharp. “You’ve been interfering with my family’s enchantments?”

  “For years. Your mother is especially interesting to follow. Her enchantments always have a certain bitterness to them. Sowing discord after her is like eating the darkest chocolate—you only need the smallest bit to feel satisfied. Yours, however, are so sweet that every day feels like the day after Halloween—I end up overdoing it but can’t get enough.”

  “But I—” A new thought struck her. “Is this why I feel this way? So angry all the time?”

  He laughed and rubbed his palms together. “Oh, that would be perfect. I forgot you’d been enchanted. Have you been playing Egg Salad Saga?”

  “No.” And she hadn’t been enchanted either, but she wasn’t about to tell Oliver that.

  His face f
ell. “Then no. You must just be a bitch.”

  “Hey—”

  “You’ve been a pain in my ass from day one. At first, I thought I could give you just enough room to screw things up for yourself. I wouldn’t even need to depend on Egg Salad Saga, because you would mess everything up yourself. Then you figured out the most basic level of competence and threw me for a loop. But that’s when the fun really started. ”

  Now she really was going to be sick. She’d pictured a million scenarios where her incompetence resulted in something horrifying, but never one where being good at her job meant disaster. “What do you mean?”

  He stepped close enough for her to see blue veins beneath his pale, tissue-like skin. “I feed off of others’ emotions. Your enchantments are freakishly powerful. Which, in turn, makes my discord freakishly powerful.”

  “And?”

  “Ah, yes. You never had any appreciation for preamble.”

  Eliza pretended to make eye contact while taking in the library in her periphery. If she could make it past the receptionist’s desk, she might be able to dodge Oliver enough to sprint through the doors. “Get to the point, Oliver,” she said, shuffling slightly toward the desk.

  “The point is, I’ve realized I don’t have to limit myself to taking out Cupids in the Gold Lea area. Of course, one silly video game isn’t going to stay popular forever. And the Mandroid company doesn’t need any more favors from me. But with the help of a certain powerful techno-Cupid, I can build an empire. Sow discord anywhere. Why wait for retirement to see the world when I could do it now? With you. Picture it: digital clocks that cause divorces, air conditioners that spur the darkest arguments, cars that drive relationships straight to crazy town.”

  “No.” The words flew from her. “No way, Oliver.”

  “That’s where the ultimatum part of this comes in. I guess I’ll have to tell everyone how you died trying to get your grubby little techno-Cupid hands on the Scroll. How a Cupid was ready to reveal all of the Descendants to the world.” He picked up a chair and slammed it into the nearest display case. Glass shattered, and blue lights flashed along the ceiling. The library doors slammed shut of their own accord, and a deep voice came from overhead.