me hundreds of years to repay my debt."
"Oh, I do hate religious discussions. Eden wouldn't be able to turn men into zombies anyway," Cupid sighed. "Unless she kills you, Patrick. Her true love. Those are the rules."
"What rules?" Patrick said.
"The rules of the game," Cupid shrugged. "I'm just a player here, like you."
"Who made the rules?" I scowled.
"Whoever allowed you to go from being one aberration to another." Cupid said as he tapped his fingers on his chubby cheek.
"Then we'll find a way to break them," Patrick said. "Give her the bow, Cupid. Or Aoleon will let Eden grow into an old hag before our very eyes. And you and I will see her suffer for the next hundred years or so until she dies."
"No," Cupid said, his tone petulant.
"You have to give her the bow."
"I do not have to do anything."
"You must because, despite your doubts, you still believe in the life force that I've held fast to for years," Patrick said. "That which mends all things that are destroyed." Cupid harrumphed. "I care for this woman. She is the only woman in years who showed she cared for me. Who hears the voices."
"Simpleton feelings, same as…"
"Cupid," Patrick cajoled. "I know you cannot resist the idea of love. I love her. She loves me, too. And she and I are in this together." He wrapped his hand around mine, the inside of his palm feeling soft and warm. "Give her the bow."
Cupid's fist came down on the top of his desk. He hoisted his stocky little body from the chair as it squeaked in relief of his weight. Taking the bow down from its mount and delicately removing the silver arrow, Cupid ran his hand down the smooth metal that gleamed in the soft light.
"You're right, Patrick. I cannot resist." He placed the arrow in the bow, cradling the flexible band of the bow between the divots in the tail of the arrow and running his hand down the edge lovingly. He turned toward me and smiled widely, pulling the band of the bow back and sending an arrow flying in the direction of my heart.
"No!" Patrick shouted.
Chapter Eight
In a haze, I heard Patrick swearing as Cupid responded to him in a nonchalant tone. A swarm of emotions coursed through me as I lay on my back on the floor, the warmth of my blood seeping out and wetting my hair. "Only vampires bleed like that," Cupid shrugged. "A human wouldn't have felt a thing." The amber light on his phone lit up. "Excuse me a moment," Cupid said as he lumbered to the desk and picked up the phone.
"Halloo? Oh yes...the interview. Could you kindly reschedule for tomorrow? You know I only get up when the sun is up. The conference room. Of course the one with the mirrors. Ten is good. Thank you. Uh-huh. Yes. Thank you." Cupid gently placed the phone back on its cradle.
My voice rasped with a feeling of gravel in my throat. "Why?" I asked Patrick.
"You'll be all right," he said. He leaned down over me and pulled slightly on the arrow. I exhaled sharply, anticipating great pain but feeling only a slight pinch as the arrow slid out of my chest with a slurping noise. Bending my chin to my chest, I stared at the wound as the gash sealed closed. The space between my breasts looked whole again, as if the wound never even existed. I leaped to my feet with agility.
"What the hell was that?" I demanded.
"That was test one," Patrick said. "I'm sorry, Eden. He had to see how far gone you were. Had you changed completely, you would have become very dangerous to us. The arrow would have killed you. As it is, you are still half-human and capable of love."
I turned to Cupid. "I came to you guys for help and you shoot me like I'm some kind of deer. Jesus Christ! I'm getting the hell out of here."
"What about Aoleon?" Cupid asked.
"What about her! It's you she's looking for, and the feds are looking for her, and Patrick is looking for someone to feed to her. Whatever beef you might have has nothing to do with me." I ran my fingers through my locks, coated with blood. "Your problems have become my
"Oh, I do hate religious discussions. Eden wouldn't be able to turn men into zombies anyway," Cupid sighed. "Unless she kills you, Patrick. Her true love. Those are the rules."
"What rules?" Patrick said.
"The rules of the game," Cupid shrugged. "I'm just a player here, like you."
"Who made the rules?" I scowled.
"Whoever allowed you to go from being one aberration to another." Cupid said as he tapped his fingers on his chubby cheek.
"Then we'll find a way to break them," Patrick said. "Give her the bow, Cupid. Or Aoleon will let Eden grow into an old hag before our very eyes. And you and I will see her suffer for the next hundred years or so until she dies."
"No," Cupid said, his tone petulant.
"You have to give her the bow."
"I do not have to do anything."
"You must because, despite your doubts, you still believe in the life force that I've held fast to for years," Patrick said. "That which mends all things that are destroyed." Cupid harrumphed. "I care for this woman. She is the only woman in years who showed she cared for me. Who hears the voices."
"Simpleton feelings, same as…"
"Cupid," Patrick cajoled. "I know you cannot resist the idea of love. I love her. She loves me, too. And she and I are in this together." He wrapped his hand around mine, the inside of his palm feeling soft and warm. "Give her the bow."
Cupid's fist came down on the top of his desk. He hoisted his stocky little body from the chair as it squeaked in relief of his weight. Taking the bow down from its mount and delicately removing the silver arrow, Cupid ran his hand down the smooth metal that gleamed in the soft light.
"You're right, Patrick. I cannot resist." He placed the arrow in the bow, cradling the flexible band of the bow between the divots in the tail of the arrow and running his hand down the edge lovingly. He turned toward me and smiled widely, pulling the band of the bow back and sending an arrow flying in the direction of my heart.
"No!" Patrick shouted.
Chapter Eight
In a haze, I heard Patrick swearing as Cupid responded to him in a nonchalant tone. A swarm of emotions coursed through me as I lay on my back on the floor, the warmth of my blood seeping out and wetting my hair. "Only vampires bleed like that," Cupid shrugged. "A human wouldn't have felt a thing." The amber light on his phone lit up. "Excuse me a moment," Cupid said as he lumbered to the desk and picked up the phone.
"Halloo? Oh yes...the interview. Could you kindly reschedule for tomorrow? You know I only get up when the sun is up. The conference room. Of course the one with the mirrors. Ten is good. Thank you. Uh-huh. Yes. Thank you." Cupid gently placed the phone back on its cradle.
My voice rasped with a feeling of gravel in my throat. "Why?" I asked Patrick.
"You'll be all right," he said. He leaned down over me and pulled slightly on the arrow. I exhaled sharply, anticipating great pain but feeling only a slight pinch as the arrow slid out of my chest with a slurping noise. Bending my chin to my chest, I stared at the wound as the gash sealed closed. The space between my breasts looked whole again, as if the wound never even existed. I leaped to my feet with agility.
"What the hell was that?" I demanded.
"That was test one," Patrick said. "I'm sorry, Eden. He had to see how far gone you were. Had you changed completely, you would have become very dangerous to us. The arrow would have killed you. As it is, you are still half-human and capable of love."
I turned to Cupid. "I came to you guys for help and you shoot me like I'm some kind of deer. Jesus Christ! I'm getting the hell out of here."
"What about Aoleon?" Cupid asked.
"What about her! It's you she's looking for, and the feds are looking for her, and Patrick is looking for someone to feed to her. Whatever beef you might have has nothing to do with me." I ran my fingers through my locks, coated with blood. "Your problems have become my
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