Cupid’s Misfire (3 page)

Aja wanted to scream but she couldn’t. Everything happened so fast she had no breath in her to react. Cupid tensed above her—she thought simply with the intensity of his climax—but then huge, feathered wings appeared behind him, as if they had burst from him in their full, feathered glory.

They were beautiful wings—white and iridescent colors combined, throwing back the light like mother of pearl. But no matter how lovely they were, they weren’t exactly the kind of thing she’d expected to see.

“What the...” she began, but before she could finish, he told her to hold on, and then darkness closed around them

Holy God, what is this, what is this...

But before the panic could quite swallow her whole, the light returned, and they were..

Somewhere. Somewhere
else
.

The light was a strange color—almost lavender—and the floor beneath them seemed to be made of gold. They definitely weren’t in her bedroom anymore, or her bed where they’d just boned each other silly. Aja had no idea where they were.

Cupid, who’d been on top of her—hell, inside her—just moments before now lay sprawled on the floor in front of her, naked, with the huge wings arching up from his shoulder blades in great arcs of mother of pearl.

At the sight of his nakedness, Aja looked frantically down at herself. She of course had been just as bare as he’d been when—whatever—had happened. But now she was covered with a sleek drape of cloth almost as golden as the floor. It was bound around her with silver cords just below her breasts and crossed down to cinch her hips. It was beautiful, felt glorious, and she had no idea where it had come from.

At her feet, her erstwhile lover struggled to a sitting position. He lifted the wings behind him and unfolded them, shaking out the feathers. His shoulders hunched forward as if he were in pain.

“Eros.” The voice rang around them, echoing from the floor and the walls. Aja stared. Where had the voice come from? Then, as abruptly as everything else had changed around them, another figure appeared, sitting in a huge throne against the wall just behind Cupid.

“Zeus.” Cupid’s voice sounded harsh, torn from his throat. He pressed his hands to his knees, curving his back again, then pushed to his feet. He seemed unconcerned with his nudity, even facing the intimidating figure on the throne.

Zeus, he’d said. Zeus and...Cupid? Eros? Aja was lost. How could any of this be real? How had the man in her bed suddenly sprouted wings? And where had the clothes come from that now covered her?

It’s a dream,
she thought.
I fell asleep, and it’s just a dream.

But something in her knew full well that it wasn’t.

* * *

Cupid pushed to his feet, feeling the weight of the movement in every muscle. Everything ached. There was no reason for it, except...

The wings behind him nearly dragged him over. Even in the last few hours, he’d gotten used to them being gone. Quickly, he regained his balance. The last thing he wanted to do was sprawl ignominiously across the golden tile of the throne room of Olympus.

For that was where they were—in the throne room on Olympus. Not all of it had properly materialized yet, but that was Zeus for you. He was never quite ready for company. Not even, apparently, when he’d summoned that company himself.

“Eros,” Zeus said again. “We must have words.”

Cupid shrugged, shifting a wing back into place. The gesture had the added benefit of making him appear not to care much about what Zeus had to say. Or maybe that wasn’t a benefit. Zeus’ expression became dark and thundery. “Go ahead, then,” Cupid told him. “Talk to me.”

Zeus’ gaze shot briefly over Cupid’s shoulder, taking in Aja behind him. “Alone,” the god said.

Cupid glanced back. Aja appeared remarkably calm and self-possessed, almost as if she hadn’t been suddenly zapped into another dimension halfway across the planet—sort of, maybe, in a quantum sense—in the blink of an eye. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

Turning his attention back to Zeus, Cupid gave the elder god a baleful glare. “She’d better be.”

“Or what? You’ll flap your feathers at me?”

Aja cocked her hip and crossed her arms over her chest, giving Zeus a look that could have felled a lesser man. Not that much lesser, though. Cupid was certain she’d perfected that look on 300-pound football players.

“Fine,” Zeus capitulated. “She’ll be fine.”

With one last glance at Aja, Cupid followed Zeus through a door that had conveniently popped into existence a few seconds before. Past it was Zeus’ private lounge, which had been about a quarter mile to the east last time Cupid had been here.

“Have a seat,” Zeus said, waving toward the luxurious couches.

“No.” Cupid stood his ground, arms crossed. And naked, which possibly reduced the impact a bit. Or increased it. He couldn’t say. But this was Olympus, where nakedness was more the norm than not.

Zeus’ expression radiated disapproval, but he gave Cupid a curt nod. “You’ve broken your vows.”

“I haven’t.”

“You used your arrows for personal gain.”

“I did not.”

Zeus slammed a hand down on the marble top of the table next to him. The marble cracked wide, then quickly repaired itself, almost as if it were afraid Zeus would be angry with it if it stayed broken.

“Do not stand there and lie to me. You shot this woman with your arrows for your own benefit. That is not how your duties work.”

“I didn’t. The arrow turned and struck me.”

“You lie. That’s impossible. You shot this woman and—”

“No, he didn’t.”

Cupid spun. Aja had come in behind them. God, but she was beautiful. And the way she stood, the way she had her head back and her chin up, her arms crossed firmly under those beautiful, gold-clad breasts... She looked more than sufficient to challenge the Lord of Olympus.

“You were told to wait outside,” Zeus rumbled. The floor rumbled, too, thunder rolling through the cold stone.

“Look.” Aja’s posture shifted, one hand cocked defiantly on her hip. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you need to shut up right now.”

Zeus blinked. “I am—”

“I said I didn’t know. I did not say I cared.” Aja took a firm step forward. Cupid smiled. She could have challenged Hera herself right now, with her flashing eyes and her complete self-confidence. “Now. Obviously there’s a hell of a lot going on here that I don’t understand, but I do understand this—this man did not shoot me with any arrows of any sort.”

“He’s Cupid,” Zeus shot back. “You wouldn’t necessarily know.”

“Oh, I would know.” She stepped forward to stand at Cupid’s side. He wanted to reach out to touch her, to wrap an arm around her and draw her close, but he resisted the urge. “I found him laying naked on the sidewalk, and I made sure he got to the hospital. I don’t know if I believe all this Cupid and Zeus shit, but if that’s what we’re dealing with, then I’m certain there were no happy love arrows flung in my direction.”

“But—”

Zeus wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise, that much was obvious. “I didn’t even like him when I first saw him. Does that meet your criteria for arrow-shot?”

“Well, I don’t—”

“In fact, it was Cupid who looked all smitten.” She eyed him up and down, almost dispassionately, as if coming to a sudden understanding. “Yeah. He
did
shoot himself. Nothing else makes sense.”

A dark, bubbling cloud of annoyance had formed over Zeus’ head. “You shot yourself deliberately,” he accused, glaring at Cupid.

“I most certainly did not.”

Leaning forward, Zeus glared directly into Cupid’s eyes. “Step forward.”

“Don’t you let him boss you around,” said Aja.

Cupid grinned. He would have loved her even without the arrows, especially right at this moment. She was... She was perfect. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt me.”

“Like Hades I won’t.” But Zeus’ mutter was mostly bluster. Cupid stepped forward.

Almost gently, Zeus laid a hand on Cupid’s chest. He was silent a moment. Cupid tried not to breathe. He could feel the arrow shards shifting inside him, but they felt smaller than they had before. At Zeus’ touch, they seemed to fade still more. Warmth spread through Cupid’s chest along with a strange, melting sensation. Zeus frowned.

“The arrow...”

“It’s there,” Cupid shot back. “I told you I was telling the truth.”

“There is no precedent for this.” Zeus turned his sharp gaze to Aja. “Come here.”

“You want to ask that again nicely?”

She was gorgeous. Just stunning, Cupid thought. Who else would have stood up to Zeus like that? With that fire in her eyes, her posture straight and sure, almost like a goddess herself. Zeus drew himself up, staring at her in disbelief. “You would speak to me that way? To me? I am a god!”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to say please.”

For a moment, Cupid thought Zeus’ head was going to explode. Then, his eyes sparking, tiny bolts of lightning flowing from his fingertips, he said, “Come forward, if you please.”

“That’s better.” Aja stepped forward, as regal as Hera, as beautiful as when Cupid had seen her for the first time...

Before the arrow had misfired. He blinked and pressed a hand against his chest. The arrow shards stirred but they were no more than splinters now.

Zeus was leaning forward, his face inches from Aja’s, staring directly into her eyes. Aja held her ground, an almost haughty expression on her face. Suddenly Zeus laid a hand between her breasts.

“Hey!” Aja protested. “Bad touching!” She slapped the god’s hand, hard enough Cupid winced. Zeus’ only reaction was to lean back in his throne and eye her contemplatively, folding his hands under his chin.

“Interesting,” he said. “Very interesting.”

“There was no arrow,” Aja said. “Nothing that got shot at me, anyway. And I think I’d know.”

“Not necessarily.” Zeus rubbed a finger along his upper lip. “These are Cupid’s arrows we’re talking about, after all. But no. There was no arrow for you.” Again, he glanced at Cupid, then back at Aja. “Tell me,” he said, though it wasn’t clear which of them he was addressing. “What was your emotion when you first saw each other?”

Aja looked confused, as if uncertain of her response, or of whether she was supposed to respond at all. Cupid, though, knew exactly what his answer was. “I loved her immediately. Before the arrow misfired. I saw her there, so beautiful, and I knew...” He trailed off. What had he known?

Zeus’ gaze narrowed. “You influenced the flight of the arrow”

“No. No, I don’t think I did.”

“Why are we so hung up on this arrow thing?” Aja demanded. “There was no arrow.”

“There was,” Cupid explained gently. “It took me in the heart. I don’t know who it was meant for, but it came to me.”

“Maybe it was meant for you.” Aja’s expression softened. “Maybe it did exactly what it was supposed to do.” She moved closer. “Cupid... You’re, like, the real Cupid, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “I am. For millennia, I have wielded my arrows, bringing true love to mortals...” He stopped as she waved him off.

“Fine. I don’t care about that.” She affixed her gaze once again to Zeus. “What I do care about is you sticking your big nose in like this is any of your business.” Zeus opened his mouth to form a retort, but Aja wasn’t done. “This is between him and me, and frankly, I want to see how things go.” She moved a little closer, sliding one arm around Cupid’s elbow. His wings fluttered in response to the touch. “Cause, Mr. Zeus, I’m thinking I kind of like him.”