Psyche's Heart : CUPID'S MATCH BOOK 3

Chapter 9

I lay in silence for a moment - the memory of Mino's voice echoing around the small room. Cupid is here. I should be happy. But I can't shift the dread, and the darkness that rages like a tornado in my chest.

My eyes hone in on a dent in the oak beam above the bed as I try to calm the pounding of my heart. I feel unclean; like Valentine's fingers around mine as we held the knife between us somehow corrupted my soul.

We all have stains on our souls.

But no. He didn't touch me. Not really.

It was a dream. That's all.

I unclench my fingers and look at the palm of my hand where the long, thin scar still cuts across my skin.

It wasn't a dream.

What does this scar mean?

Valentine said he was showing me something I failed to see. He said he let me kill him. He said that that night in the cave he gave me something. But what?

I try to think back. I let my mind go over the events of that night - events that I've tried so hard not to think about.

I can almost smell the damp of the cave, mixed with the metallic tang of blood and the salt of the ocean. I can almost feel the resistance of Valentine's body as I plunged the Finis into his heart. I can see the box of cupid hearts that he'd locked up so he could command an army of the undead.

And I remember reaching for the key that hung around his neck...

There's another rap against the door and I flinch.

"Come along, Lila Black. We haven't got all day." Mino's booming voice fills the small room.

I take a deep breath.

"Coming," I call back - hearing the slight tremble in my voice and hoping Mino doesn't pick up on it. I was ready to tell him about Valentine last night, but now something compels me not to say anything. Not yet. Not until I know whether Valentine really is willing to help us.

That's what I tell myself anyway.

I get out of bed. There's a mirror hanging on the wall and I quickly check myself out in it. I look as disheveled as I feel.

I'm still wearing the black strappy top, and skinny jeans I'd worn yesterday, there are light purple smudges beneath my eyes, and my dark hair is a tangled mess down my shoulders. I pinch my cheeks, bringing a bit of color into them, and pull my hair into a messy bun on top of my head.

Then I trudge, barefoot, out onto the mezzanine level.

Did you miss me?

Valentine's gruff voice resounds briefly in my mind; but it's quickly drowned out by the sound of light male voices on the ground floor of the vertical labyrinth like warehouse. I step forward and peer over the edge of the balcony and the talking stops.