Psyche's Heart : CUPID'S MATCH BOOK 3

Chapter 51

Charlie and I sit cross-legged on the bed in Cupid's spare room. The white bedspread beneath us is practically invisible beneath the rainbow of glittering dresses that Charlie has laid out around us.

"How do you even have all these?" I ask – running my hand over the sequins of a silver one. "They look really expensive."

"Being a cupid has its perks," says Charlie with a smirk. She points at me. "Now, don't change the subject. Tell me everything. Then we'll get onto the dresses."

"Wow – you want to talk about something before fashion? Who are you and what have you done to Charlie?!"

Her big brown eyes meet mine and she raises an eyebrow – the corner of her lip quirking up. And I realize it was probably a weird thing to say seeing as she is probably wondering the same thing about me; I share a life thread with Psyche, and I just brought an army of the dead back from the Underworld. . .

I rub my temple. "It's all kind of hard to explain," I say.

"Try."

I exhale, then nod. "Okay. After I opened that box, I've felt so. . . different. All these memories and feelings came flooding back. I shouldn't have sided with Valentine – even if it was only brief. But for a moment he felt like the only real, solid thing. Like an anchor – something that was somehow keeping me grounded. I know it's weird."

"You care about him? About Valentine?"

"I feel a . . . connection with him," I say. "Or at least part of me does. But maybe it's the old part of me; maybe it's Psyche. And the thing is. . . " I shake my head – wondering whether to admit something to her. "I'm not sure I disagree with everything he stands for. I still have this feeling that getting rid of the Cupids Matchmaking Service wouldn't be a bad thing."

"But ending the world?!"

I sigh. "Maybe Psyche wanted that. But not me."

She looks down at the bed - running a silky black scarf through her fingers. "I know what you're going through, you know? I mean – not exactly – but I changed too."

"When you were hit by the cupid arrow . . ." I say, softly.

She nods. "When the poison from the arrow ran most strongly through my veins it made me think and feel things I'd never felt before. I was like a different person. I hated you. So much I tried to attack you, remember? My feelings for James changed. And I would have done anything to serve Venus."

"How did you get through it?" I ask.

She shrugs. "It was hard. It still is sometimes. I never asked for this." She sighs. "You know – when I was trapped in the Sim before the trial? I was exposed to my worst nightmare."

"Yeah. You said it was an eternal history class with no boys," I say. "But you were lying."

She nods – shifting on the mattress, fiddling with the slip of black material.