Arrows

Authors: Melissa Gorzelanczyk

BOOK: Arrows

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Gorzelanczyk, Melissa.

Arrows / Melissa Gorzelanczyk. — First edition.

pages cm

Summary: Dance prodigy Karma Clark’s unrequited love for Danny is unbearable until Aaryn, son of Cupid, tries to fix his mistake and ends up falling in love with the beautiful dancer from Wisconsin who can never love him in return.

ISBN 978-0-553-51044-7 (hc) — ISBN 978-0-553-51045-4 (glb) — ISBN 978-0-553-51046-1 (ebook)

[1. Love—Fiction. 2. Dancers—Fiction 3. Gods, Greek—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.1.G67Ar 2016

[Fic]—dc23

2015008992

eBook ISBN 9780553510461

Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

v4.1

Contents

FOR SHEA,

whose love empowered me

We landed at the edge of a high school parking lot, me with two arrows in my pack. Phoebe let go of my hand to scope out the area, appearing indestructible as she lifted her bow.

“Okay, Aaryn,” she said. We’d just met five minutes earlier, though she was one of the cupids all the students had heard about. She gestured with her chin. “Them.”

Arcs of golden light swam through the arrow she nocked into her bow, and when she retracted, the fletching made a dent against her cheek. Her kohl-lined eyes focused on a couple standing by the door of the high school, dressed up for their homecoming dance. They had no idea what was coming.

The girl, a short redhead in stilettos, darted quick glances at her date, who was wiping his palms on his suit pants. Freakishly tall, that guy.

Phoebe paused. With a snap, a glittery path tore through the air. The arrow disintegrated with a burst of light through the boy’s tie. Phoebe half smiled as her arms relaxed.

“Well, Son of Eros—have you ever experienced the arrows like this?” she asked.

“No. Just target practice. Dead arrows.”

She stood beside me, and for a second I felt awesome, getting one of the prettiest goddesses as my proctor.

“How cool is it that we ended up together on finals day?” She winked. “You’re just the god I was hoping to get.”

“Oh, uh, really?”

“Mm-hmm. Tonight is definitely helping my status.”

“Glad to hear it.” I cleared my throat, anxious to get on with the test. She seemed cool, though. Maybe she’d want to get to know me once I graduated.

With a satisfied smile, Phoebe placed a second arrow against the silver wire and brought the redhead into her sights. She did this little square-up-and-hesitate thing with her shoulders. The arrow flew and disappeared. Direct hit.

Things got pretty ridiculous from there. The teens held each other for a long time, the guy bending to her height, smoothing her hair out of the way so they could have an all-out tongue war. And then the reality of it all struck me.

Love was beginning to unfold out there, actual love. No one else in the world would matter as much to them as they did to each other. Two humans who hadn’t even reached adulthood, who’d barely started to learn about life, and they’d already found their soul mates. In Lakefield, Wisconsin, of all places.

I scanned the parking lot, which was as dead as the nearby farm field. “Who am I supposed to shoot?”

“Well.” Phoebe smiled. “I was thinking I should help you find the perfect couple. That’s not my job, just so you know—but I’d love to do a little favor for you. Eros would appreciate that, I’m sure.”

“I’m going to check out the school.”

“You can’t open the doors.”

“No one’s around,” I said.

“Aaryn. Wait. You know the code.”

I rocked on my heels, annoyed that she was right. The code about not opening doors was one of many the gods followed.
Never draw attention to yourself among humans.
A door opening by itself? Humans got creeped out by stuff like that.

Then another girl’s voice. I swung my quiver around on the leather strap across my chest. Two more teens were there. The girl, a brunette, threw her arms around the redhead—shocker, she’d stopped kissing the tall guy—then leapt to catch up to
her
date, some idiot wearing a suit coat and baseball cap. A real romantic.

I slid an arrow from my pack. It glowed brightly, a steady, vibrant orange.

“Ready to join the ranks?” Phoebe asked. Pride filled her voice. The light from my arrow cast shadows beneath her eyes.

And my targets? Too easy under that powerful parking lot light. The girl was smiling, acting like her date was the most interesting person in the world, though she seemed like the interesting one: athletic body shown off by an airy pink dress.

I snorted under my breath as the guy’s voice carried into the darkness. “You’re so sexy, Karma,” he said. Ha. What a name. Humans actually believed in stuff like karma. Mr. Romantic pulled her in, massaging her back as they kissed, his hands creeping lower and lower until they curved over her ass.

I sighed, then closed one eye. Everything around me blurred except the girl. This was it. My first match. The metal between my fingers glowing, the power to change someone’s life forever. Yes, I was the son of Eros, privileged, but like everyone else at finals, this match was the beginning of my legacy. For a second my chest felt like it was going to explode.

I let go.

The arrow melted into the girl’s back, a bull’s-eye shot. The effect was immediate. She gasped when the kiss ended and her hands slid up his neck, slow and slinky. The power of the enchantment had struck. I drew out my last arrow, which had been matched as a pair. The arrows were made that way—made for each other, just like their targets.

“What the hell—” I held the arrow up. It wasn’t glowing.

Phoebe started as I flicked my thumb on the blunt end. “Wait a minute, is that…?” She snatched the arrow and shook it, like that might help. “A practice arrow? Is this some kind of joke?”

The guy began to lead his lovesick date into the back of a pickup truck.

“There’s still time, right?” I said. “Let’s just head back for a replacement arrow. There must be some record of the pair.”

Our eyes met as we checked the Hive, our social web, accessible to us with a single thought. One thought—a power button—and we controlled a galaxy of information with our minds. The rectangular display inside my mind lit up, ready to search.

“No way.” The arrow ration house had closed seven minutes ago.

Phoebe’s hands covered her mouth.

“How could this happen? I can’t let you go to Blackout, Aaryn, I can’t. This is—”

“Don’t get crazy. I’m not going to Blackout. Dad wouldn’t let them do that.”

“This is serious. You can’t pass finals. You really can’t pass. Leaving a human like this, only one of them shot, it’s like—the worst possible failure.” She made a wild hand motion. “This is going to ruin me.”

“Jeez, don’t panic yet.”

“I’m not panicking!”

Perfect. I twisted the end of my bow against the pavement, though I had to admit my pulse had sped up.

Blackout.

Where the failed gods go.

“How could you forget to grab a matching pair?” Her voice was getting shrill.

“Relax. This isn’t my fault.”

“You didn’t let your pack out of your sight, right?”