Psyche's Heart : CUPID'S MATCH BOOK 3

Chapter 45

"Hey, kiddo!" Charon is leaning by the black roped rigging as I step onto deck – booted feet crossed, and arms folded against his slender chest.

I give him my iciest glare. "You were supposed to help us."

He pushes off from the post and shrugs – patting the small leather satchel by his waist. "I go where the money is. And I'm true to my word. Your friends will get passage on the next Ferry. But the boss has ordered this one and Cal didn't give me near enough to defy a direct order from the God of the Dead."

The rumbling of marching feet sounds from behind me. I walk to the side of the ferry, placing the box at my feet, and peer over. Mino and Valentine are talking. But I only focus on that for a split second – my attention consumed by something far greater.

The army of the dead are here.

There are hundreds of them, spilling out of the courthouse at the end of the pier, and making their way towards us. Their footsteps are as loud as thunder. They're a mixture of genders – each wearing silver and black Roman style helmets that bite down the center of their faces, and thin black armored suits that cling to their bodies.

They don't look dead – not like Valentine's cupid army. But they don't seem quite alive either. It's their movements I think – rhythmic, yet fluid. They radiate power.

Meg leads them up another ramp that Charon has extended down onto the pier and across the black boards towards a door leading below deck.

I watch the progress of one – a tall, wiry male. His skin seems to be stretched tightly over his bones – paper thin to the extent I can see gleaming white bone beneath. When his head snaps towards me and I meet his cold, unblinking eyes, ice seems to crackle through my veins and mingle with the darkness.

"They're quite something, aren't they?" says Valentine – coming to stand beside me.

"Yes. They are."

I feel his eyes on me for a moment. Then he sighs and walks away – joining Mino and Charon by the rigging. I continue to watch the army until all of them are aboard.

"Come on, kiddo. I'll show you to one of the private cabins. You look like hell."

I turn to face Charon. "Oh, thanks. So nice of you to say . . "

There's a flash of white teeth as he grins. "Anytime."

I pick up the box then follow him across the deck – not looking at Valentine but feeling his eyes on me as I pass him by. Charon leads me through a door by one of the cages on deck, and we descend into a small, damp corridor. He opens a door to the left and gestures I go inside.

"You know, we met before, kiddo?" says Charon as I enter a small space – strangely cosy with a red comforter over the single bed, an embroidered cushion on the small armchair in the corner, and a candle flicking light about the space from a small table in the center of the room.