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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.

Making Love

Copyright © 2017 by Aidan Wayne

Cover art: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

Editor: Sarah Lyons

Layout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at marketing@riptidepublishing.com.

ISBN: 978-1-62649-535-7

First edition

January, 2017

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Carla the cupid is an excellent shot, but her chemistry is so bad that most of her matches don’t last. Her dream is to shoot a True Love pair, but until her scores improve, she’s relegated to the Puppy Love division of Aphrodite Agency.

Leeta, a succubus, is looking for a True Love match. Which is highly unusual, as most succubi are aromantic. But Aphrodite Agency—her only hope—turns her away because the receptionist can’t believe she’s not just looking for an easy meal.

Carla agrees to take Leeta’s case on freelance. She figures it’s a win-win: Carla gets to put a succubus’s True Love match on her résumé, and Leeta gets to find her True Love! Except as Carla tries to find a match for Leeta, she finds herself maybe . . . relieved when the matches don’t end well. And Leeta seems to be getting pickier and pickier. Things will never work out until Carla learns enough about chemistry to figure out who’s truly best for Leeta, and until Leeta can admit what—or who—she truly wants.

About Making Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Dear Reader

Also by Aidan Wayne

About the Author

More like this

Carla hopped out of the elevator, black curls bouncing, as she pulled open the door to the central office. She practically skipped up to the front desk.

“Morning, Tristan!”

Tristan looked up from his computer to grin at her. “Morning, sweetheart. Ready for your quarterly review?”

Carla blushed. “Don’t jinx me! I’m not a Sweetheart yet. But I’ve got a good feeling this time! At last check-in, one of the couples I hit made it to the two month mark, so . . .”

“Two, huh?” Tristan nodded encouragingly. “That’s—that’s good. I mean, two, hey, that’s great. That’s practically years, in high school time.”

“I really like the Puppy Love division,” Carla babbled on, trying to cover the flip-flops she’d felt at Tristan’s response, “but I’ve been in it for so long. I’ve been dreaming of being a Sweetheart cupid for ages. It’s so much more romantic, and it’s better when you’re working with older targets, and that’s just one step behind True Love, and there’s so much overlap anyway—”

“Breathe, Carla.”

Carla obligingly closed her mouth, taking a deep breath through her nose. Her wings fluttered anxiously.

“You’ll be fine,” Tristan said, with a warm smile. “You’re a hard worker, and you love what you do. That counts for a lot here.”

“Yeah . . .”

Tristan glanced back down at his computer. “Looks like Angel’s ready for you. Remember, think cupid: caring confidence—”

“—because we’re confident we care,” Carla finished. She gave Tristan a thumbs-up. “Wish me luck!”

Tristan matched her, then nodded his head toward Angel’s office. Carla skipped to it, trying to make herself feel as positive as she could, and went inside.

“Good morning, Carla,” Angel said. The head of Aphrodite Agency waved her to a chair. “Please take a seat.”

Carla hurried forward and sat in the low-backed chair, her quiver just brushing the top of it. “Morning, Angel! I’m here for my quarterly review.” And possible promotion. Please, please, please, possible promotion!

Angel nodded. “Yes. And you worked very hard this quarter.” The cupid shuffled through some papers. “You almost made your quota this time.”

“Almost?” Carla faltered. “But I thought—”

“Well, you were close! It just looks like five or six of your solo arrows didn’t take.” Angel made a mark on another piece of paper. “I think it’s just about time for you to take another training class in chemistry, but otherwise we’re on the right track. I’ll put you back on partner work with a Matchmaker for the time being, and if all your matches stay together by next evaluation, I’ll take you off your current probation.”

“Oh.” Carla looked at her shoes. “Thank you. But I thought I was off probation. Um, my last one.”

“It was reinstated last quarter, remember? You spent two weeks of solo work trying to match your target with that little aromantic girl.”

Carla swallowed. She had tried to forget about that. It hadn’t ended well for anyone. “Oh. Right. Okay.” She took a breath and just went for it. “What about my application?”

“. . . Yes, I saw that you submitted an application to be transferred up to Sweetheart.” Angel sighed. “I’m sorry, Carla, but my prior decision still stands. You do decently when you’re working with another cupid, but you still don’t meet the solo Puppy Love quota regularly enough to be moved anywhere else.”

“But— I hit everyone dead-on. I’m a really good shot.”

Angel nodded. “Yes. But frankly, Carla, that’s the only reason I haven’t reassigned you back to Playful Banter. When you were training and working with a team, everything went well. When you’re partnering with a Matchmaker, you exceed expectations. But you’re still having trouble with chemistry, and that’s the most important part of working solo.”

The phone rang, startling Carla so badly that her wings almost took her out of the chair.

“Excuse me.” Angel smiled at her and picked up the phone “This is Angel.”

Carla let her thoughts drift as Angel took the call. Matchmakers worked with Requests, the people who came to Aphrodite Agency specifically for a match. They had nothing to do with Random Matches, the people who just pinged ready for love, or trial runs of it, like Puppy Love. Even though Matchmakers were cupids themselves, they focused exclusively on chemistry and didn’t use arrows of their own to shoot. That task was left to other cupids whose marksmanship was good enough to shoot in the exact right moment. Cupids like Carla.

And there was nothing wrong with matching up Requests! Often they were people who had been in a Sweetheart relationship that didn’t evolve into True Love, and had come to the agency looking for more. Carla was always happy to see them eventually get a True Love match.

But her dream was to find True Love for Random Matches. There was something so romantic about two people meeting eyes and just knowing they were destined to be together. True Love was wonderful no matter how it evolved, but Random Matches were special. No one came in and planned to meet someone; it just . . . happened.

That is, if things evolved right. A cupid’s arrow only held the Spark of Interest. It got two (or more, depending on the situation) targets thinking about love and started them on the path toward True Love. But not every Spark grew into a Flame; if the chemistry wasn’t there, the Spark fizzled. That was the whole point of Puppy Love: it was a trial run, and a way for Aphrodite Agency to collect chemistry data so they could eventually form a True Love match.

Carla glanced up. Angel was still talking on the phone. Her eyes fell to the folder on Angel’s desk, and she sighed.

Carla was . . . not so good at chemistry. Her parents used to say that she’d been born with an arrow in her hand, conjuring them up to match up her dolls and friends (luckily the actual magic in arrows that caused Sparks didn’t develop until after puberty). But she just couldn’t get her arrows for Puppy Love to take long enough to collect data. Puppy Love matches were supposed to last two to ten months usually. Carla’s record was two months.

“Carla?”

Carla startled and looked up again. Angel was watching her over clasped hands.

“I—I know I’m not the best cupid ever,” she blurted out, “and that I’m not the best at making my quota, but I think it’s partly because I know the matches I make aren’t meant to last. I just know that if I got assigned to a long-term Sweetheart project, I’d do so much better . . .”

Angel frowned. “Carla, you know that’s not how it works. Every match should be treated like it’s top tier, because there’s always the possibility that it will be. Is there a special arrow for the True Love sector?”

Carla shook her head. “No. No, I know there isn’t. It’s all about the right person, the right chemistry, and the right moment.”

“Exactly.” Angel nodded. “And that is all about understanding your targets and tailoring your choices. You can’t just point and shoot. People don’t work that way. The Spark is going to fizzle if the chemistry isn’t there, even if everything else is spot-on.” Angel held out a card. “Report tomorrow for training. Once you finish your week, I’ll pair you with a Matchmaker. Everyone you’ve worked with in the past has expressed interest in working with you again. They’ve all been very impressed.”

“Oh, that’s . . . that’s nice.” Her wings fluttered anxiously, and she forced them to stop. “I’m glad that they think I do good work.”

Angel smiled at her. “It might be worth reconsidering that permanent partnership with the matchmaking division. There are a number of split-second opportunities that could use your targeting skills.”

Carla managed a watery smile, trying to take the compliment for what it was.

Permanent placement with a Matchmaker meant more chances to be part of a True Love match but . . . she wanted to be assigned to Random Matches. To find love for people who hadn’t even been looking for it or didn’t know they could. Aphrodite Agency was open to all magic and fae creatures, but it wasn’t as though humans could walk through their doors to request a match. And they deserved love just as much as anyone else. Carla loved to work with humans, knowing that she would help them find matches even if they couldn’t request them. “I’ll think about it, Angel. Thank you.”

“Good. You’d be of much use to them.” Angel nodded a final time, and then returned to the papers on the desk, a clear dismissal. Carla got up and carefully walked out, holding herself stiff so that she didn’t start to cry.

“You’d be of much use to them”? Meaning you’re not so much use right now, on your own.

When she shut the door and glanced at Tristan, he took one look at her and got up.

“Did it not go well?” he asked softly.

“I’m still not fit to work solo,” Carla said, looking up to keep her tears in. “And if I can’t work solo, I can’t be a Sweetheart. Angel wants to pair me permanently with Matchmaking. They pick the targets, I just point and shoot.” She was crying, she was crying, and she didn’t want to. “I’ll be right back.”

Carla didn’t bother with running, just flew into the bathroom and locked herself in. She spent a few minutes trying not to sob. Well. Trying not to sob too loudly. When she managed to get ahold of herself, she wobbled up to the sink and grasped the sides, staring into the mirror.

It wasn’t fair. She tried so hard when she was on her own. She listened to her targets and observed what they were like, who they liked, and when she thought she’d gotten the perfect match, she took aim and fired. But while the Matchmakers and other Shooters always seemed to know who would work best paired with whom, none of Carla’s own choices ever lasted long enough to be worthwhile.

All she ever wanted was a chance to make a True Love match. To be responsible for that kind of relationship between her targets. She’d managed it a few times when partnered with a Matchmaker, but it had never been her own success. When she’d first started at the agency, she hadn’t minded, but after a while . . .

It was like getting praised for making a delicious cake, when all you did was turn on the oven. Sure, without you the cake wouldn’t have gotten baked, but anyone can push a button. The real mastery came from putting the right ingredients together.

Carla stared resolutely into the mirror and shook her head, tight curls bouncing. No, no, she’d take this as a good opportunity. If she paid really close attention to her Matchmaking partner, maybe she’d be able to learn more about what went into making the right choices. She’d do the best job she could, get off probation, and become part of the Sweetheart division!

She nodded resolutely, patted her hair bows, and marched out of the bathroom.

Tristan was waiting at his desk when she emerged.

“Feeling okay?” He handed her a chocolate square.

Carla took it with a hesitant smile. “Yeah. I mean, I have to be. I’m never going to get better if I stick with being sad. I’ll learn from the Matchmakers, and I’m going to ask every question I can think of, and I’m going to make a True Love match. On my own!”

“That’s the spirit,” Tristan said cheerfully.

“Excuse me,” another voice interrupted, cool as silk. “Do I have the right department?”

Tristan and Carla both turned as a woman walked up to the front desk. She was tall and slender, with brown skin and razor-straight black hair, two little brown horns poking up through it. The woman’s hips swayed as she walked, a long, thin tail just barely brushing the floor behind her. She didn’t walk so much as swish, every inch radiating aloof confidence.

“That depends,” Tristan said carefully, moving back behind his desk. “What department are you looking for?”

“I want to speak with Angel,” the woman said. “I have a request.”

“Name?” Tristan was frowning at his computer. “And regarding what?”

“Leeta Absinthe.” A smile. “I wish to contract a Matchmaker’s services.”

“I see.” Tristan looked up at her, smile bland and brittle. Carla barely even recognized him. What was she missing here? “Well, Miss Absinthe, regrettably Aphrodite Agency does not do contract work with your kind. We are not a catering service. Good day.”

Leeta’s eyes glittered, and she leaned forward over the desk, tail lashing behind her. “I assure you, I have no trouble at all securing my meals—” she glanced down at the nameplate on the desk “—Tristan.” She said his name like it was dipped in honey. Tristan actually scooched his chair back a few inches. “I’m looking for a deeper connection, if you will.” She leaned forward a bit more. “Though far be it from me to say that I wouldn’t mind someone fun. Perhaps you could help me, Tristan?”

Tristan stared at her, eyes wide, before swallowing audibly. “Aphrodite Agency does not serve succubi or incubi. I’m afraid Angel would have no reason to meet with you. Good day, Miss Absinthe.”

Oh! Carla finally realized. The woman was a succubus. That explained . . . not very much, actually. Carla had never met one before. Cupids and succubi didn’t usually cross paths, for obvious reasons. But she was here—because she wanted a match?

The succubus crossed her arms, frowning delicately. “Surely we can come to some arrangement. After all, our work usually leads to the same outcome in the end.” She shrugged one slender shoulder.

Tristan bristled. “I will excuse you not to compare my work with your . . . vocation. I make love, thank you very much.”

She smiled again, slow and cold. “How perfect. So do I. In a number of different positions.”

“Miss Absinthe,” Tristan said, steely-eyed. “I do not appreciate your comments, and you are making me look unprofessional in front of my fellow cupid. Angel will not see you. If you do not remove yourself from the vicinity immediately, I will summon security.”

Leeta raised one elegant, unimpressed eyebrow, before letting out a deeply unsatisfied sigh. “Very well.” She glanced at Carla, who blushed under her gaze. “I’m amazed you’re such a close-minded lot about who deserves your kind of love.” Then she turned and walked off, hips and tail swaying.

Both Tristan and Carla watched the succubus push through the double glass doors, and then until she turned a corner and left their sight. Tristan immediately let out a loud breath of air, as if he had been holding it. He shook his head, and then fumbled in his desk for a rose candy, popping it into his mouth before saying, “I’m really sorry about that! I don’t— What an awful woman! The things she said!” He sounded downright scandalized.

Carla didn’t really understand what the fuss was about. “I didn’t think she was that bad. What was the matter?” She looked back toward the doors. “And why don’t we matchmake for succubi? I’ve never heard of that rule before. Well,” she added, bouncing a little on her toes, “I’ve never met a succubus before either, so.”

Tristan threw a caramel cluster into his mouth, chewing frantically. “They just think we’re free meal tickets,” he managed around the cluster. “It’s a completely underhanded mind-set, and they’re never looking for real love. It’s been against company policy since—since I don’t even know when. I’ve had to deal with a few in my time, and they’re all the same.” He huffed, looking downright angry. “All swishy tails and—and innuendo, and of course there’s nothing wrong with that!” he added hastily. “They can’t help that they feed off, well, you know.” This time he pulled out a milk drop, which had to be sucked, so he was at least calming down. “But if some poor fool falls in love with one of them, they can be drained until they die.”

Carla gasped. “If you fall in love with one, you die? That’s horrible!”

Tristan shook his head. “No, just humans. A fae will get very weak, and might even lose some of their more powerful abilities, but we have too much energy to outright die from that kind of depletion unless the incubus or succubus is starving.”

Carla’s bottom lip trembled, and she cast a quick glance toward the glass doors. “So a succubus might never be able to be in love with someone? Or they can’t have someone love them?” If it was that or your match died . . . “That’s—that’s the worst thing I can imagine,” she whispered.

Tristan shook his head again, and patted her on the shoulder. “Oh, they could,” he said, trying to sound comforting. “Theoretically. If the succubus or incubus returns the love, something about the magical chemical properties stops the more damaging part of the drain. Supposedly it even creates a truer bond, on top of making the lust portion a richer food source.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But it’s rare. It’s against their nature to want to settle down. A real love match? Please. That woman just wanted us to do the leg work for a good, steady food source for as long as it lasted.” He glowered, the expression looking entirely out of character on his normally cheerful face. “It’s disgusting! And not something anyone in this agency will ever be tricked into being a part of.” He let out a long breath, rummaging in his desk again. “Peppermint?”

Carla flew slowly home, trying to put the sparkle back into her flutter. It was hard to keep from being disheartened. The morning’s events weighed her down. And while she was upset she wasn’t fit to be a Sweetheart yet, she also kept thinking about the succubus, and what Tristan had said about them not being able to find love.

That must be one of the most horrible things in the world.

Well, no, not for everyone. Carla remembered Pairing Fundamentals 110 perfectly—she ought to, after having to retake it again (for the third time) last quarter, after spending two weeks getting her target to crush on an aromantic person. There were always going to be people, humans and fae alike, who didn’t feel love and got along quite well without it. Which was fine!

But being able to feel love, wanting to find True Love, and not being allowed to? And worse, having the whole of what you are work against you while you tried? That certainly felt like one of the most horrible things in the world to Carla.

She pinched her own cheeks, trying to get her mind off all of it. She should get a treat! Something fun, chocolate, and sugar filled to focus on for a little while. And better to stay out right now than go back to her empty apartment where all she would do is wallow.

Decision made, Carla changed course and after a few more minutes of flying landed on the roof of Jitterbug, her favorite coffee shop. She wasn’t much for coffee, but they made excellent pastries, and their frozen hot chocolate was the best this side of the faerie circle.

She ordered herself said frozen chocolate and a blueberry scone to boot, and then began to look for someplace to sit, determined to people-watch and dream until she felt less awful. She was a cupid! She could make her own destiny! And her destiny was currently filled with delicious goodies and not thinking about work at all!

Resolve firmed, Carla turned . . . and immediately locked eyes with Leeta, the succubus, who was sitting alone and delicately sipping from a teensy tiny cup. After a moment, she flicked her eyes toward the empty seat next to her and inclined her head.

Carla hesitated, squared her shoulders, and made her way over.

Besides nodding again in acknowledgment, Leeta didn’t seem inclined to make conversation. She took her time taking teeny sips from her teeny cup while Carla tucked into her own treats.

While she ate, Carla couldn’t help but look at Leeta. Not just because the succubus was beautiful—that was certainly true, make no mistake—but because she couldn’t help wondering. Tristan had turned her away without even an appointment. She would never see Angel, never get a real consultation with Aphrodite Agency. Never have a chance of a love match. And Carla got the feeling that without a cupid, succubi didn’t get chances for True Love. Of course they usually didn’t want them, they weren’t made for that, but—

Leeta had tried to make the effort. Surely something was there. It couldn’t all have just been a ruse, right? If she wanted a meal so badly, Carla didn’t doubt that there were at least three people in the Jitterbug alone who would happily offer one up right now.

“Yes?” Leeta asked suddenly, and Carla jumped in her seat.

“Yes?” she repeated. “Yes what?” Was Carla allowed to even talk to her, after this morning?

Leeta arched one elegant eyebrow. “You’ve been staring. Not that I’m unused to stares, but something tells me your reasons are different from most.”

“Oh!” Carla said. Something about Leeta made her tongue-tied. “Oh,” she said again. “I guess . . . I guess I was just wondering. About today. Not that it’s any of my business! But I was curious since, um, I’m a cupid, and love matches are what I do, and you seemed to want one, but Tristan—”

“Clearly judged me based on his own personal bias,” Leeta interrupted smoothly. “Which is quite annoying. Not all succubi and incubi are the same.”

“Of course not!” Well, Carla didn’t actually know that for sure, but no member of every species was exactly alike. “Of course not,” she said again, certain.

Leeta regarded her with something akin to amusement. “You are right in that it’s not any of your business, but I don’t suppose it could hurt to tell you. Maybe you’ll argue in my favor.” At Carla’s torn look, she waved a hand. “Not that I expect it. Most succubi don’t love. We aren’t built for it. However I’ve been growing . . . bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yes. Not with the act itself—that is still pleasurable enough—but in the lack of continuity. I’ve been longing to come home to one person in my bed every night, someone to speak to and spend time with even when we are not having sex.”

Carla sighed happily. That sounded so nice!

Leeta shot her another look, but continued on. “I mentioned this desire to one of my old coworkers and was told, in no fine humor, I might add, that it sounded like I was pining for a love match.”

“Oh it does,” Carla said. “How wonderful.”

Leeta raised an eyebrow. “You say that. However, I’m unable to be matched, remember? I was turned away. And given what I am, I doubt my own ability to find love without the help of a cupid. Who would ever approach me with love in mind?”

Carla ate another bite of her scone. Leeta was frowning, her mouth a fine pout, her brows creasing. She looked truly upset, and even upset that she felt this upset. As though she hadn’t realized how much a love match meant to her until she was told she couldn’t have one.

Absolutely not, thought Carla. She was a cupid, goodness save it all! If someone really wanted a love match, it was her very duty to help if she could.

And if she had a passing thought about what it would do for her reputation if she matched a succubus, even under the table, well. That was neither here nor there. But then maybe Angel would see that Carla could be a Sweetheart. She didn’t need Matchmaking at all.

“I have a suggestion,” she said, as Leeta finished her drink.

“Oh?”

“Well, I’m a cupid,” said Carla. “And you want a love match.”

“Go on.”

“How would you like me to take on your case?” asked Carla in a rush. “Purely freelance, not through the agency.”

Leeta rested her chin on one elegant hand. “I don’t suppose you want me to ask whether or not you’re really allowed to offer me that?”

Carla managed a smile. “Um. Not really, no.”

Leeta smirked back. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t care.” She held out her hand. “I look forward to doing business with you. Ms. . . .?”

“Carla,” she said, taking the hand.

“I’m looking forward to this, Carla.”

Carla tried to look confident. “Me too.”

Leeta smiled.

“All right,” Carla said, sitting down across from Leeta with her tablet and a stack of files. After realizing that she wouldn’t be able to smuggle the succubus into the agency, she’d smuggled the necessary paperwork out instead.

Leeta had made an interesting facial expression when she’d entered Carla’s apartment. Carla got the impression that she had been amused by the decor.

“What’s all this?” Leeta asked, over her cup of tea. Spicy chai. Which Carla only had because she subscribed to a surprise mail-order cute box, and the tea had been included with a steeper in the shape of a bumblebee.

“Paperwork,” Carla said. “Well, mostly this is for me. The tablet is for the questionnaire. I’m going to ask you some questions about yourself, start learning who you are and what you like and what might be good for you. I don’t have the agency database on here, but I can sync it up at work.” Thankfully Leeta didn’t ask just how not allowed that was, because . . . well, because it was pretty against the rules.

“And the files?” Leeta asked instead.

“Oh, those are old case write-ups,” Carla said. “Tricky beings who wanted to get matched. I got them for research on where I might look for you. I’m assuming you are looking outside of your species?”

“More than likely,” Leeta said. “I’m compatible with a variety of species, however, so I hope it won’t be a problem.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Carla assured her. She marked that down. “But I needed to ask to be sure. I have a bunch of questions to help better see who might be a good match for you!” Carla didn’t really do a lot of intake anymore, being a sharpshooter in Puppy Love, but she’d taken enough Chemistry classes to know exactly what to ask.

Leeta looked at her in cool surprise. “I thought all you had to do was point and shoot and love . . . happened.”

Carla felt herself turn crimson. “It’s so much more than just pointing and shooting!” She ought to know; if that was all a cupid needed, then Carla would be the best. “It’s . . .” She puffed out her cheeks, thinking how to explain. “Everyone has the ability to love. Not everyone loves romantically, and nobody thinks romantically. Those feelings are . . . hard to reach. They’re purely emotional, without any logic at all, and people can have problems with pure emotion. They don’t know how to . . . how to think with it. Does that make sense?”

“Not really,” Leeta said dryly. “Lust isn’t all that logical either, but most people, in my experience, have no issues with feeling it.”

“Yes, but—” Carla floundered a little before alighting on, “Encounters that are just based on lust aren’t made to last, emotionally! . . . I mean, they’re not, are they?”

“I suppose not,” Leeta allowed.

“But love.” Carla sighed happily. “Love is supposed to mean something. From teenagers experiencing Puppy Love to a True Love match that will last forever, all love has an emotional connection. One that most people can’t understand, or see. But cupids can! Our arrows contain bits of our magic that we use to ignite the Sparks of love, and those allow the person to realize potential feelings.”

“The . . . Spark.”

“The potential,” Carla clarified. “‘Spark’ is, um, a technical term. When a person is ready for some kind of love, they ping our radar. There’s a chance that they’re ready for a love match. Our arrows use cupid magic to connect their emotional responders to their logic centers so that they begin to realize their feelings! You see?”

Leeta blinked at her and then let out a quiet breath. “That is all very interesting and obviously you know what you’re talking about. So why the questions? If there is all this magic involved about feelings I apparently don’t realize I’m capable of?”

“I’m sorry I’m making a mess of explaining,” Carla mumbled, staring down at her hands. “I’ve never had to before, to someone who doesn’t already have a basic understanding of how everything works. It’s like trying to explain the color green.”

“The smell of freshly cut grass.”

“Pardon?”

Leeta shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s how I would explain green.”

“O-oh. Um.” Carla took a deep breath and let it out again. Right. She could do this. Leeta was her client and was trusting her to match her up. The least Carla could do was explain how it worked. “Love is . . . complicated. And there are a lot of different facets to it.”

“I’m getting that.”

“Yes, well, um . . . Chemistry is one of the most important things to a cupid, aside from their targeting skills.” She took a breath. “Because there are so many options, not all matches are going to be the best matches. Or even good ones. Some people even have different Spark intensities, which is why sometimes one person will love another very strongly, but that level of strength isn’t returned. All Cupids do is work to ignite the Sparks they see, doing their best with the options they have for each person at the time. Everything that comes after is up to the individuals. But igniting a Spark is what causes a person’s emotional responders to react to love potential. That’s why every match has the potential to be a True Love match, but not every match ends as a True Love match.”

Leeta didn’t look very impressed. Carla swallowed again. “It’s, um, it’s not an exact science. It can’t be. But things like asking questions or observing our targets can really help us understand them. The best cupids have an innate understanding of chemistry, but it’s not a super common talent. That’s what Matchmakers are for. The rest of us learn the old-fashioned way. It . . . it works out pretty well.”

“I see. Well. I can’t exactly be picky, can I?”

That did not sound like a vote of confidence.

“I could . . . I could try to talk to someone else in the agency,” Carla offered quietly. “I’m a really good shot even if my, um, my chemistry skills could use some work. I’m sure there’s a Matchmaker or two who wouldn’t mind doing me a favor and helping you.” Even if it did mean that Carla would lose the credit of matching a succubus, Leeta’s True Love dream was more important!

But Leeta was shaking her head. “You seem sincere,” she said. “And even if I don’t quite understand how this works, you actually want to help me. I trust you with my feelings.”

“Oh!” Carla blushed. “Thank you.”

“I do have one more question, though.”

“Of course!”

“Why do you use arrows? It seems very . . . archaic.”

Carla laughed. An easy question! “It doesn’t have to be an arrow. But they’re quiet and efficient, and, uh, about thirty years ago there was a movement to shift to bullets, but it got a lot of bad press and a bunch of cupids went on strike over the very idea. Mostly it’s because they’re traditional. And because the pointed tip really results in the best trajectory toward focusing power into a Spark. There’s, um, there’s been papers written on it, if you want me to get some for you.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well,” Carla said. “If you’ve asked all the questions you’ve wanted to, could I start asking mine?”

And Leeta smiled. Or quirked her lips a little bit. Still a smile! “Ask away.”

“All right,” she said brightly. “First, tell me a about yourself. Give me a short bio, one that would interest your potential match.”

Leeta shrugged and tapped a finger on her cheek, the movement sinuous. “Let’s see,” she said. “I’m very blunt. It’s in my nature. I’m choosy because I am able to be. But that bluntness is just my way of honesty, as I don’t believe in pretty flattery or lies.” Carla raced to write this all down. “I have a good heart. Not much excites me anymore, but when I do find something of interest, I am very . . . enthusiastic about it, in my own way.”

“That’s good!” Carla said. “What things do you get excited over?”

Leeta raised an eyebrow. “Besides the obvious?” She smirked when Carla choked. “Mm. I like taking walks. Especially outdoors, surrounded by nature. I don’t hike, but I do stroll, and I quite enjoy it.”

“Oh, me too!” Carla said, excited to find something in common with Leeta. “I like to fly, but there’s something about the tree breeze that I love.”

Leeta nodded. “And I admit to a weakness for a good bit of pastry.” The smirk grew into what almost could be called a smile. “You have a fondness for them yourself, I noticed.”

Carla blushed, cheeks warming. “I’m a cupid,” she said. “I’m supposed to like sweets.”

“Being supposed to do something doesn’t make it true,” Leeta said, before gesturing at herself. “Exhibit A.”

“Of course! I just meant— I do like sweets,” Carla mumbled. And they helped keep her happy round figure.

“As do I, as I mentioned,” Leeta said. “Should you be writing that down?”

“Oh! Yes, right, of course. Anything else? Something personal. That you’d want your true love to know and appreciate.”

Leeta thought, brow creasing in concentration. “I like to read,” she said, after a long moment. “It’s not usually a favorite pastime of my species, but well . . .” She hesitated before adding, “Romance novels. Don’t tease me.”

“I wouldn’t!” Carla gasped at the very thought. “Romance novels are wonderful. Of course I’ll put that down.”

Leeta nodded.

“Okay,” Carla said, once she’d written all that up. “Now, hobbies and interests? What are things you do in your spare time right now? When you’re not, ah, eating.”

“I dance,” Leeta said. “Being able to move well is essentially a requirement for a succubus, but I dance on my own time too. And I read and take walks, as I already mentioned.”

“Dancing,” Carla added. “Excellent. What sort of dance?”

“At this point?” Leeta’s lips quirked up again. “Everything and anything asked or required. But I am particularly fond of ballroom dancing.”

“Oh, that must be beautiful.”

“I find it so, yes. And properly challenging.”

“Great! Next question: absolute dislikes and turnoffs. What are things that you won’t accept under any circumstance? That helps to narrow the field a little.”

“Ego,” Leeta said, curling a lip. “I have enough as it is; I don’t need more in my partner. But I also won’t accept no self-confidence. They should be able to keep up with me. And I must be attracted to them. That isn’t up for debate. On the same note, they should be willing and able to have relations. I want this match to be all I need. I don’t want a partner who will have to watch me get my meals elsewhere.”

“Right! Of—of course that’s important.” Carla looked down on the tablet in her lap. It was good that Leeta was being so candid. She’d been worried that Leeta wouldn’t be able to open up enough for the questionnaire. “All right, so, what do you want in a partner, above all else, would you say?”

Leeta’s expression turned wistful. “Conversation. About everything and anything at all.”

Carla paused in her note-taking to look at Leeta. Her expression was very sad and very real. Nothing like the smirks and posturing from before.

“Is it . . . Do you have a hard time talking to people?”

Leeta shrugged. “I look the way I do. Sound and act the way I do. What do you think?”

“Oh,” Carla said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It is the way it is. And that’s what you are here to do, isn’t it? Find someone with whom I can talk.”

“Right!” A new wave of desire to make this come out right washed over Carla. Not only for her work and reputation, but because Leeta was counting on her. Carla might really be her only chance. She couldn’t let her down, not when True Love was at stake!

With new motivation in mind, Carla dove headfirst into more specific questioning. It took the better part of an hour, another cup of tea for both of them, and even a small plate of pastries. Leeta seemed to like the custard tarts a lot, and Carla glowed with the simple, blunt praise. The actual question-and-answer session was easy though; Leeta was as honest as she’d made herself out to be, was forthcoming with her words, and didn’t beat around the bush for answers. She really was an excellent candidate to be matched. It was obvious she was trying really hard.

“Oh! And finally, do you have any sort of gender preference?” Carla asked. Leeta actually laughed.

“I wouldn’t be very good at what I do if I had that.”

“No, I—” Carla felt herself blushing again. “I meant for you. Do you have a preference? Aside from eating.”

Leeta was quiet for a long time.

“I prefer women,” she said eventually, voice soft. “Over most men. But I’m open to anyone who might work for me. I would like to be matched with someone whose mind and body work well with my own. I care quite less about said body, as long as I am able to be attracted to it.”

“Okay.” Carla put that down as open to all possibilities but skewing it toward women. “Anything else you’d like to add to what we have so far?”

Leeta shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well!” Carla looked over her notes and lists. “Then I think I have all I need so far.”

“I do have a question, however,” Leeta said, flicking her hand.

“Oh! Of course. Yes?”

“Not that I’m complaining, but this all seems very . . . involved. You did say you used arrows to . . . make the interest happen. Was I mistaken?”

Carla shook her head, “Oh no, see, arrows are what we use to spark an interest, or to encourage someone to make a first move if the possibility of a match is there. We create love through connections, not force! It also gives two strangers a reason to take that step to say hello to each other, or to nudge friends into realizing there might be something more. But we can’t do anything if the love doesn’t end up being equal on both sides, or if the Spark fizzles.”

“I see,” Leeta said. “Then how would it work with me, since I specifically requested to be matched up?”

“We keep a database of everyone who has ever requested a match, exhibited a sign for a Spark, or come up on our radars as being potentially ready for a love match, cross-referenced by distance,” Carla explained. “The first step is to see if any of those people ping for you! It’s easy enough to connect you, once we find out who may be a good fit. It’s just best to work your way out; start with the closest matches and move from there. And you’ve got so much going for you! I just know that this is going to be a breeze.”

“If you say so,” Leeta said doubtfully.

“Come on,” Carla wheedled. “Let’s be optimistic, right? It’s obvious you really want this a lot. When that’s true, it’s only a matter of time before your real match comes by. Now that you’ve taken these steps, you might not even need my help. Sometimes it ends up working that way.”

“Let’s keep it just the same.”

Carla grinned. “You bet! Any other questions?”

“Just one,” Leeta said. “How long have your other matches lasted? I am hoping for the long term.”

Carla drooped. “Oh . . .” she said. “Um. Well. It’s complicated?”

“Try me.”

“My personal matches don’t, um, they haven’t all ended up very well,” Carla mumbled. “I’m not as good at chemistry as I’d like to be, and I make mistakes over Sparks. But! I’ve also never personally matchmade someone before with the questionnaire and everything. With all this, I’m sure I can find you a match.”

“So I’m your first, is what you’re saying,” Leeta said, voice dry.

Carla nodded, blushing darkly. “B-but I really, really want to!” she added in a rush. “So I’ll be extra motivated to make sure things work out for you. Everyone deserves True Love, if they want it. And like I said already, you have so much to offer! Your match is out there, definitely.”

“I do hope so. That is why I’m here.”

Carla smiled. She was learning a bit more about how Leeta expressed herself. She was getting that the wit and mild abrasiveness was part of it. It was interesting. She would definitely make a good match with someone special.

“Just give me tomorrow to go in and start looking through our database, and I’ll get back to you later tomorrow night. I’ll call you to let you know, if that’s okay?”

“Calling is fine,” Leeta said. “Though I can’t promise to respond when you do. I might be having dinner.”

“Th-that’s fine! I’ll give you the details, and you can always call me back. My phone is always on.”

“Do you not text?” Leeta asked. Carla wrinkled her nose. Leeta’s lips quirked up.

“I just— It’s better to say it in person,” Carla said, feeling the need to defend herself. “Texting is for . . . short things.”

“If you say so,” Leeta said, but she was hiding a smile behind her hand.

Leeta was beautiful and had a beautiful, interesting personality to match. Carla had no worries at all. This was going to be easy-peasy.

It was not going as well as Carla had hoped.

She’d told Leeta from the start that most matching felt spontaneous to the person being matched. Leeta went about her day, and Carla followed, in her matching state of tiny and invisible, firing her arrows at Leeta and others when Leeta came across someone who Sparked up as potential match. She only ever fired her arrow if there was a fifty percent chance or higher of True Love, barring outliers, and if the chemistry charts all looked good, since that was very important to Leeta.

Carla had explained to her that she should be open to the idea of random happenstance. If someone approached her to say hello, or she suddenly felt the urge to do the same thing, she should take that as a sign to keep moving forward, since those feelings were probably happening because Carla had seen something and fired off a couple of arrows.

The biggest problem was that an awful lot of people that Carla didn’t shoot said hello to Leeta. And tried to flirt with her. And continued the conversation even though Leeta made it clear she wasn’t interested. Mostly men, a few women too.

So far, in the week Carla had been working with Leeta, she’d shot her arrow three times. Leeta, on the other hand, had been approached seventy-two times. In a week. And out of both those groups combined, nobody had been right for her.

Carla was beginning to really see why Leeta had asked for the service.

On top of that was how Leeta got her main source of nutrients. She accepted some of those seventy-two offers because that was how she ate. For a succubus, it really did make sense to be aromantic; things were so hard for them otherwise. Carla’s heart ached for Leeta.

And for herself. The three shots had all ended in failure. One of them, Leeta was unattracted to, and the two others ended up only pinging for Puppy Love after Carla reran the numbers upon the two meeting for an actual date. When Carla sadly told Leeta this, she ended both interactions, not wanting to waste her time on something that, more than likely, wouldn’t work out.

Carla was feeling a lot like a failure, to be honest.

Work wasn’t going much better. She had been paired off with a Matchmaker again, on top of having to retake Chemistry, and it was a punch to the gut every time he calculated a good match and directed her to shoot. All those matches were ending up good ones, and two seemed to be headed into at least Long-term Commitment. Carla hadn’t even seen those two when she’d looked for chemistry.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at my job,” she told Leeta sadly that evening. “I’m trying my best. I really am. And I want you to find someone so badly, I really do!” She covered her face in her hands. “I’m worried that maybe I just can’t match you up and that you’re counting on me and I’m not going to be able to do it. Even though it’s obvious your match is out there!”

Leeta fluidly sat down next to her on the couch and handed her a cup of tea. Wildberry green, sweetened with rock sugar. Carla’s favorite. She sniffed and took it. “And you shouldn’t have to be comforting me either!” she wailed after a sip. “I’m the one making it all go wrong!”

“It’s not your fault that I’m a difficult match,” Leeta said, looking at her nails. “I knew that I would be when this venture started. I’m happy to be doing this at all. I’m certainly better off with you helping me than I would be without. Remember, it isn’t as though I can waltz back into Aphrodite Agency to get another cupid.”

“You’d be better off with another cupid,” Carla mumbled into her teacup. Leeta used teacups, not mugs.

“Another cupid wouldn’t have me,” Leeta said, matter-of-fact. “I’m quite fine with the one who will. I’m a tough case. I understand that.”

“You know, you’re so much nicer than you were at the agency,” Carla blurted. “I mean, maybe if you went back and—”

“And not act like myself?” Leeta asked, raising an eyebrow. “I am standoffish. Many of us are. You’ve seen how often I get approached.”

“Yeah . . .”

“If the agency did not think I was fit to match up, I do not want to work with them,” Leeta said. “You want to work with me, I want to work with you. That’s enough.”

Carla tried for a smile. “Right,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “And I can’t help you if I’m just being gloomy.” She patted her hair puffs, making sure they were at full floof, trying to get her bubbly back. “I think from now on I’m going to be focusing harder on you.”

“I thought you already were?”

“No, I mean—I’ve shot my arrows at you both if I thought there was a Spark. But you get approached so often that that’s not fair to you, with you always wondering if the next person who comes along might really be it. So instead, I’ll focus on being more specific! I’ll only shoot if it pings at least seventy-five percent. That way it at least gets rid of the problem of weeding through all your, ah, admirers? And you’ll know that there’s something there that might turn into more.”

“That would work better,” Leeta said slowly. “I admit that I was disappointed when the few you did shoot turned out not to be worth pursuing.”

“Okay! So from now on, I only shoot at that percentage. I’ll find that Spark yet!”

“I appreciate you being so optimistic about it.”

Carla shook her head, hair bobbing with it. “Of course! That’s who I am. And I wouldn’t be trying if I didn’t think there was a match at the end. You definitely are going to end up with someone wonderful. And it’ll be as long-lasting as I can make it.”

Leeta chuckled. “You say that an awful lot.”

Carla shrugged. “I just believe in it, that’s all. True Love is wonderful. I want anybody who wants it to get it. Everyone deserves to love and be loved.”

“Mm.” Leeta shifted on the couch, recrossing her legs and curling her tail. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Oh, me?” Carla laughed and waved a hand. “No, not yet. But that’s okay! A lot of cupids are late bloomers anyway. And a lot of the time we find a match on the job. I could tell you so many stories about how a cupid was sent to match someone, and ended up being that match. It’s just the way of things.” She gazed dreamily into her teacup. “I don’t mind waiting. I know that there’s someone out there for me, and I’ll find them one day. In the meantime, I get to help other people fall in love! Or . . . I should be, anyway.”

“How do you know it’s so spectacular?” Leeta asked, a touch wistfully. “In real life, as opposed to stories?”

“I’ve seen it enough times,” Carla said. “And oooh, it’s so wonderful, Leeta. I can’t wait for it to happen to you. My parents are a True Love match, you know. They’re both cupids too, which is a little rare. They met trying to pair up a couple, and it ended in two matches, not one.” She smiled just thinking about it. “And they’re so in love still. It was wonderful watching it growing up. That’s why I don’t mind waiting. It’ll be worth it, to have that in the end.”

“To both of us, then,” Leeta said after a moment, raising her own teacup.

Carla smiled and clinked it. “To both of us!”

Carla watched anxiously as Leeta met up with her date. Holly was nice and pretty and very much an outdoors-lover. She liked hiking over strolling, and preferred dogs over cats, but she had pinged a seventy-nine percent match for Leeta, and Carla was willing to try if they were. This was the second time they were seeing each other, so it was already a huge improvement from the last matches Carla had made. After the first date, and Leeta’s evaluation, Holly had still scored as a possibility for Sweetheart if things continued, which was excellent news. And she’d only fired the arrow at Leeta a week ago. Two dates in a week was great news!

And it was going well too, it looked like. Carla even caught Leeta chuckling a few times, and not the polite sort she did when she was working or humoring a potential meal.

Carla, shrunken down and invisible like she always was when monitoring a match, waited and watched. It helped her when working on a long-term case and besides, if things ever did turn into True Love, Carla wanted to watch that realization happen. She’d seen it a few times, when shadowing under others. Sometimes it was big, a grand eyes-meets-eyes connection. Sometimes it was little, when one casually smiled at the other and they went “Oh.” Each one had been a special, marvelous moment, and Carla was wishing for that for Leeta so badly.

The two finished their walk and took a seat together on a nearby bench. Holly suggested that they go get a snack together. Leeta gracefully declined with a shake of her head, saying that she was sorry, but she had another appointment to get to.

Holly smiled and kissed Leeta on the cheek, which Leeta allowed, and then walked off, heading out of the park. Once she was out of sight, Carla popped back into size and sight, joining Leeta on the bench.

“I didn’t know you had another appointment now,” Carla said, pouting. “I wish you’d told me. We could have done this another day, and you would have been able to spend more time with her!”

Leeta shook her head, hair swishing. “My appointment was with you. I agreed to the second date with Holly because I wanted to be sure, but I already knew that we wouldn’t work out. We may remain friends, and I do appreciate that as I don’t have many, but my match she is not.”

“Oh no! How come?”

Leeta reclined back on the bench, tail curling up. “Holly is what you would call . . . mm, a go-getter. And that is fine. But when we walked today, she set a speed and kept with it, even when I slowed. She has her own pace in life and wants a partner to match that. She was willing to walk with me when I made my feelings clear, but as a whole she prefers to go faster than I do, and gets impatient waiting. We might stay friends, but we would not be a good match. I require patience.”

“Oh,” Carla said. “That makes sense. Okay.” And she hadn’t noticed any of that, too busy hoping that things would just turn out all right. Was this what she was missing when it came to chemistry? Looking for those details? It sounded like it. Leeta knew so well who she was and what she needed. Carla envied that, but more, she needed to keep it all in mind.

She wasn’t doing a very good job so far. Maybe she just needed to learn more.

“I have an idea,” Carla said. “I think . . . I think the reason none of my matches have taken is because I only skimmed your surface in the first interview. Now that you and I both know a little bit more about how things are going, we should talk more about what does and doesn’t work for you. Then I can get even better at choosing matches!”

“That sounds fine,” Leeta said. “Would you like to start now?”

“If you really are free, might as well!”

“I had freed my afternoon for Holly,” Leeta said. Carla tried not to wince at the reminder. “I have plenty of time.”

“W-well, all right, then! Would you, would you like to go for another walk?”

“I would like that. Slowly, please.”

“Of course!”

Carla landed, and the two set off at a sedate pace, Leeta allowing for silence while Carla gathered her thoughts.

After a few minutes, Carla asked the thing that had been bothering her the most. The thing she hadn’t noticed. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That Holly probably wasn’t right for you after the first date. You said you went on the second date with her because you ‘wanted to be sure’ but . . . how did you know?”

Leeta shrugged, an elegant lift of one shoulder. “One of the things we had in common was that we both liked to travel,” she said. “However, she is the type to throw herself into activities and go away for a week or more. I prefer relaxing weekends and coming home to my own space. I enjoy it here and plan to stay, and her dream is to travel the world. Like I said before, we set our lives at different paces. Which is fine for friendship, but not for more, for me.”

“Oh,” Carla said, abashed. She’d seen the travel match in both of their profiles and hadn’t dug deeper to see what kind they really liked. Maybe . . . maybe Angel really had something in saying that Carla wasn’t the matchmaking type.

“Now what is that expression for?” Leeta asked, tilting up Carla’s chin. Her fingertips were pleasantly cool. “As I said, I will be getting a friend out of this, so it isn’t all bad. More than what some of the other matches have come to.”

“That’s just it,” Carla said, wings fluttering anxiously. “I’ve been at this for over a month. And still the best you get is a friend. I just . . . I’m not doing a very good job.”

“I appreciate that you are trying,” Leeta said. “Does that not count?”

“I— Trying counts but still. It’s been a month. And this was your first second date.”

“A month is not a very long time. As I remember, people often wait years and years. I had prepared to wait that long. I had prepared not to be matched with anyone at all. That you are trying, that you continue to try, matters to me. It is more than I expected.”

Carla could feel her tears welling up, and gave in to her overwhelming urge to hug Leeta. “I’ll do my best!” she said adamantly. “I’ll keep trying! I’ll find you your True Love, just you wait and see!”

Leeta rested a careful hand on Carla’s back. “I have no doubt. Now, don’t cry?”

“They’re—they’re determined tears.” Carla sniffed, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping at her eyes. “I promise. I just want to make this work for you. I really, really do!”

“So do I,” Leeta said with a small smile.

“Okay!” Carla tried to get her pep back, stepping away from Leeta. The succubus dropped her arm and let Carla go. “Let’s talk business, then. I have details of you, but I think I need more details of those details. I may have rushed into trying to make a match. What we need is to go over what you really want. Nothing superficial.” That would help up the chemistry!

Leeta inclined her head. “Of course. Ask whatever you’d like.”

Carla thought about it. “You said you wanted someone to talk to. But you could talk to Holly. Enough that you want to keep being friends. So . . . I guess I want to know more about what you want. For a romantic match.”

Leeta thought about it, lips pursing. She was silent so long that Carla started to worry. Eventually she said, “It’s like those movies you enjoy.”

“The romantic comedies?”

Leeta nodded. “There are many moments where the two characters spend time together, talking about their days, or their dreams, or nothing in particular. And then there are moments, quiet ones, where the two characters will just be around each other and not have to say anything at all.” She was talking slowly, as if picking her words very carefully. “I would . . . like a partner I would be able to do both with. But still communicate with about important things. Someone who asks how I am feeling, but is also willing to leave me alone if I desire that.” She glanced at Carla. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if that made much sense. I’m still . . . new to this. I don’t know if I can put it into words.”

“No, no!” Carla said, shaking her head, eyes shiny with tears. “That was beautiful! I know exactly what you mean. That’s what I want too, one day. Someone to really share my life with. In the loud moments and in the quiet ones. And to know that they’ll care about you even if you do get angry, or upset, or sad. Especially when you do. I—I mean, I know I like the stories where it’s always a happily ever after, but you have to be realistic in cupid-ing. Sometimes a match won’t be long-term because the people can’t communicate past the idea of being in love.”

“I see,” Leeta said.

They walked in silence for a little while longer.

“But!” Carla burst out, so suddenly that Leeta jumped. “Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to say. That you’re not like that. So your real match won’t be like that either. You’ll definitely end up in long-term. Most people do, when they know so clearly what they want. It just takes a bit more time.”

Leeta nodded. “I am quite picky.”

“Th-that’s not— I didn’t mean—”

Leeta chuckled. “It’s a fact and you know it as well as I. You’re my cupid, Carla. We must be honest we each other.”

“Well,” Carla said. “Maybe . . . maybe a little picky.” Leeta’s smile grew. “But that’s good! Knowing what you want is the first step to getting it!”

“Mm.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Carla called to Tristan, rushing into the office. “Am I late? I think I might be late.”

“You’re early, and you’re fine,” Tristan said, eyes sparkling in amusement.

Carla swiftly did a check-over, smoothing her dress and patting her hair to make sure it was still in its twist buns. “I’m just excited,” she said. “I have a good feeling.” She’d retaken her Chemistry course again, and just from the work she turned in she knew that she’d done a lot better than before. Spending time with Leeta one-on-one had really helped her learn about the intricacies needed for chemistry to work with the Spark arrows. And Leeta was kind and understanding about Carla’s mistakes, so even though Carla obviously tried her absolute best, there still wasn’t any pressure.

It was the perfect way to learn, really, and Carla made a note to thank Leeta again. The succubus insisted that Carla was the one being a help, not the other way around, but, well, grades didn’t lie.

Tristan smiled at her, obviously glad to see that Carla had gotten her pep back. He was a real sweetie.

Except when it came to the topic of Carla’s little project. She really wished, not for the first time, that he and Leeta hadn’t gotten off on the wrong foot, both of their defenses up. Otherwise they might’ve actually gotten along.

Oh well. Maybe once Leeta was matched, Carla could re-introduce them. Or no, maybe not, because she got the feeling Leeta would be smug about Tristan being wrong, and Tristan wouldn’t like that, and—

“Whoa, Carla, where did you go?” Tristan asked with a laugh. “Already thinking about the aftermath?”

“I’m not,” Carla said, a bit surprised. Usually she was tangled up in knots when it came to another review or meeting. But her head was so full of Leeta that she wasn’t worrying. It was a new feeling for her. “I was thinking about . . . something else. A chemistry lesson.” Not a lie!

Tristan nodded. “Good for you!” he said. He looked around, then whispered, “Between you and me, it looks like you’ve really improved on your Chemistry scores.” Because of course, Tristan sorted all of Angel’s paperwork. “I think it’ll be good news today!”

“I hope so!” Carla enthused. But really, even if Angel decided against a Sweetheart promotion again, Carla didn’t think she would be too upset. Not with her own project brewing.

And wasn’t that an interesting thought? She’d never before prioritized another goal over becoming a Sweetheart.

Tristan’s phone buzzed. “Angel’s ready for you,” he said a moment later, giving her a last grin. “Go on!”

Carla smiled back and went inside to greet Angel.

“Good to see you, Carla,” Angel said as Carla took a seat. “And with so much good news! I was very happy to see your latest scores in Chemistry, and that draft you submitted on the thought needed behind the current point-and-shoot system. It was a very interesting perspective.”

Carla blushed with pleasure. “Thank you.”

“On that note,” Angel said, fingers steepled, “I actually have a proposition for you.”

Carla stilled, barely breathing. Was this it? Was this her long-awaited moment? Was she going to be promoted?

“I want to give you some time off.”

What? “What?” Carla blinked. “I-I’m sorry, Angel, I—”

Angel smiled gently and held up a hand. “This isn’t a punishment, Carla. Rather the opposite. You’ve improved wonderfully these last few weeks. At an incredibly fast rate, compared to your old pace. So something new has happened, and it’s clearly working.”

Angel met Carla’s eyes, and Carla had a sudden cold suspicion that the cupid knew much more than what was being said.

“Taking this improvement into account, I want you to take some time off the agency’s work and really focus on whatever . . . project has brought about this newfound inspiration.” Angel knew. Had to know. “I think, ultimately, what you learn from it might really benefit you, and thus our agency as a whole. You are, after all, our best shooter. I’d love to see your progress once you got chemistry down. And you seem to be on that path right now. I’d rather remove the other distractions. What do you think?”

Carla didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, while Angel had expressly said this wasn’t a punishment, wasn’t probation, she was still being removed from active duty for a while. On the other hand, this could be her chance to really focus on Leeta and give the succubus the proper, full cupid-at-work attention she deserved. It was a wonderful opportunity, even if Carla wasn’t sure how it might affect her future at Aphrodite Agency. But then again, being able to put Leeta on her résumé, a love-match for a succubus—that would do wonders. Especially if it were really considered freelance. Like Angel was offering right now.

“Thank you,” Carla said. “I appreciate this opportunity. I’d be happy to take it and use this time to really better myself as a cupid.”

Angel smiled. “Wonderful. Let’s start on the necessary paperwork, shall we?”

“And you’re sure this isn’t something negative?” Leeta asked over dinner that night. Carla and Leeta had been meeting most nights when Leeta didn’t have a date or match-meet set up. To discuss their progress and plans.

“Pretty sure!” Carla said. “None of the paperwork even had scary language like ‘probationary’ or anything. It was setup so that it read like I was doing a solo study to further my worth for the company.”

“Hmm,” was all Leeta said, lips pursed as she served Carla. It was a curried rice dish that Leeta was fond of and had made several times. Carla had been wary of it at first, more used to sweet over spicy, but she was growing to really like it. And Leeta was always very good about providing Carla with a glass of milk, just in case things got too hot for her. The succubus was really thoughtful that way. Carla despaired of the silly match-potentials who hadn’t worked out yet. They didn’t know what they were missing.

Then again, it was good they didn’t. Better to not have anything at all yet, than to fix Leeta up with someone who wouldn’t truly appreciate her.

“How was the rest of your day, then?” Leeta asked.

“Oh, good! I had to tell Tristan the news of course, and then work out things with my division. I’m still one of the top shooters and some of the Matchmakers were, um, counting on me, I guess. One or two said they were disappointed that I would be taking my break now.”

Leeta smiled. “That must have been nice to hear.”

“A little,” Carla said, ducking her head. “I spend so much time feeling like I’m not doing things quite right. It’s nice to hear that other people don’t always think so. Even if I can’t work alone yet. Without a Matchmaker, I mean.”

“You’re working just fine with me.”

“Thank you! And we’re so close, I can just feel it.” Carla’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me about your day?”

Leeta nodded. “It went as well as could be expected,” she said. “We just got a new artist in, who’s been gaining in popularity.” Leeta was a curator for an art gallery. “So there’s a lot to do. However, the artist is reasonable, and we get along well, so I expect no problems with him.”

“That’s good! And . . . did anything else interesting happen today?”

Leeta nodded, lips quirking. “I’ve been meaning to add some new chairs to the gallery; eclectic, vintage looking. I met a woman named Rosa in a thrift shop I frequent for just such pieces. She’s a designer, and uses thrift shops for inspiration.” Carla grinned. Rosa had seemed like just Leeta’s type. Personable and strong; a woman who knew what she wanted out of life. That, along with a creative streak, and she seemed just up Leeta’s alley. She’d known right away to shoot them both.

“And? How did that go?”

“We exchanged numbers,” Leeta said, picking at her food. “And may make plans for lunch this weekend.”

“That’s wonderful!” Carla saw Leeta hesitate on something else. “Anything else you want to share?”

“Ah, yes. Holly contacted me again,” Leeta said. Sounding . . . bewildered. “It seems like she really did mean that she would like to remain friends. She asked if I might show her around a museum she’s been meaning to go to. Tomorrow.”

Carla beamed. “Oh Leeta, that’s so great!” She knew how hard a time Leeta had with friends as well. With how conscious she was of her powers and her defense mechanism being standoffish, Leeta was . . . lonely a lot. Even if Carla had failed so far in finding Leeta a match, just a good, true friend was a success in itself. “I hope you and Holly really continue being friends. That’s just so wonderful. And about Rosa too!”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to seeing Holly.” And again with the hesitation.

“Leeta? What is it? Is something wrong?”

Leeta shook her head. “No, I just, I’m . . . a little nervous. I’ve never really known someone purely platonically before. Not in a long while. I enjoy Holly’s company and recognize that there is no attraction there, either romantic or sexual. It’s just an unusual feeling.”

“But Leeta, that could be so good for you,” Carla said, barely able to contain her happiness. “Part of being able to have a good relationship is to have a variety of them. To be able to have friends and get along with them as friends. There’s platonic love too, you know, amid all the varieties. It sounds like you might be working up to that with Holly. I’d love that for you, one day!”

“Platonic love?”

Carla nodded, hair bouncing. “Oh, yes! It’s very close to familial love. Where you love and care about your family? Platonic love is love without the romance. It’s friendly, but you still love the person for who they are and their faults, and would do anything you could to help them be happy. That’s how I love Tristan.”

“Oh. I see.”

“And—and now that we know each other, I’m a little like that with you!” Carla added in a rush. “If—if that isn’t too weird. But it’s true.”

Leeta blinked, looking taken aback. “I’m flattered,” was all she managed, after the silence had Carla squirming.

“Ooh, it is weird for you, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I love easily. It’s the cupid in me. And just the . . . me in me, too. But I promise that it’s just platonic! I like being your friend. And I want to help you be happy.”

“We—we are friends, aren’t we,” Leeta said, voice careful.

Carla hurried to nod. “Yes! I mean. I think we are. B-but if you’d rather we maintain just the strict cupid-client relationship, that’s okay too! I want you to be happy and comfortable.”

“No,” said Leeta, shaking her head, and for a moment Carla’s stomach dropped. “No, I enjoy being with you and speaking with you, even when it doesn’t directly concern my case. I’m honored that you think of me so. Thank you.”

Carla beamed. “Thank you too!”

Leeta frowned, confused. “Whatever for?”

“For letting me in!”

Leeta smiled again, and Carla felt she might actually burst. She loved it when Leeta smiled for real.

Being given time off from the agency, Carla was now able to follow Leeta around all the time, not just after work and on weekends. Which meant she was able to see a lot more of how Leeta interacted with the world. And how the world interacted with Leeta.

A lot of it wasn’t new. Carla had already seen the general reaction to Leeta’s appearance first, personality second, and Leeta’s own standoffishness when dealing with those kinds of people. But she also got to see Leeta in her element a lot more now, especially while following her at work. She got to see Leeta welcoming people to her gallery, warmly explaining a piece she obviously enjoyed, and listening attentively when clients explained what they were looking for.

She also got to see more of Leeta’s interactions with Rosa. Who seemed like a perfect match. Rosa was smart and beautiful, an adventurous spirit like Holly, but still happy with her roots and current connections. She seemed to work well with Leeta’s down-to-earth personality, and Carla watched the two flirt with each other with interest.

And just a touch of stomach flip-flops. But that was because Leeta was so close to a match, and Carla was excited for her. Right? Right. There was nothing else it could possibly be.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little . . . nervous when the two agreed to a second date, and then a third. Uneasy, like something was going to go wrong. Which really, that was the opposite of what she should be feeling, especially with things going so well. She was a cupid. She was supposed to be delighted over the possibility of love. And she was!

But Rosa, even for all the matched-on-paper perfection . . . just didn’t seem right.

“And I don’t know what it is,” she told Leeta miserably, the two settling down at Carla’s apartment for a discussion of Leeta and Rosa’s fourth date. “If you get along and you think you could make each other happy—”

“But you don’t think it will work?” Leeta said.

Carla shook her head, near tears. “I don’t even know why. Maybe you shouldn’t listen to me.”

But Leeta didn’t look upset or even disappointed, just thoughtful. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re the cupid. This is what you do. If you don’t think I have a future with Rosa, I would rather end it now before things progressed too far.”

Carla’s stomach clenched. That didn’t seem right either. “Don’t do that,” she said quickly. “I’m probably wrong. I’ve been wrong a lot! You and Rosa might really have something.”

“But you don’t feel we do,” Leeta pointed out. “And you are, of the two of us, the one with the romantic experience.”

“But I’ve been wrong all the other times! Every match I’ve made for you hasn’t worked out. So now that this is working out . . .” Carla’s wings drooped miserably. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“Nonsense. I asked because I wanted to know.” Leeta nodded at her, voice surprisingly gentle. “Your opinion matters to me, Carla. I wouldn’t be where I am right now, without you.”

“About to break it off with someone who might really be a match,” Carla muttered, wishing for something sweet.

“Being given the chance to get matched up at all. And you know it. I’ve said I’m grateful. I will continue to repeat the sentiment until you listen to me. You are the only one who has given me a chance, even before you had a good reason to. Your opinion matters above everyone else’s.”

“Okay,” Carla said, voice quiet. “But I still think you should at least see her again. I might just have messed up my radar. Maybe if I pay better attention, I’ll notice something new. Or different! And you do like each other.”

“We do,” Leeta allowed. “We always have something to talk about.”

Carla perked up. “Good! That’s good! That’s the number one thing you wanted, after all.”

“I suppose.” Leeta pursed her lips again, and she always managed to make that look so elegant.

Carla bounced up from her sofa. “I’m going to get a snack,” she said in a burst, craving the gingersnaps she’d bought yesterday. “Do you want tea? Or something else to drink?”

Leeta frowned, but all she said was, “Tea, please.”

“Yes, okay! I’ll be right back.”

Carla left Leeta in the living room and flew to the kitchen, continuing to hover while there in an effort to release some energy. She didn’t know what she was feeling anymore on this Leeta and Rosa business and it was really bothering her. First she’d been happy to hear Leeta had found something, but then she’d felt strange and uncomfortable. Leeta seemed to like her match, but Carla wasn’t sure, and now—now everything just seemed messed up.

She put some gingersnaps on a plate while she anxiously waited for the kettle to boil, and ended up making herself some chocolate milk while she waited. It would be nice with the ginger; gingersnaps weren’t Carla’s favorite, but she had seen them at the store and had thought Leeta would like them.

The whistling of the kettle startled her out of her thoughts, and she choked on a mouthful of cookie.

“Carla?” Leeta’s voice floated in over the sound of coughing. “Are you all right?”

“Fine!” Carla gasped, pouring Leeta’s tea (ginger chai again, Carla bought it regularly now), and setting it, the cookies, and the chocolate milk on a tray. She flew back into the living room trying not to look as ruffled as she felt. “Sorry, sorry, here we are.”

“Thank you.” Leeta took the mug off the tray, holding it in her hands.

“Try one?” Carla said, offering a cookie. “They’re gingersnaps. So they’re not as sweet.”

“Oh,” Leeta said. “Thank you.” She reached out, selected one, and took a delicate bite. “It’s very nice.”

Carla beamed. “I’m so glad! I thought you might like them, because of your tea.” She grabbed one of her own to eat, feeling herself settle a little more. “Since they both have ginger.”

“That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Of course! I want to serve things you like, after all. You do the same for me, when I visit your house.” Leeta looked startled, as though she hadn’t actually realized this. Carla had to fight down a giggle. “Anyway, why don’t we take a break from talking shop? I found another movie that I think you might like.”

“I didn’t like the last one you picked, I just thought it was amusing. Ridiculously so.”

“Either way!” Carla grinned. “You laughed at least a few times!” At Leeta’s expression, she did let out a giggle or two. “You can pick the next one.”

“I will,” Leeta replied, eyes flashing with mirth.

Leeta agreed to see Rosa for a fifth date, but she was distracted and distant the whole time. Carla winced her way through the date and was completely unsurprised when the two had a quiet discussion at the end about where they thought things were headed. They parted on amicable terms, agreeing to perhaps see each other in a while.

Rosa looked upset as she left, and Carla ached for her too. She wanted to apologize, tell her how sorry she was that it hadn’t worked out. Maybe blame herself for this mess. Because it was her fault. If she just had kept her mouth shut, ignored her gut reaction, maybe . . . maybe things would have ended differently.

Although her gut reaction had been more right over wrong lately, now that she was improving in chemistry. She hadn’t been wrong that Rosa and Leeta would hit it off, so maybe . . . maybe she wasn’t wrong about the fact that there wasn’t a Long-Term in it either.

But Leeta didn’t look too happy, and that was Carla’s fault too, even if she was right.

“I think . . . I think I’d like to take a break from matches,” Leeta murmured to Carla, still little and invisible. “That was harder than I expected it would be. I hurt her, and I had no intention of doing so. It wasn’t at all like what happened with Holly.”

“That’s because you really liked her,” Carla replied sadly. “No matter what you decided, you still liked her. Probably a lot. I’m . . . I’m sorry, Leeta. It’s all my fault.”

“No. I’ll be fine. I know what I like, and I know what I want, and I think I know what I see in my future. I will miss Rosa, but it wouldn’t have lasted anyway.”

“But why not? It did seem to be going so well.”

Leeta shrugged. “It didn’t feel right.”

“I wish I knew how you could be so sure,” Carla whispered. “You’re so much better at this than I am.”

Leeta shook her head. “Without you, I wouldn’t have known any of this at all.”

It had been a week since Leeta and Rosa had parted ways, and the succubus had given no indication that she was ready for another attempted matchup. Carla understood, really she did, but it made her feel kind of useless, especially since she still had all her free time from being off work.

Instead of using her break to matchmake or watch or study, Carla was spending more time with Leeta, just not as an invisible observer. Leeta invited her to the art gallery and carefully explained everything to her, even though Carla had heard the explanations a bunch of times over the shoulder of a potential match. She asked Carla to come with her when she went thrifting, to go shopping, and they continued to spend nights on each other’s couch, eating dinner or watching movies or just talking.

It was really, really nice, and it didn’t seem to bother Leeta that they were together so often, which was good. But still . . . Carla couldn’t help but think that Leeta could better spend the time with a potential match. Someone she could love.

It wasn’t as if it was just Carla and Leeta though. Holly did remain friends with Leeta, and the two continued to meet off and on for walks when they had breaks that coincided. Carla was glad about it, even while wishing things had gone differently. Because the two were going out platonically, Carla had no need to shadow the interactions, but there was no harm, she figured. She didn’t do it every time, obviously wanting to allow Leeta her space, but she figured that the more she learned of Leeta, the better she could do next time. She didn’t want another Rosa. This next time was going to be the last time. Carla was going to be sure.

Holly and Leeta were meeting for coffee at the Jitterbug one day, and Carla couldn’t help abandoning her post for a little bit to get herself her own treat. It wasn’t real duty, so it was allowed.

When she returned, small and unseen and carrying a bite-sized brownie, the two were already deep in conversation at their secluded table in the back.

“—and it’s going well. How about you? How’s the plan working so far?” Holly asked. “Anything?”

Leeta shook her head. “It isn’t. I don’t think she yet realizes what I’m doing.”

Holly raised an eyebrow. “Still? Even after you’ve rejected every match? She hasn’t noticed that you don’t even spend the night with them anymore? And now that you’ve decided to wait . . . Leeta . . . She doesn’t sound like a very good cupid.”

“Oh no.” Leeta’s voice was tinged with something sharp. “She’s fine. Better she doesn’t know yet, I think, that I don’t intend to end up with any of them.”

Holly grinned. “Ah, I get it. Because the longer it takes for her to figure out, the more time you have, right? Just in case she doesn’t take it well.”

Leeta inclined her head. “Exactly. I . . . don’t know if she would like the idea at all.”

Carla couldn’t believe her ears. Leeta . . . Leeta was rejecting all those matches on purpose? She didn’t plan to end up with anybody? She didn’t plan to have a True Love match?

Carla was big and visible again before she could think, Holly and Leeta staring at her in shock.

“I can’t believe it,” she wailed, unable to control herself. “You—you didn’t really want my help! You never wanted a True Love match at all!”

Leeta look horrified, and Holly no less so. Well—well, good!

“Carla, no,” Leeta began hurriedly, voice clearly trying for calm. “Carla, that’s not—”

But Carla couldn’t listen. “Tristan was right,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You were just—you were just using me to get some easy meals! Consider our agreement over!”

She flew away without looking back, kept flying until she got home and ransacked her kitchen, pulling out the almond cookies she’d made last night. That she’d planned to share with Leeta, because they were her favorites.

Carla ate all of them and didn’t even feel bad.

“Carla? It’s Leeta again. I . . . I know you’re avoiding my calls. I understand. But please let me explain. I promise it’s not what you think.”

“Carla, it’s Leeta. I just . . . After Holly, I stopped spending the night with any of the matches you made for me. I didn’t get a meal out of a single one of them. I just . . . I wanted you to know that.”

“Carla, please call me back. Please let me explain. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

The last message made Carla sit up. She did care about Leeta, and had considered Leeta a friend, and-and-and . . . she wanted to know what had been going on. She didn’t even care about an apology, just an explanation. Why had Leeta been lying to her? That was all she wanted to know. And that, at least, she could get.

So after eating three brownies to steel herself, it was with a very trepidatious and heavy heart that Carla made her way over to Leeta’s apartment and rang the bell.

After several minutes, Leeta answered the door. Her hair was loose, just this side of mussed, and she was wearing a long silk robe that look as though it had been hastily thrown on. Her eyes were wide and perhaps a little scared.

“Oh!” Carla said, blushing and tapping her toes together. “I— Did I interrupt something?”

Leeta shook her head quickly, hair swishing against the silk gown. “Nothing of importance. I was . . . I wasn’t eating. Please, come in, come in.”

Carla followed her inside and sat down on the couch. Then she blushed even brighter at how naturally that came.

“Would you like something to drink? Or eat? I—I have . . . I have sweets.”

Leeta only had started getting sweets after they’d become friends. And now she kept a variety to keep Carla from getting bored.

“You said you had something you wanted to explain to me,” Carla mumbled, trying to forget how nice it had felt the first time Leeta had offered her fruit gummies, knowing full well that Leeta didn’t care for them.

“I— Yes. Yes, I did.” It was interesting, watching Leeta out of her element. Carla had never seen her so flustered before.

“And?”

“It’s true that I stopped looking for a True Love match several months ago,” Leeta said. The words hit Carla like a slap. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I didn’t,” Carla said, more hurt than anything. “Obviously. If I hadn’t—if I hadn’t been there to overhear you and Holly, I would still be trying to match you! Or—or waiting patiently for you to get over Rosa! And what was Rosa? Was she a lie? Did you really break it off? Or . . . even see anything in her at all?”

“I stopped seeing Rosa because she was tempting,” Leeta said. “And I had made myself a promise not to make meals out of anyone you found for me.” She sounded like she was trying to remain calm. It made Carla even more upset that Leeta could sound so unaffected when Carla’s own heart was tearing in two.

“What for! So you could—could keep me around longer?”

“Darling, that’s exactly it.”

Carla bristled, feeling her hair puff out. “You—you—you’re always making fun of me! Even now! And you just wanted a pet cupid? I thought you wanted to apologize. That maybe we could even be friends.”

“I don’t want to be friends,” Leeta snapped. “I’m tired of being friends!”

Carla wilted, all the anger going out of her, leaving only sadness and ache. “Then why am I even here?” she asked, voice quiet and tired. It sounded foreign even to her own ears.

“I—I didn’t mean that,” Leeta said, taking a physical step back from the couch. “I just meant—” She paused like she was struggling for words, and Carla listened despite herself. Leeta was never tongue-tied. “I meant that I don’t want to be just friends,” Leeta said hesitantly. “I—I want more. From you. I started rejecting all those matches out of hand because I started to want you. But you didn’t notice and didn’t notice, and I thought I was wrong. Because if—if we were a True Love match, surely you would be able to see that. I thought—I thought that was the whole point. Once you were matched, that was it. And everyone was happy.”

Carla’s heart beat double-time. “You love me?” she asked, voice cracking on the last word. “You mean it?”

“It’s not something I would lie about! You think that of me? That I would lie about this? Something I’ve wanted since—since . . .” She stopped and looked away.

Carla waited, giving her time. Giving herself time.

“At first I didn’t even realize,” Leeta said after a long moment. “I’ve never felt this way about someone. And with True Love—I wanted it, but I wasn’t even sure that I could. I just wanted. So I kept it a secret, because I didn’t know how much I was really wanting and how much I was simply wanting to want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Carla whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Leeta frowned and leaned forward, carefully brushing them aside. “I never wanted to upset you,” she continued, voice sad. “That was the other reason I stayed quiet. You were trying so hard for me, I didn’t want to ruin your work. I wanted you to make the match, so you could get all that you dreamed from it. But then, with Rosa . . . I was tempted. I liked her a lot. I didn’t love her, but I was tempted to go for more because I could. And I didn’t want to.” Leeta’s eyes slid away. “You were right,” she added, “About something not being right. And it’s my own fault for not admitting it—and why—to you sooner.”

“I . . . I need to think about this,” Carla said, surprising herself. “I need to think.”

“Of course,” Leeta allowed. “Take . . . take all the time you need. And . . . I’d understand if you . . . if you don’t want . . .”

“No! No, I, of course I want, but . . .” Carla stared at her hands. “I don’t know if it’s fair to you. I know I love you. But I love a lot of people. I love all my friends, and my parents, and some of my coworkers. And I’ve never—I’ve never . . . I’ve never loved more than that, before.”

“Yes,” Leeta said, voice wry. “That platonic love you mentioned before. That was what first made me think about what was happening. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realized—I’d been shot by your arrows an awful lot. And I think you ignited something. We had plenty of Right Moments.”

“Leeta,” Carla said, voice shrill, “this is important. One of the most important things on your list was a match you could—you could feed from. So you could be monogamous. And I don’t even know if I— I’ve never—I’ve never.”

“Sweetling,” Leeta said, kneeling down in front of Carla and taking Carla’s hands in her own. “Is that your only worry?”

Carla shook her head. “N-not my only worry. But a big one. Because it is a big one. I— That’s important to you!”

“Carla? Carla, look at me. Please?”

Carla looked, sniffling and fighting down tears. Leeta’s expression seemed so hopeful.

“Carla, do you love me? Love me back?”

Carla couldn’t help it. She knew how she felt about Leeta, how her stomach fluttered every time the succubus smiled, how warm it made her feel when Leeta wanted to spend time with her, how much she appreciated Leeta’s bluntness and clumsy kindness. How she’d been fighting down those feelings in order to try to match Leeta up with someone else. She nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Do you . . . do you find me attractive? Do you enjoy the way I look and move?”

Carla nodded again. Leeta was beautiful. That was never a question. But—

“Do you not want sex?” Leeta asked, voice soft. “Do you not like it?”

“I don’t know,” Carla replied miserably. “I’ve never had it. I’ve never wanted it before. And I just don’t—I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Would you . . . want to try?” And Carla could see how careful Leeta was being, how important this felt. Because she knew it would be a deal breaker if this didn’t work, although neither would begrudge the other for it.

But yes, she did want to try. For the first time ever, actually, she wanted to try. If only because she wanted Leeta to be happy. If it made Leeta happy, Carla was pretty sure it’d make her happy too, even if she ended up not caring for the act itself. And wasn’t that what True Love was really about? How you and your partner fit together?

“I . . . Yes,” Carla said, wiping at her eyes. “Maybe. I mean. I would like to at least try. If it’s you.”

And then Leeta smiled, brilliant and bright, if still with a touch of fear. “All right, then,” she said. “Let’s figure this out, shall we? Together.”

Carla was all for just going at things right away, but Leeta pulled back and suggested they take some time first. Let Carla become used to the idea, as well as give themselves some time to get back into the space they were used to. The last few days had been unpleasant and uncomfortable, with anger and sadness on both ends.

Leeta had been clear about wanting to make sure there was no residue of that for Carla’s first time.

Carla still couldn’t understand how she’d gotten so lucky, that someone as wonderful as Leeta wanted her, of all people. That Leeta was still available for Carla, and not with someone else. But then again, it was Carla’s own failure at matchmaking that had things turning out this way, so . . . maybe she should count herself lucky in more ways than one. If she’d been better at her job, she would be missing this. That was an upsetting thought.

Carla did try her best not to worry, but she was so jittery over the thought of what she wanted or possibly wanted, and what would happen and all the maybes and why-nots, that by the time Leeta came over the next evening for dinner and a movie to regain some normalcy, Carla was almost more twisted up than before.

Leeta noticed, of course. “What’s wrong?” she asked, almost as soon as they finished dinner. “Are you having second thoughts? I understand if—”

“No,” Carla interrupted, stomach fluttering. “I’m not. I’ve just—I’ve just been thinking about it, that’s all. And . . . if I’ll do a good job. If you’ll still like me after.”

“I can’t promise that it won’t be hard for me if you’re unable to do this,” Leeta said, scooting a little closer on the couch. “But I do promise that I still will love you after, even so. I don’t think I realized how much I wouldn’t actually have a choice in loving someone,” she added, voice wry. “How much loving you has affected me. But then, you’re always teaching me new things.” She lifted a hand to Carla’s cheek. “May I kiss you?”

“Okay,” Carla whispered, closing her eyes as Leeta leaned forward.

It was a chaste kiss, a gentle brush of lips that made Carla feel warm and cherished. She wondered for a brief moment how it might feel to be kissed by someone who wasn’t Leeta and immediately discarded that thought. She was pretty sure it was so wonderful because it was Leeta who was kissing her. Carla’s stomach flutters got worse, but in a good way.

“Again?” Leeta asked, and she sounded just as nervous as Carla felt.

Carla giggled, unable to help herself. This was all so . . . much. “Yes, please.”

Leeta moved forward again, and this time Carla met her halfway. They traded kisses, just gentle nips and pecks, for several minutes. When they broke apart again, even Leeta was a little flushed.

“My,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “And I’m not usually one to be affected. How are you feeling?”

Warm, blushy, still nervous, but . . . “Good. Really good. I—I think I liked that.” Carla smiled, trying to fight down the embarrassment. “A lot.”

“I did too.”

Carla inched forward again. “Would you, um. Would you like to try . . . more?”

Leeta chuckled, shaking her head. “I know it sounds out of the ordinary for me, but I think I’d rather take it slow. I want to make sure you are comfortable no matter what we do. And I’d . . . like to think we have time.”

“We do!” Carla exclaimed at once. “Definitely. I just, I guess . . . I don’t think I’d mind if we . . . if we . . . did more?”

Leeta smiled, warm and not the least bit mocking. “All right,” she said. “But at your pace, not mine.”

Carla blushed even darker. “But I don’t even know what my pace is.”

“So won’t it be fun to find out? If you’d like to?”

“I . . . I like kissing you,” Carla admitted. “A lot.”

Leeta’s smile grew brighter still. “We can certainly do more of that,” she said. “In fact, in terms of more . . .”

She placed one hand on Carla’s shoulder and wound the other arm around her waist, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to Carla’s neck. Carla felt her eyes slide shut.

“Oh.”

“Was that all right?” Leeta asked, her breaths puffs of air against Carla’s skin. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Carla replied, breathless. “I really, really did.”

“Good.” Leeta pressed in with another kiss, and then another. Carla’s fingers found Leeta’s shoulders and clutched at them. She was almost relieved when Leeta pulled back. Almost. There was still an acute sense of loss.

“Could I kiss you like that?” Carla asked. “Would you like it?” The arm around her waist tightened briefly.

“Very much,” Leeta said. “Please, do . . . do whatever you’d like. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. Just as you will do the same for me.”

Carla nodded, eyes fixed on Leeta’s. She pressed a kiss to the underside of Leeta’s jaw, smiling when Leeta shuddered. Carla had done that. Made Leeta feel good like that.

It was thrilling. She wanted to do more.

She mouthed a little more at Leeta’s jaw and neck, taking immense pleasure in Leeta’s happy sighs, and then, idea taking hold, opened her mouth to suck on some of that smooth brown skin. Leeta gasped, and Carla immediately pulled back.

“Sorry!” she squeaked. “Sorry, I didn’t— Was that too much? I know you said my pace but that includes your pace too, and I—”

“Carla,” Leeta said, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to Carla’s forehead, and then the side of her mouth. “I didn’t say stop.” She smiled, honey slow. “And believe me, I wasn’t about to.”

“Oh,” Carla said, voice small. And she wanted to return to what she was doing, but now she was embarrassed again.

Leeta chuckled. “Here,” she said. “This is what it felt like.” And then she leaned in to lick a little at Carla’s own neck, and oh that was—that was what—

That was what she’d been making Leeta feel.

“Ooh,” she said. “Okay, I— Okay.” She felt Leeta smile against her skin.

“You see?”

Carla nodded, blushing so hard she might as well have been steaming. She swallowed. “Could I . . .?”

Leeta tipped her head back, exposing her throat, and Carla went for the dip where neck met shoulder. This time she didn’t stop at Leeta’s gasp, happily moving down to nip a little at Leeta’s collarbone too, feeling Leeta against her. This was fun.

They continued like that for several more minutes, until Leeta pulled away again. Carla couldn’t help the little noise of disappointment she made.

“How are you feeling?” Leeta asked, holding on to Carla’s hand.

“Good. I liked that. All of it.” And she wasn’t even blushing too badly, she didn’t think. “Um. How are you feeling?”

“Very good,” Leeta replied with a smile. “And even . . .” She hesitated before adding, “I could make a meal of this, I think. Just this.”

“What? Really?” That was wonderful news! “But I thought you needed—”

“So did I,” Leeta said. “But I believe it turns out that it’s true; things work differently when love is given and returned.” And her voice was so warm when she said that, Carla felt like she’d just been hugged close. Then she was being hugged close, because she’d dived at Leeta, grinning.

“That’s so wonderful! Now I don’t have to worry about you going hungry. I was really scared about taking it slowly, because I wanted to make sure you were able to eat.”

“You were worried about that?”

“Of course! For me it’s just something new and different, but for you it’s not only something you enjoy, but need. Of course I was worried.”

Leeta’s fingers stroked over Carla’s hand. “That’s . . . that’s not why you wanted to continue tonight, was it? Because Carla, I can go without eating properly for several months if I continue to have regular food. There’s no need for you to—to force yourself to move faster. I’m fine.”

“Oh no, no.” Carla reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Leeta’s ear, thrilled that she was allowed to do so. “That’s not it. I mean I was worried, but I also wanted to see what sex was like. Since you enjoy it so much. I wanted to, um, I wanted to share it with you. Does that sound silly?”

Leeta swallowed and shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Good. Because—because I mean it. I may never have cared about sex before, but I’ve also never cared about someone this way before. I want to have—be intimate with you. Not only because it would make you happy, but because you like it so much. I want to see if I could feel that too. And then it would be something else I could share with you. Okay?”

“Okay.” A whisper.

“But you’re right, I think. That we shouldn’t rush just because I’m worried or . . . anything like that. And I won’t rush, and I like taking it slow and exploring but . . . but soon?”

“That would be nice,” Leeta said. “If you want to.”

“I think I really do, at least to try. And um, about, um, tonight?” And oh dear, after all that, this was what got her blushing again?

But Leeta only grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I was thinking. Maybe you could spend the night. I don’t . . . know if you like to cuddle, but I do, and I thought it might be nice to just—just sleep together. And um. Wake up together.”

Leeta’s eyes glittered. “I would love that very much.”

Carla woke up with Leeta curled around her back, and feeling so warm and fuzzy that she felt she might burst. She snuggled back down in her embrace for several long moments, savoring it, before getting out of bed to get ready for the day. She let Leeta sleep on, watching her fondly for a few moments before heading into the bathroom.

Leeta was stirring just as Carla finished, and Carla was struck by how nice it was to see her there, yawning and stretching awake in Carla’s own bed. Her hair was tousled, but in a way that looked artful as opposed to the giant puffball that Carla’s turned into. She wondered if that was part of succubus magic—always looking lovely.

“Good morning,” she said softly, not sure if Leeta was a morning person. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” Leeta replied, voice still tinged with sleep. “Did you?”

“Mm-hmm! Do you like breakfast? I was going to make us breakfast.”

“I would like some tea or coffee,” Leeta said, extricating herself from Carla’s pink and purple blankets, “but as to food, I would be happy with any breakfast you make.”

“Okay! Okay, tea or coffee, I can do that,” Carla said. Probably tea, since she had that. She didn’t drink coffee enough to own a machine. “There’s a towel for you folded up in the bathroom. And, um, you can—you can borrow my robe, if you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Right! Okay! I’ll be in the kitchen.” And making pancakes. It seemed like a pancakes kind of morning.

Carla did her best to keep herself busy while Leeta was in the shower, but it was hard because she kept thinking of Leeta in the shower, which was probably not what she should be thinking while trying to make breakfast, but it also felt like a good thing? That she wanted to think about that? Even if it was very distracting and these were going to be the lumpiest pancakes she’d ever made. She hoped Leeta wouldn’t mind.

Leeta strolled into the kitchen several minutes later, just as Carla was plating the stack of pancakes. She was wearing Carla’s robe, even though it was both too short and too big, what with Leeta being much taller and slimmer.

“I m-made pancakes,” Carla stammered, handing Leeta the cup of tea she’d made. “I hope you like them.”

“I’m sure I will.” Leeta leaned down to peck Carla on the cheek before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Carla let out a nervous but happy giggle and set the pancakes down, before getting the milk and maple syrup and jam out of the refrigerator. She wasn’t sure what Leeta would like as a topping, but Carla liked nearly anything as long as it was nice and sweet.

She was unsurprised when Leeta reached for the marmalade.

“So I was thinking,” Carla said in a rush as she put a dollop of strawberry jam on a pancake. “That maybe I could go with you to your work today? Not to stay! If you don’t want me to, but, um, walk you over? Or . . . drive. And then I could fly home. But I also don’t want to crowd you so—”

“Carla,” Leeta interrupted, and Carla gratefully stopped her babble. “I took the day off.”

“You did?”

Leeta smiled indulgently. “I was being optimistic on how the evening would go.”

“Oh! Did it, um, did it go well? I mean, I think it did.”

“Oh yes, very well. I honestly couldn’t have hoped for better. It was very nice.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Carla said. Then she shoved half a pancake in her mouth to stop herself from talking. They’d already established that they’d liked last night. She felt her cheeks warm anyway, remembering the kissing. She’d always thought it seemed so romantic, but she’d never really thought about how it would feel.

Carla liked kissing. Or, she liked kissing Leeta. And she already knew that because of last night, and she really needed to stop thinking about it.

“Well,” she managed, “did you, um, have other ideas of what you’d like to do today?”

“I was hoping to spend more time with you,” Leeta said. “If you didn’t mind. I’d like a day with you where we aren’t occupied with trying to match me up.” She grinned. “Since it is less necessary now.”

“Oh,” Carla said. “That— Yes! That sounds nice.” She took another big bite of pancake to think over what to do. Mostly she’d been spending her leave time following Leeta around. This was actually her last day, and she got to spend it all with Leeta. Having Leeta all to herself. “Did you . . . did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?”

Leeta shook her head. “I’d like to go back to my place for a change of clothes,” she said, “but no, no plans aside from that. We’ve spent a lot of time on me. Let’s do something you like.”

“I’ve liked almost everything we’ve done together so far,” Carla said honestly. “Spending time with you makes me happy.”

Leeta smiled. “Me too.”

“But, um, I found some new recipes I’ve been meaning to try making,” Carla said. A dark, dark chocolate flourless torte that looking interesting (and not too sweet). “Maybe we could get your clothes and . . . go on a walk? And then come back here and bake. Or do something else! Whatever you like.”

“That sounds lovely,” Leeta said. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Carla said, smiling shyly over at Leeta.

They ate in silence for a few more minutes before Leeta asked, “What was it we’ve done that you didn’t like?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You said that you’ve liked ‘almost everything’ we’ve done together,” Leeta said. “Which things didn’t you enjoy? So I know.”

“Oh, um.” Carla fidgeted with her fork. “You, um. When you went to the art exhibition about the . . . the people. Um.”

“The Orgasm in Process show?” Leeta ask.

Carla nodded, blushing hard. “I just felt really, um, awkward. Not that there’s anything wrong with sex,” she hurried to add. “Obviously! I just felt uncomfortable, um, looking at it?”

Leeta nodded, lips pursed in thought. “And you’re sure you want to try having sex? I . . . I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yes! Of course! I want to try it to know if I mind it or not. I’m hoping I don’t. Then you wouldn’t have to go without. If, um, if you still wanted to try things, anyway.”

“I do,” Leeta said firmly. “I’ve been wanting love for a long time. I can compromise on other things. Even if . . . sex is something you don’t like. We’ve already established that you like kissing and that I can eat from that, which is more than I might have expected. I can work without the rest.”

“I—I still hope I don’t mind it,” Carla said.

Leeta quirked her lips. “Darling, that’s setting your hopes a bit low, don’t you think? Hope to enjoy it. Hope to get pleasure from it. But know that if you don’t, I’m still perfectly capable of pleasuring myself.”

Carla was certain her face couldn’t get any hotter. But it was good that they were talking about this. It was important. That was how love matches turned into actual relationships. And . . . and she was really hoping that was what this could be.

“How about this?” Leeta suggested. “We finish our breakfast, then go by my apartment, and then take a lovely, long walk. After, we can return to your place and bake what you’d like, and then . . . experiment a little.”

“And kiss more,” Carla said, determined.

Leeta laughed, low and soft. “Yes, Carla, we can most definitely do that.”

The drive over to Leeta’s apartment was uneventful, and soon enough, she’d changed and they were out again. Leeta lived in a very nice area, and there was a beautiful park with walking paths quite close by. They’d done a lot of walking together when Carla was trying to find Leeta her match.

“Do you think we might run into one of your friends this time?” Carla asked. Leeta had explained that she knew several other succubi and incubi who lived in the area, preferring to keep to themselves when they weren’t working.

“Probably not. We’re late risers, since we often work through the night.”

“But your art gallery is open during the day,” Carla said, confused.

Leeta smiled at her. “And it’s a touch unusual for me to be working there. We tend to gravitate toward work in the nightlife. It’s easier to meet meals that way. Quite a few succubi and incubi are sex workers. It’s just simpler.”

“Oh.” Carla thought about this. Then, tentatively, “Were, um . . . were you . . .?”

“A sex worker?”

“Is it okay to ask? I hope it’s okay! But I’ll leave it if it isn’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with—”

“Yes,” Leeta said simply, cutting off Carla’s babbling. “I was. I was finding it tiresome. When I decided I would attempt to pursue a love match, I left it. That’s when I began to work for the gallery.”

“Oh,” Carla said again. “That wasn’t that long ago, was it?”

“No.”

“And you like working for the gallery.” It wasn’t quite a question.

“I do.”

“Do you ever, um, miss your old job?”

Leeta shrugged. “I miss certain aspects of it. Parts could be fun. I had a few coworkers I still keep in touch with. But, for me, it didn’t have a future. At least not the one I was hoping for.”

Carla really wanted to hold Leeta’s hand. Then she remembered that she could and reached over, curling her fingers around Leeta’s own. “I’m glad you found something else you like doing,” she said shyly.

Leeta smiled down at her. “Me too.”

“Carla?”

Carla spun around and looked up, where Tristan was flying, carrying a large blue binder. “Tristan! H-hello. You’re, um, you’re not at work!”

“I was picking this up,” he said, hefting the binder. “Carla, you’re—” He looked from Carla, to Leeta, and Carla could see the moment where he took in their clasped hands. “You— This is why you haven’t been at work? You’ve been with her?”

“I, well, um. Yes?”

Tristan glared, and Carla actually took a step back. Then she realized he was glaring at Leeta.

“You—you succubus.”

Leeta’s fingers tightened around Carla’s. “Why, yes, I am. Ever observant, aren’t you?”

Tristan turned purple. “Very funny. You know what isn’t a joke? Other people’s feelings.”

“Tristan,” Carla said desperately, “Stop it. I— She’s my love match.”

Tristan froze. “What?”

“She’s my love match,” Carla said again. “I . . . She is. Please don’t . . .” She stopped, unsure of what to say.

He stared at them both for a long, silent moment, while Carla’s stomach did flip-flops. Finally he visibly swallowed and clutched the binder close. “I have to get this back to Angel,” he said, and flew off without another word. And without letting Carla get one in.

“Oh,” Carla said sadly, after he was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Leeta murmured.

“No, I—” She blinked back tears. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him and explain everything and . . . he’ll understand. It’ll be fine. Tristan’s a cupid. He understands love. It’ll be okay.”

“It will be,” Leeta said, lifting up Carla’s chin. “He’s your friend, and he cares about you. That’s all this is. He was being protective. I don’t begrudge him that, at least.”

“Thank you.”

Leeta smiled softly at her. “Would you like to keep walking?”

Carla nodded vigorously.

It’d be all right.

The walk turned into lunch together at a café, and then back to Carla’s apartment for the promised baking of the chocolate torte, and Carla was having such a good time that she completely forgot to be nervous.

They had dinner at Carla’s again, ordering in because while Carla liked to bake, cooking was much, much less her forte, then curled up together on the couch with a plate of torte each.

“I like it,” Leeta said, after a taste.

“Oh good! I was hoping you would. It’s pretty rich, so I wasn’t sure, but I thought you might like the dark chocolate.”

“It’s very good,” Leeta assured her, taking another bite. “And you? Do you like it?”

Carla nodded. It was a touch darker than she usually liked her chocolate, but the taste was definitely growing on her. “Mm-hmm,” she hummed around her fork. When she looked up again, Leeta was watching her with a peculiar expression on her face. Fondness, maybe. Carla smiled back. “Did—did you have a nice day? Was it what you wanted?”

Leeta nodded. “Everything I wanted,” she said. “Even with . . .” She stopped. But Carla had had the whole day to work through her feelings about the meeting with Tristan.

“I’ll talk to him,” Carla said, licking chocolate off her fork. “It will be fine. Tristan’s a cupid. He feels things very strongly, no matter what they are. But he’s also a good friend, and a good person. I’ll talk to him.” She knew Tristan. Once she actually calmed him down enough to explain everything, he really would understand.

“Hmm.” Leeta didn’t sound convinced.

Carla stuck out her lip. “Don’t you hmm me. I know exactly what I’m talking about! Who’s the cupid here?”

Leeta laughed, and it was so nice to hear her laugh. “You are.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Carla said, waving her fork before taking another big, chocolatey bite. Leeta was watching her again, eyes sparkling, and Carla tried not to feel self-conscious. Had that bite been too big?

“May I kiss you?” Leeta asked, and that was not what Carla had been expecting to come out of those quirked lips. “When you’re finished eating?”

“I can be finished!” Carla said, swallowing quickly and setting down her plate on the coffee table.

Leeta laughed again. “No hurry,” she said. “I was just asking permission. You are very tempting.”

“I . . . am?”

Leeta reached out to grab Carla’s plate and set it back in Carla’s lap. “I enjoy watching you,” she said. “When you like something, you like it unabashedly. It’s very endearing.”

Carla felt a little thrill at the compliment. Leeta found her endearing.

Leeta was in love with her. And Carla could feel her own love pinging back to meet it. It made her feel very brave.

She took one more bite, just to add extra courage and because it made Leeta smile that much brighter, thought over her words while she ate, and then said, “I’d like it if you kissed me. I’d like that a lot.”

Leeta beamed, there was no other word for it, and shifted closer to her on the couch, curling one hand around Carla’s back and drawing her forward. This time Carla pressed in close. Leeta tasted like cinnamon and chocolate, and for several long moments it was just the sweet slide of lips and tongues, and Carla felt herself get very warm, but in a good way.

She smiled dopily at Leeta when they parted, having pulled Leeta almost entirely into her lap. Leeta’s tail was curled around her back. Carla liked the feeling of Leeta wound around her and leaned in again to suck at her neck, thrilling at Leeta’s breathy sounds, the clench of her hands on Carla’s back, underneath her wings.

They were both flushed when Carla pulled away again, and she found herself a little mesmerized by the heave of Leeta’s chest. And she was still feeling brave. “Could I—could I kiss you more?” Carla asked.

Leeta pecked her on the lips, the cheek. “We can do anything you want, darling.”

Emboldened and heady from the kissing, Carla carefully reached for the strap of Leeta’s sundress and started to tug it down. “Is—is this okay?” she whispered, looking up to meet Leeta’s eyes.

Leeta swallowed and nodded. “Whatever you want,” she said again, attention rapt. “Here, let me—”

She twisted in Carla’s lap and oh that felt—good, something she wanted again, and then Leeta was pulling her sundress down lower, unclasping and shucking her bra, exposing two perfect breasts, with dusky, peaked nipples. Carla’s mouth started to water.

“Can I?” she asked, but she was already moving forward, Leeta pulling her close. “Tell me what you like,” Carla said, before she closed her mouth around one nipple.

Leeta gasped. “I like that,” she said, voice breathy, and that was all for Carla and what Carla was doing. It felt amazing. “If you suck harder, I’ll like it even more.” Carla dutifully did as she was told, flicking her tongue out in experimentation and being rewarded with another gasp. “Yes, just like that. Carla.” Leeta’s hands roamed up and down her back, stroking her wings, and then came to rest on the hem of Carla’s shirt, rubbing there as if asking permission.

“Please,” Carla said, pulling back, wanting to feel Leeta’s hands on her skin. “You can touch me too. I want—I want that.”

“Do you like this?” Leeta murmured, as she slipped her hands underneath Carla’s shirt. Carla nodded.

“Would you like me to touch you too?” she asked, voice so gentle. “Your chest?”

Carla squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She really, really did. She wanted so much.

“Carla? Carla, look at me?”

Carla opened her eyes. Leeta was watching her carefully.

“You have to tell me what you want, Carla. What you like. Just talk to me, all right? This is all at your pace.”

“I—I want to feel you,” Carla said, her most pressing need.

Leeta smiled, hands coming back down to play at the hem of Carla’s shirt. “Would you like to take this off?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to do it, or would you like to?”

Carla’s shirts all tended to be open-backed or have zips to allow for her wings, and this one was no exception. It had a zip, and Carla reached behind herself to undo it and pull it off. Then, smiling hesitantly at Leeta, she took off her own bra as well, letting it fall to the floor.

“Lovely,” Leeta said, and Carla felt herself flush with pleasure. “May I touch you?”

“Please,” Carla said, already leaning forward again. “Oh please.”

The next morning, Carla woke up to a face full of straight black hair, having curled around Leeta in her sleep, hugging her from behind. They were both naked, and Carla’s breasts were pressed against Leeta’s back. She wanted to giggle at it all. It had been so nice. Leeta was so wonderful.

She’d been so careful. Careful and kind, and maybe, sometimes, just that side of tentative.

It turned out that Carla might not have cared much about sex in general, but being intimate with someone she really cared about was very, very different.

It had been so nice.

But Carla’s leave was over today. She was up this early because she had reports to type and observations to list and then she had to go into work. See what Angel thought of her “self-study” and if it had done any good. Carla thought it had. She really, finally was starting to understand what True Love meant, not just how it looked, or how it sounded in a story. Even with watching her parents, she’d missed the development of it, the embryonic stage where it burst forth into life.

Now, with Leeta, she understood. What chemistry was and why it was so important. How it could make things last, with the proper communication.

Carla wasn’t sorry that she was going back to work today. She was excited and sure. More sure of anything in her life. This was it. She was going to do it. She was going to be a proper cupid and really be able to make love matches come true.

That thought finally propelled her to get out of bed and into the shower. Then she got dressed in the frilliest, happiest outfit she owned, and spent a ridiculous amount of time coaxing her hair into shaped bows. By the time she was finished getting ready and was tap-tap-tapping away on her report, Leeta was stirring.

“Good morning,” Leeta said, rolling over to look at Carla and crossing her arms under her bare breasts. “You look very special.”

Carla grinned. “Good morning! It’s a special day, don’t you think? Did you sleep well?”

Leeta nodded and sat up, stretching. “Mmm, very well. A full stomach will do that to you.”

Carla beamed. “Was it good?”

“Delicious. I haven’t eaten that well in ages.” Leeta slid over to where Carla was seated, fingers curling underneath her chin as she ducked down for a quick kiss. “Or enjoyed myself so much.”

“I’m glad,” Carla said, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“And you? Did you like it?”

Carla stuck out her tongue. Leeta had only asked her that question about a zillion times last night. “Yes,” she said simply. “A lot. Just like I told you before.”

“Nothing wrong with making sure,” Leeta said, tone pleased. She kissed Carla again before pulling back. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Of course! Towels and a robe are already there,” Carla said. She closed her laptop. “I’ll go start your tea for you.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Carla was more than a little nervous when she flew into work. Not only because of her meeting with Angel, but because, well, Tristan. They hadn’t talked at all since yesterday, and Carla had planned to call him, but then she’d been busy with Leeta and—and—

Tristan had a prejudice, and it wasn’t Leeta’s fault, and Carla was happy, and oh, she just wanted Tristan to understand that!

Tristan was hovering anxiously above the desk when Carla flew in. He was gnawing on a square of peanut brittle, the kind that took effort to chew. The kind you ate when you were worried and needed to occupy yourself with something sweet.

“Um,” Carla said, by way of greeting.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan blurted out immediately. “I, uh, I thought about it some more. And it’s not my business, but if—if you really think you’ve found love, then I should be happy for you. I am happy for you. Because love is—love is . . .” He bit off another corner of the brittle. “And I’ll—I’ll try to be nice, because you deserve that, and maybe I was a little judgmental in the beginning anyway and—”

“Tristan.”

He froze. “Yes?”

Carla smiled. “I forgive you.”

He sagged, plopping back down into his chair. “Oh good. I was worried I really ruined something. I just— You’re my friend, and I worry about you, and I guess that I do have some species-ist in me, and I’m trying really hard to stop—” He bit into the brittle with a crack, and Carla laughed.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Maybe we can meet for lunch, and I can tell you just why I’m happy.”

“I’d like that,” Tristan said. “And, uh. Maybe you can, um. Apologize to Miss Absinthe for me? Or I could. I will. If she—if she makes you happy.”

Carla blushed and grinned brightly. “She really, really does.”

The intercom went off just then, startling both of them, and Tristan hurried to answer.

“Hello? Oh! Yes, I’m sorry! She’ll be right in!” He hung up. “Angel’s ready for you!”

“Oh, right!” Carla shook her head. She’d almost forgotten how nervous she was. “Okay! I’ll—I’ll just . . . go, then!”

Tristan smiled at her. “Don’t worry.” He nodded toward the door. “I think you’ll like the news.”

Carla took a deep breath and then flew to the door, pushed it open, and headed inside.

“Good morning, Carla.” Angel smiled at her from behind the desk.

“Good morning! I’m, um, I’m sorry about the wait.”

Angel’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m sure you and Tristan had something important to talk about.”

Carla swallowed. Angel definitely knew.

But Carla’d been allowed to go on leave anyway. And Angel was smiling, now that she was back.

“Carla,” Angel said, hands folded. “I wanted to talk to you about Aphrodite Agency’s nondiscrimination policy.”

“Um,” Carla said, wings fluttering nervously. “All right.”

“As you know, we strive to uphold the idea that love is for anyone and everyone is capable of it, regardless of sex, gender, or species.”

“Yes?”

“And based on your reports, it seems that, contrary to all of our prior knowledge, incubi and succubi can now be added to the list of species capable of love.”

“Oh? Oh!” Carla nodded vigorously, so much that her hair bows bobbled. “Yes! Yes, while it seems as though it’s a rarer phenomenon, what with them being an aromantic species on the whole, it looks as though romantic Sparks might be found in as many as one percent of all succubi and incubi. Statistically, that’s right around how many aromantic people exist in the world of the romantically inclined. Which is a pretty big number!”

“Yes, I’ve been using your reports to make further inquiries of our own. And I’m sorry to say that it appears as though our equipment was never calibrated to include succubi and incubi Sparks. Primarily because of prejudices and conflicting, ah, personalities.”

“I knew it.” Carla clapped her hands. “My, um, my main source was pretty specific on the feelings that a lust-clouded mind can induce. Since we never accounted for those overriding emotions that also addle logic, we missed all the Sparks underneath.”

Angel nodded. “I’m having a team of Matchmakers update our database as we speak, to include any of the species that ping for Spark potential. I’m planning on releasing statements to encourage them to approach the agency now. There will have to be a screening to better determine Sparks, but I don’t believe the majority of the species will attempt to take advantage of the new system.”

Carla thought back to how wistful Leeta had been over the idea of really, finally getting a match and shook her head. “I’d think that we would pretty much only be approached by the romantically inclined. In fact, I think it might take some doing to actually get them to come in. There’s, um, there’s a lot of deep-seated feelings on their side too.”

“Yes,” Angel said, smiling again. “Which is why I would like part of your new duties to be heading our new Incubi and Succubi Outreach Program.”

Carla gasped. “I— Me?”

“Our motto is that everyone is deserving of love. And we’ve let this exclusion go for far, far too long. I feel that your open nature and blossoming abilities to read situations and chemistry make you the best fit for the job. Put simply: you were the first one to give them the proper chance at all. And, due to your current situation, you’re also in one of the best positions to begin outreach. Congratulations on the match, by the way.” The smile grew. “It wasn’t the outcome I was expecting, but it certainly isn’t bad news.”

Carla blushed to the roots of her hair. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Angel said, “working on the I&S Outreach Program will require you to work hand-in-hand with Matchmakers, simply because we know so little about incubi and succubi Sparks.”

“I understand,” Carla said. And, really, she didn’t even mind so much. Helping romantically inclined succubi and incubi find love was so much more important than making True Love matches on her own. “I’ll do my best!”

“That being said . . . I would like to see your newfound chemistry aptitude in the field. You’re still one of our best shots, and even though I’d like to eventually see you specialized, right now the best thing we can do is continue with your training to hone your skills.”

Carla swallowed, scarcely able to believe it. Was Angel really saying . . .?

“I’d like you to go on another shoot. On your own.”

Carla’s eyes widened. “No Matchmaker?”

Angel smiled. “All you. I’d like to reassess your skills. From your reports, you’ve clearly realized an understanding of chemistry. The agency would like to see that in action.” Angel slid a file across the desk.

“I’ll go get my quiver!”

After hurriedly making another appointment to start discussing the I&S Outreach Program, Carla zoomed away at what was, frankly, probably an unsafe speed to fly indoors, Tristan’s laughter following behind her. She retrieved her quiver and bow and made it to her desk in record time, before reverently picking up the file for the Random Match.

Jerrell, human, age twenty-seven, pinged at ready for a Sweetheart match, with True Love potential. She read over his bio, then scanned the dates and times of where he’d be, and flew off, shrinking and going invisible on the way out.

Once she got to the bakery where Jerrell worked, she spent some time just watching him, listening to how he interacted with his coworkers, paying attention to how he obviously cared about the baked goods he made, how it was clear he cared even more that people would eat and enjoy them.

When an older, dark-haired man rolled in on a low-backed wheelchair, cheerfully greeted as “Doc” by everyone behind the counter, Carla squinted, worrying her lips between her teeth. Something was going to happen here. She could feel it.

Doc went to a table with a slice of pumpkin cheesecake, and, when he was finished, requested to give his compliments to the chef. The woman at the counter grinned and went back to call Jerrell out. Carla watched, attention rapt, as Doc caught sight of Jerrell, and his eyes just . . . softened.

Before she could even think about it, she had drawn her bow and shot. Jerrell blinked, pausing, taking Doc in, then kept walking toward him.

“Hi? Uh, I’m the pastry chef. Melody said you wanted to speak with me?”

“Good to meet you,” Doc said, smiling and holding out his hand.

Carla watched and listened, methodically taking notes, and it was only after Jerrell had smiled one last time and returned to his kitchen that she even thought to check the readings.

Eighty-nine percent match for Sweetheart, with strong overtones of turning into more with time. The highest match reading she’d ever gotten. And she’d shot on a whim!

Carla hugged herself and grinned. She couldn’t wait to tell Tristan, to write her report to Angel, to tell Leeta—everything. It looked like she was finally understanding chemistry after all. And all the things that came with it.

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Loud and Clear

Counterbalance

Texture Like Sun (as Ils Greyhart)

Aidan Wayne is a big believer in character-driven stories with happy endings. This is not to say that stories can’t contain a little (or a lot) of grief, just that at the end of it all, expect there to be bandages and hugs. They particularly like to write about minority characters because, damn it, they deserve happy endings too. When not writing, Aidan enjoys practicing aerial, martial arts, and ASL, and watching reality cooking shows. They are probably in the middle of twelve projects as you read this.

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