Page 24 of Touch

Love was done thinking of Anger the moment he left the woods. “The Court should have let me choose,” she protests. “How perceptive of them to elect Holly when they aren’t here to scout candidates. But if they wish for me to do this my way, The Fate Court should permit me to select Andrew’s mate.”

“Oh, hush,” Wonder rebukes. “You’re not allowed to deny how picky you are. Moreover, The Court wanted an immediate selection. They told The Stars to find a mate the human has noticed before. Someone who’s caught his attention in a favorable way. It’s as plain as that.”

It’s a sensible request, provided Love can get past the knowledge that Andrew has paid any attention to Holly. “We have power over mortals. Yet we serve them.”

Wonder contemplates that. “Most of us like to think we govern them.”

Yes. The human world is fragile, which gives deities authority over this realm.

Granted, humans touch beautifully. With all their romantic entanglements and complications, their hands accomplish the kind of fervor Love has never stopped dwelling on.

That aside, humans are pitiful at mastering the other intricacies of courtship. They have sex with the wrong people and disregard the right ones. Once the thrill of new beginnings has ebbed, their passion segues into shaky terrain.Disagreements. Misunderstandings. They break up, then suffer, either becoming woeful or infuriated.

Then irrationality sets in. They do pointless things like quarantine themselves inside their homes until a soft layer of stink covers them, or they overdose on self-destruction. Not least of all, they pity themselves and cry often.

Some mortals indeed love well, but most don’t. And none do it perfectly.

They require help from their betters, who can guide emotions and keep hearts intact, and Love does enjoy being better. She sweeps their past mistakes under the rug, then provides them with an impeccable life mate and an enduring bond.

In the midst of toying with them, she ultimately cleans up their messes. This is her destiny.

Andrew is not. One night changes nothing. Essentially, she doesn’t know him. Matching this man is preferable to condemning him. Notwithstanding her earlier protests, it will be easier to see Andrew enamored than to see him die.

Wonder’s voice is like a candle in the pearlescent woods—glowing with possibility. “Very well,” she says. “There is another way to fix this.”

8

Love’s head jolts up. Wonder’s verdant green irises are kaleidoscopes—bright, hypnotic rings often urging people to look closer. In light of her past torture, that she remains optimistic at the most dismal of times is difficult to accept.

The goddess admires the forest while grooming her long curls. “I like it here. I’m stuck in a windy, rainy city. Too much distraction makes my job harder, but this village is quiet. You get to concentrate.”

“I’ll trade you,” Love replies.

“Would you? The snow is divine.”

In many respects, but Love still prefers the thoughtful color shades of fall, the flirty hues of spring, and the bold palettes of summer. She’s not fond of the somber, gloomy, metallic tints of winter. It’s hardly surprising that humans need more of her influence in places like this.

But would she honestly trade being here? Yes. No.

Love uses the toe of her boot to nudge Wonder’s calf. “Windy, rainy city? Wonder, of all people, is actually complaining? You’ve been to worse regions.”

“Would the Goddess of Love prefer that I take after her and lament my position?”

“Ha. You’re not remotely akin to me. Nor are you Sorrow.”

“Nor the Goddess of Happiness.”

“Thank Fates for that!”

They laugh. Happiness is the most nauseatingly cheerful being alive. She once advised Love to smile more often and attempted to tickle her—at which point, Love gave the goddess an appropriate scare. Wielding an iron arrow, Love fake-scratched Happiness, thus convincing the female she was about to turn into a rabid, love-battered mess. It had been a glorious two minutes.

Love’s mirth ebbs. She trusts Wonder will get to the point sooner rather than later.

The goddess inspects the perimeter, presumably to make sure Envy, Sorrow, and Anger have truly left. “The Stars say if he can see you, he can kill you. But if he can see you, then he can also mate with you.”

Love couldn’t have heard her right. “What?”

“He can love you,” the female says with a conspiratorial gleam. “And if he can love you, you have the chance to become like him.”