Page 1 of August's Thief
CHAPTER 1
“Good afternoon. Make yourself at home. I’m CUPID.”
I’d been warned about this: the stern disembodied voice and the sterile room, empty save for a pink couch, a low table adjacent and a box of tissues. A peculiar set-up—all of it. But I’d failed to find love or even regular sex using conventional dating apps, so what did I have to lose? CUPID’s marketing boasted a one hundred per cent success rate in discovering a perfect match.
Every rule had an exception.
“We’ve been reviewing your dating history, August Angel,” purred CUPID from somewhere behind my head. “Quite the read.”
“Yes.”
My face heated. CUPID’s background checkshad been ratherthorough.
“Your Bumble profile was particularly amusing,” they added. “Shall I remind you of it?”
I hadn’t joined the app to provide entertainment. “Um… no, I’d rather you didn’t.”
No reminder necessary. That miserable attempt at finding love proved the final nail in the coffin. In desperation, I’duploaded my photo and bio upside down, hoping some horny sod would turn their screen around and swipe right by mistake. And a few cack-handed souls did; three even made it as far as meeting up. After asking why I had minestrone soup dripping down one side of my face, the first didn’t even hang around long enough to order a beer. The second knocked back the lion’s share of a bottle of wine, then suggested I join a monastery. The third, a pleasant chap named Alfie, turned out to be married and straight. Afterwards, in the pub car park, he offered me fifty quid in exchange for a blow job. We still texted occasionally.
“I suggest you break ties with Alfie. Not good for your mental health.”
Christ, had this bot wormed their way into my brain?
“And anyhow, you won’t need him. Not by the time we’ve finished with you.”
No win, no fee.I admired CUPID’s confidence. And their bluntness. Not that I found their company especially comfortable.
“Can we… um… move on, please? I’m paying you a considerable amount of money to find love, not rake over my previous disasters.”
“So impatient!” CUPID hummed. “Very well. Close your eyes, August Angel. Relax. Breathe. Empty your mind. Then, in your own time, tell me what your heart desires.”
Hah! That was just cruel.
“Allow your heart to run free.”
I let out a groan.Run free?My heart had barely learned how to crawl.
“I… I want a… a man. A man I can tuck under my arm,” I began. And my face heated again, because in the grand scheme of priorities ‘a man I can tuck under my arm’might not be at the top. More to the point, beggars like me couldn’t be choosers. I should have just stopped at man.
“That’s good, August,” purred CUPID. “Keep going.”
Fuck it. In for a penny and all that. “I want a… a femme. Someone that likes to fool around with mascara and shit. With fabulous eyes gazing up at me like I’m everything he ever wanted too. Like he really needs me. Someone who sees beyond this shitty mess on my face. Sees beyond my pots of money but lets me spend it on him anyhow. Lets me dress him like a fucking doll. Lets me wait on him hand and foot. Pretty hands, pretty feet—I’m a sucker for pretty toes. A toe sucker. I want someone who lets me worship him like a disciple. Someone who curls up under my… my wing, for want of a better word, and lets me love him like he’s never known love before.”
Thank fuck the room didn’t have a mirror; my face must have been scarlet. The normal half, at least. Christ, what on earth had possessed me to spew all that? And where had it all come from? As the silence stretched, a dreadful thought struck me that this might be an elaborate set-up.
At last, CUPID gave a computerised version of a dry cough. “Is that… all?”
Was that sarcasm? “Yes, pretty much. I mean, it would help if he was quite local too. Not too far from London. But I’d fly to the ends of the earth for the right guy. And I’d... I’d care for him, with everything I have.”
A sigh echoed around the room, like a draft of cool air. “You have a very big heart, August Angel.”
I swallowed. “Yes, I do.”
The biggest.A huge fucking cavern overflowing with love and affection and no one to offer it to. And right now, it was on the cusp of sobbing. “You’re not… not like other dating agencies, are you?”
“Glad you noticed,” answered CUPID drily.
“You think outside the box.”
