Bonds of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 2)

The Finitsal Ruins is a place at the very edge of the island, with absolutely nothing around it for miles. At one time, the structures here were probably impressive with their huge columns and crumbling statues, but now it just looks depressing. What once was a huge stately building is now a collapsed pile of rubble.

The carriage driver dropped us off and refused to stay and wait, no matter how much money Ronak offered him. He murmured something about the place being haunted before taking off like he was trying to outrun the shit stuck to his shoe.

Technically, the place is haunted. But no more than usual. I can see a few ghosts milling around aimlessly, mumbling incoherent thoughts. As the only other entities in the Veil with me, I’ve had plenty of ghostly encounters.

Too bad they’re terrible conversationalists and have no idea about anything going on around them. I’m used to ignoring them by now, but I can see a couple of female fae ghosts circling around a statue, and a few more male faes over by the collapsed building.

Besides the ghosts, the place does have an unnaturally cold feeling to it—like the weather isn’t quite right here.

“Good place to stash a prisoner you don’t want anyone to find,” Sylred says grimly.

Ronak grunts in agreement. “Split up.”

Ronak heads toward the largest of the collapsed buildings, Evert heads to the statues, and Sylred circles around back to the fence containing an overgrown garden.

I float around slowly, looking for any sign that Okot might be here, but the place looks untouched and forgotten. It doesn’t seem like anyone has been here for years.

“Over here!”

I whirl around and zoom past the columns toward the direction of Sylred’s voice. He’s crouched down on the garden floor, wiping dirt away from a spot nearby a toppled pillar. At first, I can’t see what he’s doing, until he swipes again and I notice the trap door.

Ronak and Evert come into the garden from different directions at nearly the same time and stride over to him. Sylred attempts to shove the pillar off, but the thing must weigh a ton, because it doesn’t budge.

“Ronak?” Sylred says, moving aside.

Ronak moves toward it and with one hand, pushes it easily aside without any effort. When he moves to pull the lever on the trap door, Sylred stops him. “Remember what happened the last time?”

Evert snorts. “And the time before that.”

“And probably a few other times, too,” Sylred adds amicably.

Ronak grunts. “Not my fault handles are always so fragile.”

“You snap them right off, every time. Then we have to spend that much longer trying to wedge the damn doors open. Let us handle this part.”

Ronak moves aside and with a forceful heave, Sylred manages to wrench open the trap door. “There’s a drop straight down. Maybe about ten feet.”

“I’ll go first,” Ronak says. He squats down and then leaps down into the dark space. After a moment, he calls for the others to follow.

I float on ahead of them, although the space is pitch black. “How are you guys seeing anything?” I look back to see three sets of glowing genfin cat-eyes. “Of course you can see in the dark.”

The dirt tunnel is cramped and short, but after a while, it opens up to a larger space. In the ceiling, there’s an ancient piece of warped and cracked glass that’s allowing a few weak beams of sunlight to filter in, and the sight stops me cold.

“Oh my gods!”

I rush forward to the wall where Okot sits chained. He’s slumped over and breathing erratically, his face and arms covered in bruises.

I settle in front of him, running my hands over his face and hating that they go right through him. “Okot,” I whisper on a choked sob.

His head snaps up. “Emelle?”

I rear back in surprise. “Okot?”

For a moment, he looks right at me. Then his red-rimmed irises shift away, landing on the guys. “She’s here. I can feel her. Where is she?” he croaks. “Is she hurt? Is she safe?”

“She’s…back in the Veil,” Sylred says.

I’m not sure the answer registers, because Okot mumbles something unintelligible and then slumps his head back down against his chest. Ronak strides forward and yanks the chains off him.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Okot lifts his head and struggles to stand on his own two feet as Ronak steadies him.

“He can’t walk out of here on his own,” Sylred murmurs to Evert. “I’ll run back and find a horse or a carriage to hire if I can.”

Evert nods grimly. “Get some food and water, too. We’ll have to find a healer once we get back into the city.” Sylred nods and sprints away.

With Ronak’s help, Okot is helped down the passage and hoisted up to the surface. In the sunlight, I can see what terrible shape he’s really in. Besides being covered in bruises, he’s deathly pale and has cracked, bleeding lips.

Ronak sets him down against the crumbling building. Okot has his eyes closed and his breathing is labored.

“He’s in bad shape,” Ronak mutters.

Evert’s lips are in a thin line. “He’s obviously been down there all this time without food or water. And lamassus pull most of their strength from the sunlight. He barely had enough to survive on. Too much iron contact, too.”

They watch him, grim-faced, as I hover at his side. I pretend I can smell him as I put my face in the crook of his neck. My sweet, gentle bull fae has been punished like this, left to die in a terrible way, all because of me.

We wait for two agonizing hours until Sylred comes back with horses pulling an empty cart. Ronak picks up Okot as if he weighs nothing, even though he’s bulkier and arguably heavier. He carefully sets Okot down in the back of the cart, and Sylred jumps back up to drive.

Evert props him up and pours some water down his throat. Most of it drips back down his chin, but I see his throat moving a tiny bit, taking in a few precious gulps.

“Don’t you dare die,” I tell him sternly.

If I demand it, maybe he’ll listen.