Sheer Cupidity: A Standalone Cupidity Romance (Heart Hassle Book 5)

BELREN

I blink. At least, I think I do, but I can’t feel my eyes, so it’s hard to tell.

Wait, why can’t I feel my eyes? That’s probably concerning. I should be concerned. But instead, I feel a bit…floaty?

The winged female glances up at me expectantly. A roaring sounds in my ears, and I shake my head, something like panic clenching my stomach. “What…what is happening? What is this place?”

My voice jolts me again, as if I’ve forgotten what I sound like. Unfeeling eyes and unfamiliar voice. Call me pessimistic, but I don’t think those are good signs. Besides, what kind of fucked up voice is this? Was it always this…raspy? Maybe I need to cough.

I try to do just that, but coughing without feeling the cough in my throat is really strange. Worse than the eyes, to be honest.

The female sighs, her white wings twitching with something like agitation as she tosses her gleaming gold hair over her shoulders. She opens a drawer in front of her and pulls out a pamphlet and starts reading it off in a stale monotone. “Welcome, newly arrived soul. You have perished, and your mortal life is now behind you. But you need not worry, because the afterlife is where all your dreams may come true, starting with deciding your new purpose. We have many options to choose from. So relax, enjoy your new start, and pick the path you believe is right for you. I can also have a recruiter come speak with you if you’d like more information.”

She flops the paper back in her drawer with a flourish and slams it closed before looking up at me with an arched brow. “Haven’t had to read that for a while. Most souls that get to me are already quite ready to move on.”

All I can do is stare at her for a moment. “I’m…truly dead?”

“Yes.”

Okay. So that explains the general numbness to my entire body.

“Are you…an angel?” I ask, gaze flicking to her white wings. They seem to glisten a bit more, as if light is shining through them.

“Of course I’m an angel.”

I huff out a breath. “Right.”

Attention swiveling, I look around, taking in the space all over again. There are countless translucent bodies behind me in a winding line. I can’t even see the end of it. This place just keeps going, right along with the…souls. The person directly behind me is standing off a few feet, staring straight ahead, his body just as see-through as all the rest.

I look down at my own hands, frowning at the transparency.

I’m dead.

Dead.

My mind reels, trying to remember what happened, but it comes up blank. I know basic things, like which way is up and the fact that her hair looks like the color of gilded wheat fields, but I know nothing about myself. I lift my gaze back up to the angel behind the desk. “What’s my name?”

She shakes her head. “There are no names here. Who and what you were in your past life has no bearing here in the afterlife. You may get a different designation when you pick your new job.”

Irritation surges through me, and I find myself taking a step forward. Or…I suppose I just glide a bit closer, I don’t fucking know. “I don’t care about the afterlife,” I snap. “I want to know everything about who I am. How did I die?”

“Who you were,” she corrects. “And look behind you. See all of those souls? There are thousands more every second, from many different realms—and that’s just in my line. You think I know all their names and how they died? We couldn’t possibly keep track of something like that,” she says with a shake of her head. “Besides, your death is irrelevant to us. All that matters is that you’re here, and it’s now time for you to be processed to take your rightful place in the Veil.”

Denial, heavy and quick, surges up in me. Then I get a flash of that single memory again—pink hair, red wings. This just feels so wrong.

“I don’t want to be processed. Send me back. I can’t be dead.”

All of the pity from her face leaves, irritation taking over as she narrows her eyes on me. “You are dead, and if you don’t choose a job, the Veil will choose it for you. So I suggest you lose that tone and face facts, because I have a lot of souls to process, and you’re holding up my line.”

Behind me, the souls continue to just stand around morosely, appearing too out of it to even care that I’m holding up the line. Between their taciturn mood and the strange grayish-white lighting in the massive room that seems to have clouds for a ceiling, this entire place feels dour and humdrum.

It gives me the fucking creeps.

Frustration makes me want to scream, but I know that won’t do me any good, so I decide to change tactics. Releasing the tension in my demeanor, I lean forward and paste a charming smile on my face. Maybe it’s not the best plan to try to flirt with an angel, but I have a feeling life-me would’ve done the same thing. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, angel,” I croon. “I apologize for holding up your line. You must work very hard.”

She’s quick to nod in agreement. “I do, as a matter of fact. The paperwork is absolutely abysmal.”

I let out a tsk. “Someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to spend hours slogging away on paperwork.”

It seems that even angels like to be called beautiful, because her wings shine brighter, and a small smile comes over her face. “I keep saying that we need to make things electronic, but my supervisor insists that new souls need an angelic touch,” she tells me with a slight roll of her eyes. “The archangels have a much more exciting job.”

I have no idea what electronic means or what kinds of things an archangel does, but I nod anyway. “They should listen to your suggestions. I’m sure you have lots of great ideas.”

“So many,” she replies with an exaggerated nod.

“I can tell that about you. You’re a forward-thinker, and you don’t get caught up in the dredges of tradition or the constraints of rules. That’s a rare trait, and it should be celebrated. Actively sought after, even. I for one am honored that I even get to talk to you.”

A melodic giggle leaves her lips. “Oh, stop it.”

My grin widens as I shoot her what I hope is a flirtatious smile. “I’m serious, angel. Simply being in your presence is a consolation for being dead. I bet if you could look it up, you’d see I died and went to heaven because my heart stopped when I saw you.”

Another laugh escapes, her cheeks filling with a pretty blush as she looks me up and down. “You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?”

No idea. I’m winging this.

“Perhaps I was,” I say smoothly. “Being the forward-thinker that you are, is there any way you can find out? I bet it would help break up the monotony of the day if you take a peep and see who I was, or better yet, send me back?”

Her entire demeanor suddenly shifts. The smile on her face drops, eyes hardening, even her wings dim. “Nice try.”

Damn.

Dropping all flirtatious pretenses, my voice goes hard. “I need you to send me back.”

“Impossible. Now be a good soul and pick a job so I can process you to the next available representative.”

My eyes dart down to the desk where the array of afterlife brochures are stacked haphazardly. “You expect people to hear that they’ve died and to just…pick a damn job?”

“What, did you expect to relax in the afterlife?”

My brows pull down in a thoughtful frown. “Well…yeah, actually.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you think I want to process an endless line of souls? Do you think I want to be here right now, having this conversation I’ve already had with other difficult spirits a million times, when I could instead be lounging somewhere on a speckled beach sunning my glorious wings?”

Her wings are pretty glorious, even I can admit that.

“Erm…no?”

“Correct. So pick a job like everybody else, and then you can move forward to test your compatibility.”

“You’re very snippety for an angel.”

“You’re very chatty for a pre-processed soul.”

She’s right, considering the translucents behind me are rather quiet. I don’t know why I’m different, why I seem more aware, but I’m not like most of the dazed-out spirits in line. Thank fuck.

She taps a testy fingernail on the pile of brochures. “Tick tock. Pick a job.”

Turning back around, I try to cross my arms, but they go through each other and generally look ridiculous, so I drop them back to my sides. Levelling her with a glare, I shake my head. “I refuse.”

The angel doesn’t look impressed with my answer. “You refuse?”

“Yes. I refuse to pick an afterlife job.”

Her teeth grit together so hard I can hear she’s a bit more…solid than me. Must be nice. “You are dead. Just accept it. It’s time for you to move on.”

“See, you say that, but I can fucking feel it all the way down to my see-through shoes that something is wrong. I was supposed to do…something. Or…there was someone.” Uncertainty swirls inside me in a whirl of red and pink, but I don’t know how to explain it. “There was something important I was a part of and…” The thought trails off with my words, my mind unable to grasp any solid memory. “Look, I can’t just be dead. I need to go back.”

“What’s the holdup here?”

The angel and I both whip our heads to the left, finding a male striding up to us. He has green-tinged skin and two large eyes, his shoulders nothing more than a ledge for a mop of golden hair to grow out of. Based on the matching white wings, I can tell that he’s another angel.

“He’s a difficult soul, sir. Having trouble accepting his place in the afterlife,” the female tells him as he comes to a stop in front of her desk. He casts a look at the line behind me, as if he’s tallying how much I’ve affected it.

But I don’t care that I’m being a difficult soul. There’s something nagging me at the back of my mind, roiling in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I was supposed to be somewhere, except I went and died instead. It’s like walking into a room but forgetting why you went there, though you know it’s because you needed something.

“Alright,” the green-skinned angel turns to me. He has a stern yet patronizing look on his face, as if I’m a wayward adolescent he’s about to discipline. “We have a lot of souls to process. You need to choose some job options so that we can move you along.”

“Is that all you two care about?” My voice cuts through the hollow din of the endless room.

“Yes. We are processing angels. That’s our job. Just like you need to pick a job. You know, that thing we’ve been asking you to pick multiple times now,” he says curtly.

I shake my head in irritation, but even that feels wrong—to be in motion without feeling it. No neck muscles to bunch, no skin to stretch. It’s like my nerves have gone paralyzed though I’m still able to move.

I don’t want to just choose a job. I shouldn’t be here, but…I’m not sure where I should be.

It’s as if someone cut into my head and then swiped my mind with a feather duster. Everything that was once written and known about myself and my life has been wiped away, leaving nothing behind but chalky dust. The pieces of sediment settled in the bottom of my skull are the only remnants of who I was.

“You’re the supervisor, right? Do an angelic trick and send my spirit back.”

He looks at me with both pity and annoyance. “That’s not an option,” he says, gesturing to the desk. “Now, if you could just look through your options here—”

I hold up a pair of silvery, see-through hands to ward him off. “No, you’re not hearing me. I have to go back. There was something that I was doing or…not doing. Or something that I needed, or…something,” I end feebly.

The two angels share a look. “See what I mean?” the female whispers.

The male murmurs something back, but I’m caught up in my own frustration, so I ignore them. I whirl around, as if the other dead souls in the curving, endless line behind me can give me some answers. But all of them are unfamiliar, and instead of jarring any kind of memory, they just leave me with more confusion.

How the hell did I die?

That seems like a really stupid thing to do.

When I turn back around, the male steps forward. “Listen, some souls have a difficult time acclimating at first, but it will get easier. There’s nothing you need to do anymore. You can let go of those worries.”

I know he’s trying to be reassuring, but it’s just pissing me off. I don’t want his placating comfort.

He gives me a long look. “Your past life is just that—your past. It’s time to focus on the afterlife now.”

I try to ball my hands into fists to push out some of my inner frustration, but my fingers go through my palms. I have this useless, incorporeal body, no memories, and an unsettling feeling like I need to hurry up and get back…somewhere.

The female blows some golden hair out of her face and snatches up the pamphlets with impatience. “Just pick a—”

I surge forward, not stopping until my lower half is completely inside her desk and I’m looming over her. “Stop with the godsdamned brochures!” I yell at her, my frustration erupting. “I need to go ba—”

My words abruptly cut off when my eyes inadvertently snag onto one of the brochures she has clutched in her hand. One I hadn’t noticed before.

An echo of a heartbeat pounds in my ears. My mouth falls open, and I’m unable to look away. “What’s that?”

She looks down at the papers fanned in her hand. “Which one?”

“That one,” I say, pointing at the peek of red I can see.

She drops the pamphlets on her desk and as soon as she spreads them out, I lean down, locking onto the picture of a beautiful female with pink hair and red wings.

Almost subconsciously, my fingers come down to graze against the paper, my fingertips passing right through it.

Pink hair. Red wings.

Pink hair.

Red wings.

Pink—

Memory suddenly surges through me like a lightning bolt coming down from the clouds to strike right into my skull, and I stumble back, away from the desk.

It hurts.

I didn’t think anything could hurt in death, but I was very wrong.

My back arcs and my head is thrown back, mouth gaping open in a soundless scream while something surges through me like red-hot lava.

Memories rush through me like a swarm of wasps stinging me all at once, until I’m unable to pinpoint them all individually. My life plays out from start to finish, reeling like pictures behind my eyes. When I get all the way to the end, my mouth is gasping for breath I don’t need, but I’m somehow suffocating anyway.

I’m Belren. Cernu fae. Master thief. The rebel and brother. I stepped in front of Prince Elphar, the high fae prick, and took the raw attack of power before it could hit her—Lex. I saw what he was going to do, and I launched into action.

It was simply instinctual. I couldn’t stand the thought of her getting hurt. In my gut, I knew that if it hit her when she wasn’t in the Veil, it would be fatal. She would cease to exist—even more than the way I now have. If his power hit her, her afterlife was going to be extinguished. So I stepped in front of her. I took the strike instead.

Remembering my life and subsequent death gives me whiplash.

My body jerks forward as I look around wildly, knowledge sitting heavy in my eyes. “I remember.”

As soon as the words pass my lips, the angels look horrified.

“Oh no,” the female says with a gasp before looking over at the green-skinned male. He has a grim look on his face. “You’re not supposed to remember. You need to forget so you can be processed,” she hisses adamantly, as if it’s a matter of life and death. But I’ve already died, so what’s the worst that could happen?

“Listen,” Green begins, his eyes darting around. “Just stay calm, alright?”

Calm? How the fuck can I be calm when I can practically feel the surge of power that hit my body, killing me before I even hit the ground? How can I be calm when all of my memories have rushed back in like a flood, making me stagger on my insubstantial feet?

“That fucking prince killed me,” I growl.

“Shh,” the female says, shooing her hands at me as she gets to her feet. “You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. You need to settle down, or you’ll get—”

“Wait. This is the Veil,” I say, the realization just dawning on me. “Where’s Lex?”

“Who?”

I lean forward, my face twisted up in pissed off urgency. “Summon Emelle, the Head of Cupidity. The cupid boss. Whatever she calls herself. I need to speak to her.”

Her eyes widen. “How do you…”

“Just do it!” I shout, my voice echoing throughout the massive room.

“Don’t shout at her.” Green steps forward with a scowl on his face, trying to block her from view. “Settle down.”

“Settle down?” I snarl. I can remember everything, and they expect me to just…settle down?

The two of them share a look, silently communicating something with uneasy glances.

“Call the cupid boss. Right. Now.”

Green shakes his head. “We can’t do that. You shouldn’t even know about cupids yet.”

“Call. Her.” My tone is lethal, my fists want to punch something, and I’m brimming with furious worry. I don’t know what happened to Lex or Emelle or any of the others. Hell, I don’t even know if the war is still going on, or if we won or lost. I need to go back. I need to get out of this damn afterlife and have my body again.

I need to go kill that fucking prince and find my sister and then make sure Lex is safe. What if Prince Elphar killed them all? What if my death was for nothing? Angry tension makes my shoulders go stiff.

“You need to accept that you’ve died,” Green tells me with his hands held up in front of him, like he’s trying to placate a child. “Trust me when I say that you need to let go of those memories. You shouldn’t have them. You should’ve stayed wiped clean.”

“Wiped clean?” I ask with derision. “Is that what you call it?” Not remembering who or what I am or how I died didn’t feel clean. It felt desolate. Aching. Like there was a giant, gaping hole inside of me.

“The living have no place with the dead. Not even in your thoughts.”

But that’s not true at all. I may be dead, but I’m still me. They can wipe me clean, but those people are integral to my very soul.

I’m shaking my head before he finishes his spiel, and I start to walk away. If they won’t help me, then I’ll find someone who will. My steps go through the gleaming white floor, but I don’t pay attention to it as I spin around in the vast room that seems to be lit up by some obscure sunlight.

“Cupid! Is there a cupid in here? I need a fucking cupid!” My shout echoes like my voice has been tossed into the abyss of a never-ending cave.

The winding line of spirits watch me, confusion seeping into their porous silhouettes.

“Hello?” I call out again, but I get nothing.

My desperation rises when I catch a glimpse of two more angels appearing out of the corner of my eye. Both of them are male and burly, with scowls on their faces as they head right for me. “Emelle! Get your ass over here and help get me the hell out of here!” I yell into the mild light.

Unfortunately, some of the other souls in line start to mouth my words, and then several start to mimic me. Pretty soon, there’s a cacophony of voices screaming into the bright unknown, all of them shouting for Emelle.

Maybe it will help.

“Stop that! Be quiet!” Green and the female are frantically walking down the line, trying to get everyone to cease their shouts, but the souls seem to be too confused to really comprehend, so they just keep repeating it over and over. I’ve made the sulking, obedient dead spirits start to wander out of line, yelling incoherently, walking in circles and shouting for Emelle to help them as the angels desperately try to reinstate the peaceful, patient lines. But it’s a no-go. I’ve riled up everyone too much.

Good.

I whirl back around, energized at the mayhem I’ve created since it means the two burly angels are now dealing with the other souls instead of me. I take the momentary distraction and turn and run. Well, glide. My feet go right through the shiny floor.

I’ve only run for a few steps when a surge of white light suddenly erupts in front of me with the sound of trumpets that cuts through the soul-shouting going on. I jolt to a stop, a grimace tugging at my features as the noise digs into my eardrums with a deafening melody.

When the light fades, I blink to find a single male angel standing in front of me, clad in some sort of white drapery. I can immediately tell that this one is different from the other two I’ve been dealing with. He’s completely solid and gleaming. Aside from that, I can feel power emanating from him, something cool and pure, like rippling water in a crystal-clear lake.

I’m silent as I stand before him, but he casts his golden eyes behind me. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his tone lilting even as his face is set into a hard mask.

Green rushes over to him and bends at the waist. “Apologies, Archangel,” he says with a quick deferential bow. “We just had a little bit of a mishap, but we’re getting everyone back into order.”

Arch’s golden eyebrow arches. “Is that so? Then why aren’t these souls in line like they’re supposed to be?”

Green blanches, and I see some sweat beading on his brow. “Uh…”

The archangel looks at the wayward spirits. “Everyone back in line immediately.”

That rippling power of his seems to shoot out like a calming breeze, and immediately, all of the souls practically jump back into position like naughty children who were caught sneaking around. Within moments, the line is once again quiet and orderly. Even I can’t help but be impressed.

His heavy glare rests on me. “You. Why didn’t you get back in line like the others?” He looks at me as if he’s not seeing through me, but seeing into me. I don’t fucking like it one bit. I falter for a moment under his intense scrutiny and open my mouth to say something, but the words get caught in my throat and won’t come out.

“You may not lie to me,” Arch adds, as if he knew that’s exactly what I was going to do.

Clearing my throat, I regard him warily as my mouth opens and the truth comes spilling out, whether I want it to or not. “I remember,” I say, my tone choked. “And I want to go back.”

He cocks his head. The two of us stay locked in this awkward stare-off, and I’m unable to say anything else. I was glad for the angels who came to help us battle, but I have to say, I’m not so fond of the ones here.

“Hmm.” That’s all he says. Just a loaded, heavy hum that I have no way of interpreting.

Sweeping his eyes away from me, he settles his gaze on Green. “You know what needs to happen,” he says ominously.

Green shoots me an almost apologetic look. “Yes, Archangel. I just thought that we could get him to settle—”

“That is not your job,” Arch cuts him off. “Your job is to keep the processing moving smoothly. You cannot waste time with a soul who refuses to let go. You know the rules.”

“Wait a minute, what rules?” I cut in. When neither of them answer, I ask, “Can someone send me back?”

Arch levels me with a look. “Yes.”

For a moment, I think I’ve misheard him, but when he doesn’t say anything else, my eyes widen. “Truly? You’ll send me back?” I don’t bother to hide the hope that’s filled my tone. If I can get back, I can make sure Lex is okay. I can ensure that we fight against the prince until he’s well and truly snuffed out. Then I can track down my sister, because I’m the Horned Hook. I can track down anything or anyone. It’s what I do.

“Do it now,” Arch orders the green male.

I can’t keep the grin off my face as Green comes over. He looks like he just swallowed a bug.

I step forward, more than ready. “I’ll go back into my body, right? Will I be healed, or will I wake up injured?”

Green shoots a look at the angel before shaking his head at me. “You don’t understand what’s about to happen at all, do you?” Behind him, the female is looking at me with pity.

The smile slips off my face like sand through fingers, a feeling of dread planted in the middle of my gut, waiting to take root. “What do you mean?”

“Get on with it,” Arch orders brusquely. “Then get back to processing. This line is clogged up, and we can’t allow this kind of delay.”

“Yes, Archangel,” Green says with a sigh.

I barely notice the sound of the trumpets or the bright light as he departs again. For some reason, I feel like I’ve made a horrible mistake.

“I hate doing this,” Green mumbles as he stands in front of me with a sigh. “Why couldn’t you have just settled and chosen a job?” he asks, though it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to me.

“I tried to tell him,” the female pipes in as she once more takes a seat at her desk before shouting, “Next!”

“Wait, what’s happening?” I take a nervous step back from Green. “I thought I was being sent back?”

“You are,” he assures me, leaving me even more confused. Then his hand comes up to my chest, right over where my heart used to beat.

“What are you—” My words immediately die off when light starts to shine from beneath his palm.

His eyes are full of sympathy. “This is what happens when souls can’t let go. You shouldn’t have remembered,” he mutters. “We tried to warn you, but you just wouldn’t listen.”

I try to jerk away from his hand, but it’s like I’m frozen in place.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” Green tells me. “Souls are supposed to move on. If you can’t…”

“If I can’t…?” I’m looking down at where his hand is on my chest, noting how the light is seeping into my translucent form.

“If you can’t, then you get put back where you died…as a ghost. You’ll remember nothing. You’ll slowly go mad, desperate for answers until your waning spirit disappears completely. You’ll have no true afterlife. No job. No purpose. You’ll just…fade away when the Veil finally breaks you down into nothing.”

For the first time since I woke up dead, I feel fear. Real, soul-chilling fear.

“Wait. No…”

He shakes his head somberly. “It’s too late. I’m sorry.”

For what it’s worth, I think he means it.

With a bright flash, the light suddenly swallows me whole, taking over my every sense and making everything else disappear. The light surrounds me. Consumes me. Sinks into everything that I am. My incorporeal body is infected with it, my mind jellied. It’s as if the light wants to burn up every memory, every sheer inch of me.

I open my mouth to shout or to beg, only to realize that the light has taken my voice too.

Then, I’m being sucked away, like a hook in my chest that’s yanking me from the afterlife and spinning me through time itself.

I probably should’ve just picked a godsdamned job.