Signs of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 1)
Signs of Cupidity: Chapter 2

Okay, it’s not actually called Cupidville. It’s actually a higher part of existence in the Veil, where all the in-between entities go for direction or assignment or whatever the hell else. I’ve only been to the part that inhabits other cupids, and I’m only allowed to go when I’m summoned. Like right now. Summoning is actually just a nicer way of saying pulled away from your duties because your superiors are pissed off at you. Yeah. I’ve been here before. Shocker, right? It’s kind of like getting called to the Principal’s office. Except scarier.

I’m yanked away from the human realm and before I can mutter a string of curses from the stomach-roiling sensation of flying through space and time, my body is dumped into a seat in a brightly lit room full of other cupids. It’s like a giant doctor’s office, except instead of getting a checkup, we’re all getting promotions, demotions, assignments, or…terminated. And termination for us means ceasing to exist. Gone. The End. Game Over. Snap of the fingers, just like that.

That part isn’t on the brochure. No, really. There were brochures when I first signed up, complete with happy pink font that made being a cupid sound like the best job in existence. The devil is in the fine print. I really should’ve read it all before choosing this as my after-life occupation, instead of getting caught up in the romance and a corny slogan: “Become a Cupid: Spread love, sex, and desire!”

What? I was zero years old in the afterlife at the time. And it’s not like I was the only one who fell for it, considering the other pink-haired, red-winged people around me. Of course, we’re all still non-corporeal, even here, so no change there. The only difference is that we can actually hear and talk to each other. And it’s the only time I ever get to see other cupids. Surprise, surprise, there aren’t that many of us. Considering how many realms we have to serve, it’s very, very, very rare to see another cupid when you’re working. So, yeah, as scary as it is to be sucked into Cupidville, it’s also kind of awesome because I can see and talk to other cupids. It’s like a high school reunion where you kind of recognize everyone but you have no idea what the hell to talk about.

Inside the room, there’s a huge reception area with some of the cupid superiors sitting behind glass, bustling around and looking extra busy. Every once in a while, a huge number displays on the wall with magic, lighting up to announce the next cupid in line to go forward. Right now, XLLL is on the screen. It won’t go in numerical order. Just by some strange unknown system.

To my immediate right is a twenty-something male cupid. I think I’m around the same age. Without being able to see my reflection, I’m guessing I look somewhere between twenty and thirty. The only reason I think this is because the last time I was yanked here, this other cupid called me “hot and ripe as hell.” I’m pretty sure he was terminated later, but the compliment was nice. I’m also pretty sure that twenty to thirty is a probable age range for “ripe.” Unless I’m a cougar. And let’s be honest, who doesn’t want to be a cougar?

Anyway, the cupid guy sitting next to me is looking over at the wall where a huge poster hangs with the stupid cupid slogan. I hear him muttering under his breath. “Fooking pile of steaming shite, that is.”

I like him immediately. I lean over to get more into his personal space. “I know, right! They trick you into believing it’s all fun and arrows and hearts, but in the real world, watching love and sex really starts to suck.”

He looks over at me and nods. “Tell me about it. Had me for a fooking ride, they did,” he says in the most entertaining accent I’ve ever heard. “The superior sold me like a bag of ice to a dry lake. Drank that shite right up.”

“How’d they get you?” I ask. It’s so nice being able to talk to someone. It’s almost worth getting in trouble. It’s been years and years since the last time I was yanked. I can’t even remember how long ago it was. “For me, I was convinced it would be the most romantic job in all the realms. I was practically salivating for love when I signed up,” I admit. “Couldn’t wait to get started.”

He raises a black brow. For some reason, our eyebrows aren’t pink like our hair. I have no idea why. I also have no idea what color my eyebrows are, or my eyes. Cupid problems.

“Told me I’d be spreadin’ all the sex I wanted, didn’t they? Sold it like a fooking porno. Didn’t realize not bein’ able to join in would be its own sort of torture. I’m a virile guy, get it? I ain’t cut out for this celibate shite. And the ghosts are seriously a drag.  Fooking morose sons o’ bitches.”

I nod seriously. “I know, man. Believe me, I know.”

He shakes his head, swearing under his breath about what a pain it is to be a cupid. But boy, this guy is pretty. Luscious lips, thick, curly lashes, and cheekbones to die for. His pink hair sets his tan off rather nicely, too. I wish I had a tan. My skin is super pale. Like ghost pale.

We both look up as the next number flashes up on the wall. Another cupid, a little old lady sees it and sighs. She floats toward the reception area looking perfectly guilty. I wonder what trouble she was making to get yanked. She looks too sweet to be in trouble, like she should be somewhere baking cookies and knitting ugly socks that no one will wear.

“Once, I went on a Love-Strike in my city,” I say to my new cupid friend. “I didn’t give out any Love for a month straight. I was yanked here for it. As punishment, they tripled my Love quota for an entire decade,” I say, shaking my head at the memory. “A decade! By the time I was done, I was so sick of shooting arrows that I would’ve run myself straight through with one of them if I could.” I tried. Didn’t work. I’ve tried all my powers on myself. I’m sure every cupid here has. Our powers don’t work on ourselves.

He shudders at my story, because he knows how giving out a surplus of Love can get complicated quick. “They can shove their fooking Love quotas right up their hairy arses,” he says, making me laugh loudly. I get the stink eye from one of the superiors. Yeah, apparently they like the cupids to be quiet and demure.

“I got sent to the troll realm as punishment once.”

I swivel to look at him again and gasp. “No!”

He nods with a grimace on his pretty face. “Yup. I wasn’t givin’ anyone the Lust, you get it? I was on a strike of my own if you catch my drift. If I couldn’t get any, no one else would, neither. When the superiors caught on, they sent me to the troll realm for an entire year. Those gobshites are the ugliest mother fookers I’ve ever eyed. I had to Lust ‘em, and believe me, their idea of fooking ain’t pretty. Plus, they lay eggs after. And I don’t mean months later, I mean right after. Covered in sex juices and steaming.”

It’s my turn to shudder. It makes my decade long Love-surplus seem tame in comparison. “These cupid superiors are sadists.”

“What did you do to land you here this time?”

“Nothing!” I say defensively. “Well, barely anything,” I amend. “I almost did something, maybe. I didn’t even get a chance to really start, though. And maybe I haven’t been giving Love out, either. But geez, they’re so touchy these days.”

“Yep. New management, I heard.”

“Shit.”

He nods. “You’re tellin’ me.”

Before I can ask him what he did, I see my roman numeral, ML, pop up on the screen. “Shit,” I say again. “That’s me.”

“Good luck cupid thousand-fifty,” he says with a nod.

I look down at his wrist where the letters DCCXX are. “You too, seven-hundred twenty.” I want to give him a fist bang, but since we don’t have real bodies, it would turn awkward quick. So instead, I just raise a fist in bitter cupid solidarity. “Keep it real.”

“Aye. You fooking know it.”

I float my way towards reception and stop in front of the glass where a superior cupid with a pinched face glowers at me. Her pink hair is in an up-do that looks like a soft serve ice cream cone. “Cupid one thousand fifty?”

I nod and show her my arm. “Yep, that’s me.” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She looks at some papers and trails her finger down a column of writing. “Cupid one thousand fifty, report to room forty-three. Take door number one, go down the hall to the left. Follow the numbers. Thank you for your Loving service. Have a Cupidly good day.”

She says everything with zero expression and in complete monotone, so naturally, a giggle bursts out of me unbidden. She glares daggers at me. “Sorry,” I mock whisper, mimicking a motion to zip my mouth closed.

I quickly turn and find the door with the number one on it and go inside, heading down the hallway. Everything is white, and just like she said, there’s door after door, all of them numbered. The doors are shaped like hearts, just in case we forgot we were cupids or something. The propaganda around here just doesn’t end. Finally, I reach door number forty-three. I knock on it and hear someone call for me to enter. At least I think he does. He could’ve just cursed me out or read out an ingredient from the recipe for the perfect chocolate chip cookies. I wouldn’t know either way. But now I really wish I had a tangible tongue so I could eat a chocolate chip cookie. Those things look delicious.

Inside is a small office, where a superior cupid sits behind a desk. He’s middle-aged, and his wings are tucked in tightly against his back as he watches me enter. There are piles of papers all over the desk, and an hourglass trickling sand down its center. The pieces of sand are shaped like hearts, because of course they are. The propaganda, remember? It’s Cupidville.

“Please, sit.”

I do, but it’s not really sitting, since my body is still ghost-like. I just manage to make it look like I’m hovering over the chair. He makes it look much easier, but then, since he’s a superior, his body is more corporeal than mine, letting him actually touch the papers on his desk. I’m super jealous. I wonder if he can touch a chocolate chip cookie? Wait, can he eat a chocolate chip cookie?

“Cupid one thousand fifty,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. He picks up a file folder with my number on it and starts flipping through it. “Human realm. In service for fifty-six years.”

“That’s me,” I say brightly, plastering a huge smile on my face. Because he can’t be too mad at me if I’m super-friendly, right?

He looks up at me and cocks a brow. Okay, so maybe I crossed over from super-friendly, to semi-crazy with my too-wide smile. I quickly take it down a notch.

“You’ve been disciplined five times in the past. This is your sixth visit,” he says, looking up at me from the file.

“Which is pretty good right? That’s, like, only once a decade on average,” I point out, still smiling.

“Is that amusing to you?”

I wipe the smile from my face. “No, nope. Definitely not, sir.”

“Hmm. Well, despite your transgressions, you’ve been somewhat of a success in your duties,” he says, surprising me. “Nothing remarkable, but you’re a decent cupid.”

I’m decent? I wonder who the real screw-ups are if he thinks I’m decent.

“Still, considering the number of purposeful transgressions you’ve been guilty of, we’ve decided to move you into another realm.”

My eyes widen and I gasp. “Don’t send me to the trolls!” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “I don’t want to see their steaming sex eggs!”

He pauses his perusal of my file. “Who said anything about trolls?” he asks with exasperation.

I clear my throat and force myself to sit back down. When did I jump out of the seat? I am terrible at playing it cool. “Sorry. No one. I mean, I heard about them. The trolls, that is. Sometimes they’re used as punishment, right? But you didn’t say trolls. I hope you don’t say trolls in the future. Because I don’t want to go to the troll realm. You weren’t going to say that, were you? I’d even take another Love-Surplus over the troll realm. Oh, gods, I’m giving you ideas, aren’t I? I’m just going to shut up now.”

I’m finally able to shut my yapping mouth. It’s embarrassing how long it took.

The superior clears his throat. “Are you done?”

I nod like a mad woman, not trusting myself to open my mouth again in fear of more word vomit.

He eyes me for a moment longer, as if to make sure I really am going to keep my trap shut. After a moment, he puts my papers back inside my file and puts it down on the desk, folding his hands over it all official-like. I’m so nervous that I’m frozen in place.

Finally, he says, “You’re being sent to the fae realm.”

I blink at him several times. I open my mouth and then close it again. I blink some more. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The. Fae. Realm,” he says slowly, like I’m an idiot. “You’ll no longer be serving humans.”

“The fae…but…I mean, isn’t that a promotion? Like, lots of cupids ask to be transferred to the fae realm, right?” I ask, and my nervousness takes control of my mouth again. “I don’t know why. Humans are just fine. Not that I’m saying I don’t want to go to the fae realm. The fae realm is awesome. Really great. I’ve heard super things about the fae realm. Much better than the troll realm. I’d love to go to the fae realm. I just thought…I was getting disciplined? Or maybe terminated? Not that I want that! I don’t want to go poof. Or at least, I heard there’s a poof. Like we just disappear in a pink cloud and we cease to exist. Not that I’m asking for a termination demonstration. I’m not. You won’t poof me, right? No, because you’re sending me to the fae realm. Wow. The fae. Am I not in trouble?”

Gods. It’s like I just can’t help myself.

He looks like he’s completely done with me. If there were a magic button on his desk that said, “Get Her Away From Me,” he’d press it. We sit in awkward silence, staring at each other for several minutes until he composes himself enough to deign to speak to me again.

“Cupid one thousand fifty. You are hereby being transferred to the fae realm. Don’t screw up, or you may be in line for termination for your next disciplinary meeting. And yes, you’d go ‘poof,” he says, leaning forward slightly, making me lean back.

If I had a heart, it would’ve just tripped and fallen down in my chest. “Oh, you got it, sir. No trouble from me. You can bet your wings on it. I’ll be too busy spreading Love and Lust around to be getting into any trouble. I’ll get them sexing and loving in no time. I’m all over it, sir. You can count on me. No need for poofing.”

He just shakes his head at me and sighs. Then he does press a button, but this one says “Fae” and just like that, I’m being yanked out of the cupid office and thrown into the fae realm.

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