The Girl Who Cries Colors

I nod. “Yep. I’ll just train them here in the fae realm.”

“No offense, again, but do you actually know how to train these pink shiteheads?”

“I can totally handle it.”

He gives me another look, but then shrugs. “What about your mates? They gonna shite themselves?”

Probably. “Nah. They’ll understand.”

Sev doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push the matter. “Want me to bring ‘em now?”

“Yeah, let’s do this…” I pause, making a face. “Right after I pee.”

See? The peeing thing. It’s a problem.

Chapter 6

When I’m done in the bathroom, I walk back to the front room, only to stumble to a halt at the sight of a dozen cupids now stuffed inside. The room suddenly feels tiny.

Even though Sev warned me that these cupids failed training once before, it didn’t really sink in until just now. Because now that they’re in front of me, I can kind of see why.

They’re a motley crew of cupids. Leather jackets, goth makeup, hipsters, nerds, a couple weird looking fae, and one chick is wearing a ballgown like she was an actual princess. Another one has a cell phone stuck to her hand like she died mid-text. She keeps trying to scroll, even though it doesn’t work anymore. There’s even a damn troll cupid. A troll. He can barely fit inside without his head hitting my ceiling.

To put it simply, even with their new pink hair and red wings, they don’t look like the cupid-type. I’m surprised as hell that they picked this as their afterlife job, to be honest.

I walk further into the room to stand beside Sev. “These are the trainees?”

He’s schmoozing up some cupid beside him, taking advantage of their physical state by running a finger up her arm. She either has a fetish, or she was at a costume party when she died because her face is painted to look like a skull, and she’s wearing some tight leather get-up with assless chaps. What a time to die.

“Sev!” I snap, pinching him on the nipple when he continues to ignore me.

He rubs at his pec and gives me a glare. “Did you need something?”

“Yes! Help me,” I whisper-yell.

There are entirely too many cupids staring at me right now, and I feel totally on the spot. They’re intimidating. It’s like I’m the teacher forced to run detention for all the slackers. I’m sensing an impending mutiny. Why did I think that I could do this?

“Just tell ‘em how to blow Lust shite and shoot some arrows. They’re fooking hopeless, though, so I wouldn’t get too excited.”

“Thanks for the positivity,” I say dryly.

“You’re the boss, so boss the shite out of these jobbies, or poof the fookers.”

Turning, I march to the front of the room to address them. Well, I don’t march, to be honest. I waddle.

“Okay cupids,” I say, addressing them. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Emelle.” I flash them the inside of my wrist to show them my cupid number and boss mark. “Since you failed your last training, I’ll be taking over.”

They look at me, utterly bored. I’m pretty sure a couple in the back are making out. And…where did that one get a pipe to smoke?

“Okay guys,

pay attention,” I say, clapping my hands. They don’t pay attention.

“Hey, when’s our break?” the troll cupid asks.

“Yeah, and when do we get to take vacation time?” another one pipes up.

That’s it. I narrow my eyes, fluff up my wings, and let a bit of my angel power through so that I start to shine like a night-light. It’s the only angel power I know how to use, but it looks impressive. “Hey!”