Page 24 of Charmed, I'm Sure

He smiles up at me like I stroked his fur andtold him he was a good boy. Does he literally have to embody the dog personality so much?

“Shall we get started now…or did you need to grab something from your shop first?”

I roll my eyes and start towards Curios & Curses. My boots click against the cobblestone road, putting more and more distance between me and whatever weird fate my sister is attempting to manifest.

Thinking I’ve managed to evade it, a smile starts to spread across my face that’s cut short when I hear…

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Nope. I’m not participating any longer. My day has been derailed long enough. Picking up the pace, I glide around the corner hoping he doesn’t see where I went.

No…such…luck.

My hand clasps around the wrought iron handle of my shop door right as his smell invades my nostrils again.Ugh.

Chapter Nine

Sit. Stay. Stop Touching That.

Bellamy

“So what did your sister mean when she said ‘Fate said so’? Is that some kind of witch thing or is it like our wolf thing?”

I slide the skeleton key into the lock, twisting it with a satisfying clack as the ancient tumblers fall into place.

“I get it,” I say. “Why do I have…”

Miles leans over my shoulder, staring at what I’m doing like he’s about to discover the secrets of the universe. “Why do you have…”

I smirk as I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s kind of cute, I guess. If you’re into the whole golden boy thing.

“An uninvited guest hovering over my shoulder.” I push the door open and attempt to shut it in his face, but of course his reflexes are faster than mine. Stupid wolf genes.

He’s already in before I can stop him, eyes darting from side to side. His eyes widen when he sees shelves full of spell jars to the wall of enchanted trinkets. Like the child he is, he reaches out to grab something on the table full of cursed objects. The kind that only a skilled witch should touch, given how potent they are.

His fingers hover right over a coffin-shaped box; at least he’s going for one of the less cursed items.

“Don’t.”

He freezes. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t touch that unless you have a death wish or know what you are doing,” I say without looking up from grinding mandrake root.

He glances from me to the box again. “What is it?”

“Silver pins.”

“Like for sewing?”

I finally look up at him, already over him being here. “For stabbing. Into voodoo dolls. During curses.”

He tilts his head, as if he is contemplating how serious I’m being. “And what happens if I just…” His eyes round with curiosity as he hovers his finger a breath away from them.

“Do you want your tail to fall off?”

He yelps. Literally yelps. His hand flies to his chest as his mouth falls open. “You’re…joking. Right?”

I give him a slow smile as I shrug my shoulders. “Touch it and find out.”