Page 8 of Of Poison & Pumpkins (Of Witches & Men #3)

CHAPTER FIVE

Rynn

I yank Elias into my bathroom and do my best to ignore his mouth-watering cologne in this clamped proximity. “What is that brand?” I sniff his suspenders like a crazy person.

He stares, confusion in his eyes for a moment, then smirks. “I’m not wearing any cologne.”

A zing spurts up my inner thighs. I stifle a groan and point to the window above the bath. “Stick your head out there so I know you won’t eavesdrop on our conversation.”

“That’s absolute scurryfungus!”

“Scurryfungus?” I hold back a laugh threatening to control my body like a damn drug.

“That’s what I said. You’re involved in something shady and possibly dangerous, and you expect me to stick my head out the window like a dog?”

“Yup.”

“Maybe if you agree to my one demand.”

“Name your terms. Quicky, Elias. What do you want?”

“A nickname. I want you to come up with a name for me that no one else calls me, that you enjoy using.”

What kind of request is that? But before he changes his mind, I nod. “Okay, fine. Whatever, just?—”

“ And three dates.”

“What?! No, Elias, have you lost your mind? We don’t know each other.”

“Dates can change that, don’t ya think?”

I swallow. Until I can learn what this troublemaker is planning, I’ll have to keep my eye on him. “One nickname, that’s it. Don’t counter or I’ll?—”

“Deal,” he says, his smile sending a shiver over my entire body.

He crosses his arms and leans against the vanity.

Great, the next time I brush my teeth, I’ll be reliving this moment; how his body is pressed against my sink.

“Go to your devilish rendezvous. You’ll crush it!

I believe in you and your evil, dark ways. ”

I escape before my annoying inner-cheerleader can peep out an affirmation. He better not ruin this deal for me.

“Sorry about him,” I say, rushing back to the new client. “I know you want to make this quick, I just have a form you must sign before I cast the curse.”

Alexandra, I think her name is, glances towards the window again, then says, “Okay, let’s hurry.”

I hold out my phone, which shows a document stating my rules.

“First, you agree that the item will only impact a Nerg, which is defined as a human without magic.”

She initials next to the line in a scribble as a scuffling sound comes from the bathroom.

“Secondly, you understand that the poison will stop working at the next Ceremony.”

Alexandra signs again, then glances at her watch.

“Third, you are aware that you must keep my identity, location, and terms confidential … other than making one required verbal referral. This means you tell only one other Fuzer about my business and tell them to use the code phrase: ‘I’m here to meet the Purple Princess. The Red King sent me.’”

Her finger whips along my screen, completing the signatures that provide me a fake sense of security. Knowing she’s in a rush, I quickly grab paint from a cabinet and gesture at options on a shelf.

“Which object will your victim be drawn to?”

Without hesitation, she points to a wallet. As usual, I unclasp the paint tin of my near-black purple, a shade almost as dark as a bruised night.

“What did he do to deserve this?”

“Do I have to tell you?” Alexandra’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t sign off on that.”

“Nope, you sure don’t. But sometimes there are resources I can give you to help, depending on what happened.”

With years of practice using this same spell, I dip my finger into the paint and chant the incantation under my breath. Once I feel magic releasing through my fingertip, I dip the wallet into the newly poisoned paint.

She twists the wedding ring on her finger, watching me. “How long does this take?”

“Couple more minutes. I need to cast your revenge intention. What’s your inconvenience of choice?

If you want ideas, we could … make all his laundry in the drier stay damp.

Or give him the constant urge to have to pee when in meetings, or my personal favorite, have his zipper break on every pair of pants. ”

“I want to take away their passion,” she says with an edge meant for a sharp sword. “I want suffering or to make them soulless,” she rambles. “That would be perfect.”

I hold out my hand, my heart rate picking up speed. “Woah, hold on. The person who referred you should’ve told you I only cast mild inconveniences. If you want more intense revenge, you’ll have to find help outside of Oakmar.”

She rolls her ruby stained lips in as she weighs her options. I can almost hear her inner battle trying to decide, but really, I’m her only way forward. My past client definitely did not explain my business correctly.

“Listen, maybe if you give me more information about what happened, about why you’re angry, I can help you choose a meaningful punishment from my selections. Like … if he never puts his plate in the sink, an appropriate curse would be that he’s forced to eat food from his hand for a month.”

“You don’t understand,” Alexandra says, shaking her head. “Everything needs to be taken away.”

My heart hammers faster. “I can’t do that. Pick something else.”

“Fine,” she says, turning her back to me, her voice resigned. “I want him to always feel a few degrees too cold.”

I nod, suspicions creeping under my skin.

When my timer beeps, I pull out the stained wallet, dripping magical paint, and whisper the client’s request. It dries within seconds, then I join her side.

Her energy has drastically shifted towards something similar to rotting fish corpses floating in oil.

I don’t usually offer this, but something about this woman’s demeanor is calling out for help. “Feel free to visit to talk about any trauma. I bet you have a sister, or best friend, who will listen, but just in case?—”

“No, I won’t be coming back.” Alexandra snatches the wallet from me and stomps towards the open window. “You did nothing.”

My fists clench at my sides but I plaster on my customer service smile, and say, “Uh, thanks for stopping by, good luck and stay safe.”

Once I hear her heels clickety-clack in the alleyway, I press my palms against the window frame and squeeze my eyes shut, counting to release the tension.

One. I breathe in deeply. Who the hell does Alexandra think she is? Breathe out. It’s not like I have to run this side hustle.

Two. Breathe in. Sure, it results in more money, but I’m also providing a helpful service to Fuzers. It’s not as if she has other options out there to serve revenge.

Three. Last deep breath. My body finally relaxes. She should’ve been grateful. Last breath out.

I open my eyes to gaze out the window, where the star-speckled sky sends a sparkling kiss my way. If I win the prize money next month, maybe I can quit being the Poison Princess and solely focus on Palooza.

“What the fargin’ iceholes was all that about?”

Ugh, Elias’s refusal to use curse words is absolutely ridiculous. I twirl around to the sight of his broad chest, ready to burst through his suspenders.

“You still don’t cuss? You’re twenty-nine fargin’ years old, Elias, you’re allowed to swear.”

“Aww, how sweet, you remembered my birthday was last week.” He steps closer and places one hand on the wall behind my head.

I gulp, hyperaware of the tingling sensation rippling over my skin.

It’s like every inch of my body has turned ultra-alert, but I don’t dare move.

Everything involving Elias has always pushed me outside my comfort zone.

Like the way he dared me to help him spread ice cream cones all over our principal’s front lawn as a senior prank.

If anyone else would’ve asked me to do such an outrageous joke, there’s no chance I would’ve complied.

But Elias carries a heart of gold, the type that brings out the best in people, even if that best includes breaking rules.

He’s the only one who has ever tried to pull me out of my shell, to encourage me to show my true colors instead of holding back.

“Nah, I don’t even remember your last name,” I lie. “Plus, it’s not like you’d know my birthday.”

“July seventh. Born and raised in Meadowcrest, Indiana. Daughter of Steven and Stefania Pozinne. You’re the older sister of Brooke and little sister of Orion, who once threatened me if I ever talked to you.”

My mind whirls with a thousand questions, but all I can manage is to duck around him and march towards the front door to escort him out. Silently, I wait for the door to swing open for us, then gesture towards the staircase.

He crosses my entire studio in four long strides. I don’t let my gaze drag up his suspenders where they meet his shoulders. I definitely don’t wonder if his short beard is soft or prickly.

“Ask me,” Elias commands, protective eyes spearing through my soul. “Ask me why Orion threatened me not to talk to you.”

“Not interested. Thanks for stopping by. Be sure to send your customers over to Palooza. If they show a receipt from your store, we’ll give them five percent off their entire purchase. Goodnight.”

I close my eyes to distract myself from the way he’s looking at me.

Instead, I try to focus on something ordinary, but all that comes to mind is his amazing shop that I hate to love.

Every time I’ve walked into Peculiars , I end up wrinkling my nose as the amazing pumpkin spice scent hits me full force.

They’ve fully committed to their theme, plastering the walls with mass-produced signs reading cutesy things like "Witch Way to the Pumpkin Patch? " and "Life is Gourd!"

“Sunflower …”

My breath catches. Memories whisp me back in time to the one semester in science lab when we were almost-friends. Elias had given me that nickname, and even though I pretended to hate it, the way he said it would brighten even my darkest of days. Maybe I do owe him a nickname in return.

“Have you been possessed by a ghost? Because you haven’t blinked in a record-breaking amount of time,” he says, then repeats, “Ask why Orion threatened me.”

I’m too afraid to know. Elias must have done something outright monstrous for the likes of my Nerg brother to show any protectiveness towards me.

“Are you going to leave?” I ask.

“Yes, but …” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Will you tell me what that meeting was all about? Maybe I can help. That lady didn’t sound thrilled about her purchase, and I don’t want you on the wrong side of her plan.”

Elias would be the last person to turn me into the council, so maybe having someone know my side-hustle wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“We could be partners in crime,” he jokes.

Frustrated he isn’t leaving, I abandon my post at the doorway and move around the studio, preparing for bed.

He parades after me. “Just like old times when you helped me swap out the milk cartons for soy milk. I’ll be your assistant, and you can give me a badge that says ‘property of Rynn,’ and I’ll follow whatever dress code you require, even if it means working in the nude.

I bet you’ve already imagined me naked, right? ”

I roll my eyes, unwilling to give a response, but I’m running out of tasks to do to avoid the conversation.

If Elias hasn’t realized by now that I’m not going to answer, then how the hell am I going to kick him out?

As I’m about to reach for my toothbrush, Elias wedges himself between me and my sink.

“Your brother threatened me because I wanted to ask you out.”

I stare into his dark eyes, utterly flabbergasted. My world turns upside down. He can’t be serious. I rub both hands over my eyes. Maybe I already fell asleep and this is a dream. When I open them again, I catch something moving in my peripheral.

The curtain blows in the breeze, alerting me that my window has been re-opened.

“Shit!” I rush to the living room again.

“Flubbergubbet!” His voice trails immediately behind.

“Damn it”! I raise both hands in the air and quickly glance around.

“Cranky-Beanfarts!”

“You don’t even know why I’m upset!” I yell.

“It doesn’t matter! I will match your intensity for mere support!” he continues loudly. “That’s what an assistant does! Tell me what’s wrong!”

“My can of poisoned paint is gone,” I say, gesturing to the dusty circle on the floor, void of my most valuable possession. “Alexandra must’ve taken it!”