Page 32 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
“We appreciate it.”
As we leave, I graze my hand on the small of Rynn’s back, guiding her past Porter and the other staff without acknowledging him at all. If she liked that guy because of his emotional vulnerability through poetry, I’ll need to lower my walls. It doesn’t sound pleasant, but I’d do it. For her. Rynn is worth the discomfort of letting someone see the deepest parts I try to hide from the world.
“When do you want to go to Hooves for Love?” I ask, hoping her answer is now.
A loud bang comes behind us. Glass shatters on the floor. We run over yo where someone lies immobile in a heap.
“Porter?” Shannon cries out, then crouches down towards the seemingly unconscious man.
“What happened to him?” Rynn rolls Porter onto his back.
His chest rises and falls normally, but his eyes are open and vacant.
“Look,” I say, pointing to the glass pieces surrounding his body. “They’re all purple.”
Rynn’s gasp is like a dagger in my chest. “Help me get him into your car. We need to take him to my place.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rynn
“Can you drive any faster?” I beg Elias while I stare at Porter’s trance-like expression.
“I’m not getting pulled over.” There’s a tick in Elias’s jaw. “This zombie-guy would be a lot to explain to the cops.”
The traffic fills the narrow roads around the buildings downtown. When pedestrians cross the street lazily, I want to shake their shoulders to make sure they’re aware the world is falling apart. Or at least my world. No Fuzer was ever supposed to be cursed. Not only did this Alexandra bitch steal my paint and try to frame me for poisoning people, now she’s broken the rules. My magic’s purpose was always intended to help Fuzers, not make them suffer, or in this case, suck out their souls.
I text Tinsley quickly, not caring about the typos that don’t autocorrect. She responds immediately, updating me that the store has been dead all day.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What is it?” Elias weaves around a truck.
“Everybody must be scared of my store. We’ve barely had any customers,” I say while keeping my attention on Porter’s sluggish posture. He stares out the window like his brain is in a fog. I follow his gaze to the line of auburn trees whizzing by.
“Their paranoia will pass in a couple of days.” Elias glances at me in his rear-view mirror, dark eyes set on mine.
My fingers tap to the beeping rhythm of the crosswalk sign outside the car. How am I supposed to heal Porter without the ingredients for the antidote? Should I collect those before I find Alexandra?
I need to think of something positive, like how good it felt to be close to Elias during the poetry slam. Not only that, he held me when I cried, with patience and acceptance. There hadn’t been one ounce of judgment in his expression after their poems poked a hole through the strong dam I’ve spent years building.
“Uh, Rynn, we have a problem.”
Pink glitter showers onto his windshield, which could only mean one thing. The cops are here. I suck in a steadying breath, ready to confront the authorities. Blocking the street outside my shop and apartment, five unicorns stand in a row, each carrying a glaring officer. In town, I’m a well-known unicorn advocate. I even petitioned for bulletproof vests for them, but the council denied my request. These precious animals deserve a better life than being forced into service.
“Should I reverse?” Elias asks hesitantly, as they divert the car ahead of us onto a detour route.
“No, they’ve already seen me,” I say, stepping out of the car. When the car door slams shut, it cuts off Elias’s voice.
“Rynnlee Pozinne of twenty-two Blake Street?” An officer slides off his purple unicorn, the saddle slipping slightly under his heavy weight. He straightens his glasses that fell askew on his dismount.
“Yes, Hudson. You’ve been to my place before, cut the crap.”
“You’re under arrest for misuse of magic, Order Four, Section B that states?—”
“You have no evidence. I didn’t do anything.”
He sighs, then pushes his glasses up to the ridge of his nose again. “Three minors at Oakmar High succumbed to the Dazed epidemic earlier this afternoon. They each had one of these in their possession.” He pulls out palates of purple eyeshadow. “You sell these, correct, Miss Pozinne?”
