She lifted it and clicked the pump several times.
Rose perfume smashed over my face. “What the heck?” I turned away and sneezed several times, wiping rapidly at my eyes. They burned along with my nostrils. “Are you crazy?”
“I told you to get out.” She reached for what looked like a quill pen and ink set to throw at me.
I yelped and jumped back, but ink splashed all over my wool coat. “Hey, what in the world?”
Laughing, she grabbed an old paint can off the floor.
“Whoa, wait,” I said, holding up my hands.
Chuckling madly, she pulled back and then rapidly lifted the can, splashing pink paint all over me. I jumped out of the way but crashed into an armoire. Old board games, including Twister, tumbled down. Then, a jar smashed on the floor, breaking and scattering marbles in every direction.
I glared down at my now ruined coat. “Are you crazy?”
“You’re paying for anything you broke,” she shrieked, snatching a fragile glass snow globe and throwing it at me.
I ducked in time for it to hit the armoire and spray glittery water in every direction, including all over me.
“You came to the wrong place, bitch.” She snared a vintage spice rack and threw it at me.
I ducked again, but several of the bottles made contact, and spices covered me. I sneezed wildly. “That’s it.” I clasped the nearest weapon, a Victorian lace parasol, and held it out toward her. “I’m going to have you arrested for assault and battery.”
My mind quickly calculated the facts. Icouldhave her arrested, and then she’d have to talk to Pierce. I fumbled in my pocket for my phone.
“The hell you are.” She latched onto another lace parasol, this one pink, and swung it at me.
I ducked, yelping, and then lifted my white parasol toward hers. We dueled like a couple of sword fighters in a wild fencing match. Some of the spices dropped into my left eye, and it burned. I howled, smashing my watering eye with one hand and continuing to fight her with the parasol. “This is ridiculous,” I snapped.
“You just threatened me,” she yelled, dropping the parasol and leaping toward me, tackling me to the floor.
I landed hard, and my head thunked against the planks. Pain clicked down my back, hitting every vertebra on the way. Furious, I reached up and punched her in the jaw, throwing her off me. I rolled over.
“That’s enough,” a male voice yelled.
Slowly, and still on our hands and knees, we both turned and looked up. Holy crap. A tall, dark figure stood in front of us dressed as Cupid—the hot, fit guy with the curly golden hair and mask. He nocked an arrow and pointed it at us. He was even taller than I remembered, and his tight, black shirt showed hard-cut muscle.
I slowly stood, holding up my hands as Lisa did the same. I looked beyond him to see the other two Cupids staring at us, once again in extra-large white shirts, the biggest guy shaking slightly.
“I’ve got these two,” the lead man said. “Get anything of value.”
The two short Cupids scrambled in different directions, throwing items into large pink felt bags.
Lisa wiped pink paint off her shirt. “I’ve heard of you. What the hell do you want?”
“Just money, lady,” Cupid said.
“How about you leave the money here?” she snorted, coming up on my side.
Man, nothing really scared this chick. “Nobody needs to get shot this time,” I said.
The Cupid stared at me. I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, and his voice still sounded tinny, but I tried to memorize every inch of him.
“You were at the jewelry store,” he said.
“Yeah, I was.”
Lisa looked at me. “That’s suspicious.” She fumbled on a shelf next to her and grabbed what appeared to be a funky seventies-era lava lamp.
