Page 28 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“I didn’t actually give it to you–”

“But I still have it.” He gives a little wave and practically skips out of the door before I can utter another word.

Why do I get the distinct feeling something is about to change?

And why do I feel like that may not be a good thing?

7

Ilook up at the brightly lit restaurant in front of me and my stomach dips.

My skin feels like it’s too tight and tingles with static electricity.

Behind the building, I see a microburst of lightning ripple across the ominous black clouds, punctuating the rapidly darkening skies. There’s a storm coming, a bad one. The wind has dropped slightly, no longer almost gale force like it was earlier in the day, but it’s still enough to tug at my clothes and my body, making me sway slightly.

I should have said no.

I turn my attention back to the restaurant once more. I’m a few minutes late thanks to the weather, and I’m assuming they’ve already arrived. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can see Tristan’s wild mop of curly hair as he stands by the bar with a tall blonde man.

Staring up at the sky again, I feel my magic thrum through my veins. For some reason, I’m finding it hard to shut down my empathic abilities this evening. I close my eyes, fisting my hands at my sides. Right now, all the people around me are huge blinking neon billboards, every thought and desire broadcast in HD. But it’s not just the people who are a problem. The atmosphere itself feels heavy, causing pressure at the back of my skull, and it’s giving me a headache.

The funny thing is, Tristan’s unlike the others. He’s not as easy to read. Perhaps that should make me nervous, as if he’s hiding something, but it’s the opposite. There’s something about him that’s soothing.

Maybe that’s why I said yes. Maybe that’s why I helped him last week and didn’t even charge for my services, or maybe I really am lonely. For once, it would be nice to have a real friend and not just passing acquaintances.

I guess I’ll have to put up with his boyfriend for a few hours. I just hope he isn’t too loud, and I don’t mean the tone of his voice. Most people broadcast every little thought and feeling to the point where it’s like they’re constantly shouting at me. It’s why I prefer the solitude. It’s also why I’ve never joined a coven—not that many of them exist anymore, not real ones anyway.

I blink as something wet hits my face, then look up as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall, splattering against the pavement either side of me. Hunching down, I step forward and grasp the door handle, pushing my way inside right when the heavens fully open.

The sudden onslaught of psychic noise inside leaves me a little dizzy. I thrust my hand into the pocket of my navy peacoat and wrap my fingers around the crystal I keep there. It warms and pulses against my curved palm, and a wave of calm washes over me. It’s not enough to block everything out, but it does take it to a more manageable level.

This is a bad idea.

I’m about to turn around and walk straight back out the door when Tristan catches sight of me, waving so enthusiastically he almost smacks his partner in the face. But seemingly used to Tristan, the man ducks out of the way and smiles, chuckling to himself.

Tristan looks so pleased to see me I can’t bring myself to leave. Forcing an uncomfortable smile, which probably looks more like a pain-filled grimace, I head toward them.

Tristan beams as I approach. “Harrison, hi!”

“Hi,” I reply, feeling awkward.

“This is Danny.” He wraps his hands around his boyfriend’s arm like he can’t not touch him, and it’s kind of sweet. “Danny, this is Harrison.”

“Pleasure.” Danny leans forward and offers his hand.

For a moment, I hesitate. Touch usually amplifies my empathic abilities, so I avoid it if I can, but Tristan looks so happy, and Danny has such a sweet, welcoming expression, that I don’t want to offend either of them, which is weird. I usually don’t care one way or the other.

Reaching out and taking his hand, I give it a quick shake, but instead of being overwhelmed by a rush of confusing and often disturbing images and feelings, I’m hit with…a wave of calmness. I stare at Danny curiously and allow myself to read him. What I get surprises me. He just radiates comfort and ease. Kindness and an innate sense of fairness, yes, but most of all, love. And when he looks at Tristan, he glows with it.

“Um, so we have a bit of a confession to make,” Tristan says, a little sheepishly. “Uh, Danny and I… Well, there was a little miscommunication, and let’s just say we may have made a slight faux pas.”

I can feel my face settling into my resting bitch face, and I try to fight it. My stomach jumps and starts to knot as I wonder what he’s about to spring on me.

“When I invited you to dinner tonight, I didn’t know that Danny had also invited his friend Sam.”

I don’t say anything as I continue to stare at him.

“It’s not a setup or a double date or anything. God, I don’t even know what your orientation is. I would never try to set someone up on a blind date. I just don’t want you to think…I mean…”