Damaged Gods
Pell walks forward and I turn away, trying my best to ignore his swinging dick, and pretend to clean up a mess I made on the alchemy bench closest to me.
He comes right up next to me and picks the amulet up to study it. He’s so close, his furry hip brushes against my arm. I pull away quickly, then scoot round to the other side of the counter.
Now that I’m safe from his huge dick, I watch as he sniffs the pouch and then opens it up and peers inside. “What did you use?”
“I used lily of the valley and blue lotus. I didn’t have any pistachios, but I can pick them up at the market in town and just plop them in before I meet Russ at the restaurant.”
Pell looks over at me, his eyes hooded. Maybe even narrowed.
“What?” I ask. Sometimes he looks at me like he wants to eat me. This is one of those times.
“You can’t just pick up a bag of salted, processed pistachios at the local supermarket and plop them into your magical amulet, Pie. And an amulet?” He drops the leather pouch onto the bench. “What the hell? You had all day.”
“What’s wrong with an amulet?”
“They’re weak. They’re for non-magical people.”
“Weak how? I did the spell. And I don’t really need pistachios. There were only three herbs in the book that can break a love spell and the pistachio was one of them. But the lily and the lotus should be fine.”
“Where’s the book?”
I point to it on a nearby counter. He picks it up, thumbs through it, then drops it back on the counter with a thud. “It says you have to eat them, not put them in an amulet. Did you even look up the proper way to make this thing?”
“I did!”
He’s shaking his head. “This isn’t going to be enough. An eros is nothing to mess with. They’re powerful. You already know that. He made you swoon.”
“Swoon?” I huff. “I wasn’t swooning.”
“I’m sure you thought it was all natural. But it wasn’t.”
“So what do you suggest? If I don’t show up tonight, he’ll come out there. We’ve already talked about this.”
He sighs and looks around. Then he walks over to the far wall, scans the jars, picks two, and comes back to the alchemy bench. “It’s not going to be enough, but you’ve made a mess of this situation, so this is a last resort. You need to let him down easy.” He points at me. “Don’t piss him off. And then you need to get back here.”
I nod. “OK. I can do that. What’s that stuff for?”
He opens the jars, take one stone out of each, then closes them back up and returns the jars to the same place he got them. “Do you see what I did here?” He’s throwing me a condescending look. “How I put them back where they belong?”
“I get it. I was messy today. But it’s my first day. Jeez. Give me a break.”
He walks back over to me, picks up the first stone and holds it up to the light. It’s black—I’m talking super black—and so shiny, I can see my face in it. “Obsidian,” he says. “It draws negative energy.” He puts it into my amulet pouch and picks up the next one. “This is amethyst. It will protect you from psychic attack. Because that’s what a love spell is.” He drops that into the pouch as well. Then he does something weird. He puts his lips to the opening of the pouch and blows into it.
“What are you doing? I thought you said you can’t do magic?”
“I said I don’t do magic. Because it’s boring. I have no interest in magic. That’s why I have you. But I never said I can’t do magic.” Then he closes his eyes and whispers something in such a low voice, the vibrations kinda make the room shudder a little. It’s that poem above the doors. A hoof, a horn… and the rest. He opens his eyes, pulls the leather drawstring on the pouch, and hands it to me. “Put it on and do not take it off.”
“What did you just do?” I ask.
“It’s the curse of Saint Mark’s Sanctuary. You belong to this place so…” He shrugs, then sighs. “I put a claim on you.”
My eyebrows go up. “A claim?”
“For the sanctuary. Not for me.”
I take the pouch and dangle it in the air. It’s a made from a very soft piece of lavender-colored leather. “Then why did you blow on it?”
“Because that’s the claim.”
I’m smirking. I can’t help it. “Your breath is the sanctuary’s claim?”
“Do you want me to forbid you from going?”
“No. I’m just—”
“Then mind your own business.”
I have to turn to hide my smile. “OK. Thank you.”
“It’s just…” He holds up a finger, like he’s about to make a list. “I have the door slamming.” Another finger pops up. “I have the freezing.” Another finger. “And I have breath.” Then he mumbles something that I can’t understand.