Free Cursed by Chemistry by Kacey Mark Page A

couldn’t be. The Adrian she knew probably drove a Volvo, a sedan of some sort. Not. That.
    The silhouette of broad shoulders and close-cropped hair made her stomach leap for safety.
    She cleared her throat to force the shakiness away. “It…It’s an aphrodisiac, you know.” Shauna had to keep him talking, just long enough to know for sure.
    A sharp screech of brakes seemed to come right at her feet, and her blanket of fearlessness billowed around her. The crazed jitter-squirrel that hid beneath threatened to seize the opportunity and dive under the velvet rope, shove through the door, and lose him in the crowd.
    The bouncer stood facing the nearby wall, his large hands still cradling her card. He nursed it back and forth, under a wall-mounted black light. A sloth could out-pace the guy. The attempted assault by vehicle didn’t seem to faze the bouncer, as if he’d seen it a million times. Shauna craned her neck to catch a glimpse of a faint inscription that glowed to life along the bottom edge of the paper, and inched closer to the door. Speed-reading. Not one of his strong points.
    Shauna stole another glance behind.
    Adrian’s left shoulder dipped, as he shoved open the car door.
    “ Shit ,” Shauna peeped. The phone slipped from her hand as she made a panicked effort to end the call. She juggled the glossy plastic on its way to the ground. She managed to swipe it mere inches from crashing to the floor.
    Shauna up-righted from her crouched stance inch-for-inch as Adrian unfolded himself from the car and straightened, only Adrian had several inches to spare—each one power and determination. His intense gaze of forewarning pierced through the handful of irritated patrons and hit her dead center.
    He started forward.
    Milliseconds ticking, Shauna spun back to the bouncer.
    “Your phone?” It wasn’t a question.
    “Billy,” Adrian called. A sharp jingle of metal sounded as Adrian tossed his keys to the bouncer.
    Billy reached, and Shauna ducked under his arm. She finished-lined the velvet rope and the metal posts on either side crashed to the floor.
    “Hey!” the frizzy one cried.
    The bouncer rushed to quiet the toppling metal as Shauna stumbled over the clutter and body-slammed through the swinging door.
    She blinked to take in her new surroundings and started moving.
    No time to hesitate, but which way?
    There’s no clear direction, no exit.
    The store corralled her in each direction with countless card racks, shelves, and aged display cases. A landmine for broken hips in the daylight, for sure.
    Her only greeter perched four feet above, in a haze of swirling dust and smoke. With wild, round eyes, the plastic owl looked about as startled as Shauna. But something much bigger hunted her.
    Her focus darted from one wall to another as she picked her way deeper into the store. The stale warmth closed in as she wound from one aisle to the next. Each row stood about four and a half feet high. It wouldn’t take long for him to find her. Shauna’s ears tensed on the commotion behind, waiting for the firm plod of footsteps to cross the threshold and begin their pursuit.
    Nothing looked odd, out of place, or even a slight sketchy. Where the hell was her portal to this so-called sexual underworld?
    Her gaze caught on a mosaic of bird feeders, swings, and perches displayed on the far wall. She frowned. One seemed brighter than the others. Not in presentation or size, but something—yes, a nightingale. The same spread-winged profile from outside and her card had been stamped on the wall in glowing paint.
    Shauna slipped her hand behind the dangling collection of wooden blocks and twine, and traced its outline looking for any hint of imperfection. There must be a secret button or switch. She pushed on the glowing stamp.
    Smooth and cold as painted concrete.
    The door she had come through flew open, accompanied by a chilled gust of autumn air. The entrance erupted. Splintering glass and clanging metal skittered across