Cursed by Chemistry Read Online Free PDF

scowl and pitched a stray canister at his head. “Shouldn’t you be gone by now?”
    Samuel’s eyes grew wide. He dodged left. The canister exploded in a cloud of smoke and powder as it hit the wall. Samuel held up his hands in surrender. “Yeah, if some grizzled vagrant hadn’t stopped me in the parking lot.” Samuel shuffled cautious steps through the dust at his feet and held out a large envelope. “He wanted me to give you this.”
    Adrian swiped the envelope. His tone grew distant as he studied the paper. “Grizzled vagrant, now look who’s pulling out the big words.”
    Samuel couldn’t seem to contain the grin that split across his face. “Not my words, his. I asked the bum who he was. That’s what he told me, A. Grizzled vagrant. Like that was his name or something.”
    Adrian mentally shook his head. The name didn’t matter. The chicken scratches that formed the letter ‘A’ and the scent stain of crushed cloves told him exactly who the messenger was.
    A eunuch. The Eunuch, to be precise; the one-and-only, hobbling, messenger boy of the Oracle. He had no real name and only one purpose. To deliver bad news.
    He handed the paper back to Samuel. “You read it.”
    Samuel gave him a you’re-being-a-baby kind of look, before retrieving the envelope and peeling it open. All right, so maybe he was. But the Shauna bomb was enough bad news for one night. Maybe if Samuel opened the letter, it would dole all that rotten luck on him instead.
    Samuel cleared his throat. “It says, your presence is requested by honor of the Oracle.”
    Adrian snarled. “I don’t have time for this.”
    “It says make time.” Samuel squinted at the paper. “P.S. Samuel, the candy jar is unguarded. Quick, run.” Samuel looked up. “What do you think he means by that?”

Chapter Four
    Show your face and get the hell out.
    Adrian gritted his teeth as he approached the glass. Bold letters forming the name “Big O’s Toy Box” were fogged with print smudges and grime from the countless clients who had passed through here.
    His lungs tensed as Adrian suppressed his ability for chemical reconnaissance and grasped the handle. Sometimes it was better not to know where things had been.
    He set his mental stopwatch for the twenty-one and a half minutes it usually took to get back out and yanked the door open with one hand. He covered half the distance to the Oracle’s pulpit before the door sealed shut. The metallic, autumn air and rush of evening traffic died behind him, replaced with pulsing music and muggy warmth.
    The owner leaned forward from the pedestaled checkout counter. His sand-colored hair took on a brash, pink glow from the halo of neon lights overhead. Even for Adrian’s six-two, the counter seemed unusually high.
    Deliberately so.
    The shiny, plastic structure served two purposes: elevate the Oracle’s ego and put his customers in their place, like scurrying rats, eager to pay and escape with their trinkets tucked under their arm.
    Adrian should know. He’d been the rat often enough he’d actually lost his testosterone-driven taste for hardcore silicone and bone-seeping perfume.
    At first glance, it seemed odd—why would an oracle run a sex-toy shop? But in truth, the wares weren’t much different. Both forms of business served to provide immediate gratification that no one really needed.
    Says the man who just became the next customer in line . Irritation itched in Arian’s veins. He was hooked, and he knew it. Adrian didn’t want to know how his life—or lack thereof—turned out. He wanted to beat the system and conquer his family’s curse. Doing so meant slurping up whatever flavor of shit the Oracle had to offer and using it to his advantage.
    The Oracle squinted through horn-rimmed glasses at his monitor. A grin of delight plied into the globes of fat most people called cheeks. He looked every bit the Buddha’s white-trash cousin. Not the kind of guy who sought enlightenment. He tripped over it,