Hex on the Beach (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 1) (10 page)

“Come out from there, Harpin,” Poppy said. “I want to introduce you to the new Mixologist.”

A man stepped from behind a thick drape that hung over a door at the back of the store. He wore a long black robe that swished when he walked. His hair—just as long and just as black—hung over his shoulders. His voice was smooth as silk. “So you’re
the one
.”

“Hi.” I offered a quick smile. He gave me the creeps—the sheen of his hair, the translucence of his skin, the way his green eyes watched me with a cat-like intensity. “I’m Lily.”

“I know exactly who you are.” Harpin emerged from behind the counter as if he were gliding, due to the lightness of his footsteps and the soft rustle of his robes. “As I said, I’ve been waiting a long time.”

“What, twenty-four hours?” Poppy rolled her eyes. “She just got here.”

Harpin’s eyes flashed in annoyance. “I’ve known about her for some time now.”

“Right,” Poppy said, leaning on the desk. “Okay, then.”

Harpin stalked forward and came within an inch of my face. He made eye contact for far too long, studying me as if he could see into my soul. A hint of garlic came from his person—his breath or his robes, I couldn’t tell. But it made my eyes water.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Just got something in my eye.” I didn’t want to say it was a whiff of garlic.

Harpin moved his eyes down my face, studying my nose, my ears, my chin in turn. When he looked at my lips, I couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Just studying what a
true
Mixologist is made of,” he said, stepping behind the counter.

I detected bitterness in his voice. He appeared to hate me right off the bat. I had no idea why, especially as I wasn’t the one who smelled like garlic.

“How is the training going?” He raised one shiny eyebrow so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“It’s fine.” I glanced at my cousins, hoping they’d help me out. “Difficult. Interesting. It’s hard to say if I’ll be any good at it, since I’ve only been here one day.” I gave a light laugh, but the humor died immediately in the damp, musty air.

“But you’ve already begun handing out antidotes, I hear.” Harpin rested long, thin fingers on the counter. “How very confident of you.”

“I haven’t handed out anything.”

“Lies,” he hissed. “Leonard Fluffleknocker?”

I barely managed to hold my tongue. Better for him to think I was confident than to have him spreading rumors about me handing out fake potions. “How did you find out so quickly? Leonard only stopped by thirty minutes ago, or so.”

“I have
gifts
.”

“You can see the future?” I asked.

“My
gifts
are impossible to explain.”

“No, your
gifts
are a whole load of bull-dung.” Zin
tsked.
“Don’t go telling the new girl lies, Harpin. She’s green to the whole magic thing, doesn’t know up from down yet.”

Harpin looked annoyed. “It’s not lies. I
can
see the future.”

Poppy stepped forward. “Harpin, listen here. You got gifts, that’s for sure. Your ginger tea makes me glow like I ain’t never glowed before. I attract men like flies to honey after one cup of that stuff. Your Gass-Pass helps digestion more than anything I’ve ever seen. But you don’t have any seeing-the-future powers.”

“But I knew about Leonard. How do you explain
that
?” Harpin leaned forward, a challenge in his eye.

“Oh, lordy. It’s called living in a small town.” Poppy met him nose to nose. “When you live in a place the size of a postage stamp, word gets around pretty quick. I’ll bet he stopped in here on his way home, bragging about how he was cured of the plague, am I right?”

Harpin shook his head, but the red hue in his ears said differently.

“So stop telling the new girl your nonsense stories, and instead give me some Glow teabags. I might as well take Gass-Pass while I’m at it. I plan on overindulging on dinner. It’s sloppy joes tonight.” Poppy reached into her pockets. “I don’t have money right now. Put it on my tab.”

Harpin disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived, the sound of muttering coming from behind the tea barrels.

Zin stepped close enough that our shoulders touched. “Don’t take it personally. He’s been hankering for your job since he came out of the womb.”

“The Mixology job? Why didn’t he get it?”

“It isn’t in his blood,” Poppy said.

“Yes, but it wasn’t in Neil’s blood either, and he served as a replacement after the last Mixologist. So why did Neil get the job, but not Harpin?”

“Because Harpin sucks at being magical.” Zin’s nose twitched. “His teas are nothing but that—tea. The whole ‘glow’ thing is all in Poppy’s head.”

“Is not,” Poppy said. “I
do
glow. Like a lava lamp.”

“Because he puts in powdered glow worm. But that’s not magic. Or Mixology. That’s just… I don’t know… cooking.” Zin shrugged. “The same thing would happen if you sprinkled glow worm into your pasta sauce.”

“I take it you don’t shop here?” I grinned at Zin.

She shook her head. “But it’s good Poppy believes in Harpin’s crap. One of us has to keep him on our good side, and I’d rather she spend the money trying to glow.”

“Why do you care if he’s on your good side?” I wouldn’t much mind if I never stepped foot in here again.

Zin shrugged. “Small town life. It’s just politics. Plus, I wouldn’t want him to poison Poppy with his teas, so I try not to cause too many waves.”

“He’d do that?” I asked, my voice hushed.

Zin shrugged, but before she could answer, Harpin emerged from the back room. “There’s the tea.”

“Oh, thanks,” Poppy said, scooping up her haul. She nodded in my direction. “Now, Harpin, we’d love to stay and chat, but we’ve got to get her back to her studies.”

“I thought it was in her blood.” Harpin made a note on a piece of parchment. He spread it across his desk, all sorts of numbers and figures making it look like a ledger. “I didn’t know she needed to
work
at it… I assumed it came naturally.”

“Harpin, stop being a troll,” Zin snapped. “You know how difficult her job is. Even if the talent does run in her veins, it doesn’t mean we can just snap our fingers and fill her head with the names and properties of each plant.”

“Then what does she have that I don’t?” Harpin’s lips tipped into a smile. “You’ll understand I’m just curious as to why my application has been rejected so many times. I’d like to learn… for next time.”

“With any luck, there won’t be a next time in
your
lifetime.” Poppy took a sniff of her teas, nodding with satisfaction. “Lily’s here to stay. Right, Lily? And as long as she’s not going anywhere, you’re out of luck, Harpin.”

“Yes, exactly.” I tried to look confident. “I’m staying.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” Harpin pressed the tips of his fingers together. “Life often has a funny way of interrupting one’s plans.”

“Stop it. Lily’s a West Isle Witch now, which means if you want to annoy her, you’re going to bother all of us. Do you want me to tell Mimsey on you?” Poppy grasped my wrist and pulled me toward the door. “You mess with her, you mess with the rest of us.”

“Pay your tab, Poppy!” Harpin called as she pushed open the door. “You’re overdue.”

“Am not!” Poppy singsonged back. To me, she whispered, “I’m
so
overdue, but I’ll get it to him on my next paycheck. Jeesh, he’s so uptight about bills and timeliness. It’s
annoying.
”

“Your receipts are falling off my desk!” Harpin shouted. “I’m using them as a placemat
and
a rug.”

I thought back to the massive roll of parchment on his desk, wondering if it was a record of all of Poppy’s recent purchases. If so, she liked her tea. That was a
lot
of leaves.

“You’re welcome,” Poppy said. “Without me, you’d never have a rug. Now you’ve got a rug
and
a placemat.”

The sunlight came as a welcome relief. The inside of the damp tea shop had made breathing difficult. I took a deep inhalation of fresh, sea-salty air and exhaled slowly.

“West Isle Witches?” I asked. “Is that some sort of a club?”

Zin had reverted to her sullen self, giving us a scowl before she dropped behind us. I’d be scowling too if I had on the amount of black clothing that she did. My airy sundress allowed for a nice breeze on my legs, but her leather pants had to be sticking to the backs of her knees. The sun burned my shoulders, and the balmy, humid air didn’t do much to keep us cool.

Poppy held her teabags with delight, taking a whiff of the fresh leaves now and again as we trekked back across the sandy path toward the bungalow. “Not a club. Just family.”

“Whose family, specifically?”

“Ours!” Poppy stepped onto the bridge. “Look, see here? There’re two bridges that cross the canal. The Upper and the Lower Bridges, but only the Lower is in use.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the Upper Bridge leads nearly straight into The Forest. The only people who use it are the Rangers. They have barracks up there, but a normal person would go halfway around The Isle just to use the lower bridge—too dangerous otherwise.”

“A normal person?” I blinked.

“You know,
magic
normal.” Poppy shrugged. “We have normal witches and weirdo witches too. Just like humans have normal folks and weirdo folks.”

“Since you all live on the west side, that’s where the name comes from?” I asked.

“It’s how we refer to ourselves,” Poppy said. “Me, Zin, my mom, Auntie Trinket, the rest of Zin’s siblings… and now you.” She beamed. “Since we’re all females, we have different last names, so we just dubbed ourselves the West Isle Witches. It’s easier.”

“But don’t other witches live on the west side too?”

Zin shook her head. “We’re the only witches brave enough. Everyone else lives along the canal. There’s a salon on the west side, but they don’t live there.”

“You can see it there, to the left of the beach.” Poppy pointed. “Otherwise, it’s just us. Well, us and the jail.”

“You have a jail here?” I hadn’t expected a jail. I supposed I’d figured the magical community had a different way of dealing with rule-breakers. “Is the other side of The Isle safer?”

“Yep. A lot.” Poppy grinned. “The bridges have barriers—spells and protective hexes—to keep away the creatures who live in The Forest.”

“That makes me feel
real
safe,” I said dryly. “Since I can see The Forest from my front porch.”

“But you’ve got the Rangers just a few minutes away. That’s a bonus,” Poppy said.

“But I don’t know how to
call
them if I need help. It’s not like you guys gave me a cell phone.”

“Oh, I wasn’t even talking about the
help
part.” Poppy winked. “I just meant you have a better chance of catching a view of them in the wild. The Rangers hate going to the East Isle. Too commercial. In fact, some of the witches looking to catch a husband come sunbathe on your beach just to try to catch their attention.”

“Great,” I muttered. “But I thought they couldn’t get married?”

“They can’t,” Poppy said. “But a girl can try. Everyone wants to be the witch who can take a Ranger off the market. But as far as I know, it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Have you tried?” I shot a mischievous glance in my cousin’s direction.

“Of course not!” Poppy looked appalled. “They’re like brothers to me. I don’t even find them cute. I just like talking shop with other girls, so I pretend to find them attractive.”

“How quaint,” I said with a smile.

Poppy gave my shoulder a good-natured punch. I had to admit I liked it. I liked the joking. I liked everything that went along with having a family, even if it meant I really
was
a witch.

As we hoofed it back to the bungalow, I found myself hoping more and more that I would be able to do the Mixologist’s job and do it well. Because I could handle losing another job, but it’d be much harder to lose the family I’d already begun to love.

“Is that Kenny?” I asked, nodding toward a flash of movement down by the docks.

“Yeah. I forgot about him.” Poppy took another loud sniff of the tea leaves. “He might live over here. Nobody’s really sure. I assume you met him on the journey here?”

I nodded. “Do you know why he doesn’t talk?”

“You know, he hasn’t
told
me,” Poppy deadpanned. “Seeing how he doesn’t talk and all.”

“Ha-ha. You’re funny.” I grinned.

“Hey, you’re part of the family now. It’s your duty to laugh at my lame jokes.” Poppy patted my shoulder. “Look, your Mister Grumps is waiting on the porch. And he looks a bit angry, so I’m going to leave you here.”