Witchy Sour (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 2) (2 page)

BOOK: Witchy Sour (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 2)
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“Oh, well,” I paused in thought. “Gus, of course. The previous Mixologists. I’m sure there are others who have seen it. Gus doesn’t hide the manuscript. During the day, it’s almost always out on the table in plain sight. He’ll yell at people if they touch it, but I know for a fact that Mimsey and Poppy and Zin have flipped through it when he’s not looking.”

“So, anyone who’s visited the bungalow could’ve seen it.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I suppose. We rarely locked it away. The night it was stolen was the first night we’d put it in the safe since my arrival on the island. Usually Gus is here so late, and back so early, he’ll either take it with him, or leave it out for a few hours.”

“So whoever stole it had to know it wouldn’t be guarded—at least, not by you or Gus—on that very night.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I said. “That would mean it’s someone close enough to know our schedule.”

Ranger X merely raised an eyebrow.

“It couldn’t have been,” I said. “With the exception of Harpin, I
like
everyone I’ve met on this island. Why would they steal from me?”

“Does Harpin have a motive to steal the book?”

I bit the edge of my lip. “Maybe. He’s been angling for my job for a long time. If he had the potions book, maybe he’d try to take over. Use it in his tea shop to cook up something deadly, I don’t know.”

Ranger X seemed distracted, and it took me a moment to realize he was staring at my lips instead of listening to what I was saying.

“Hey, you,” I said, reaching out and snapping a finger in his direction. “I’m talking to you.”

He recovered as gracefully as possible, blinking and dragging his gaze up to my eyes. “I was…reading your lips.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, there’s a spell system guarding this book. It’s extremely thorough, according to Gus.”

“I know the system, I’ve studied it.” Ranger X shook his head as my mouth opened. “Don’t worry, I have no use for your light reading. If I wanted your Mixology book, I’d already have it. Lily, believe me when I say—it’s not the
book
that I want.”

The way his eyes played over my face, I sensed there was something else he wanted entirely. However, now was not the time to deal with our personal history. “You’ve studied the spell system?”

He nodded. “I use it as an example when training new Rangers. It’s one of the most complicated security systems out there.”

“Can you walk me through it?” I asked. “I’ve seen Gus’s rough sketch, but I don’t understand it. He’s not the most patient teacher in the world.”

X’s eyes gleamed. “You don’t say. Where is he, by the way?”

“Went home for the night. Even Gus needs sleep, you know.”

“I’ll help, but then you must promise to get some rest, too. You were practically snoring when I rubbed your back.”

“I don’t snore.”

“That’s what they all say.”


All
?” I raised an eyebrow. “Who does
all
include?”

“Figure of speech!” Ranger X grimaced, a slight red adding to the tanned color of his face. “Lily, I don’t—I’d never—”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding.” I reached over and squeezed his arm. I might as well have squeezed a brick. “Now, how does this system work?”

** **

Hours later, well past midnight, Ranger X and I stepped back.

“I think that’s everything,” he said slowly.

“Isn’t that enough?” I surveyed our creation—a series of ribbons, threads of yarn, pieces of rope, all crisscrossing in organized chaos—and my eyebrows raised. “All these spells, and somebody still stole the book?” I asked, my voice colored with shades of disbelief and awe. “How?”

“That’s the million coin question,” X said. “Don’t forget, there was also a spell on the safe itself. If someone who had never touched the book tried to remove it from the safe, an alarm would sound both here, and at Ranger HQ. It never went off.”

“So that means someone found a way around the spell.”

“That, or it’s someone who has handled the book previously. Someone who understands the intricacies of the spell system, and someone smart enough to fool them.”

I sighed, not liking the list of names that were left for me to ponder. “I can’t think anymore.”

“I have to get going, but it’d be a shame not to finish this wine.” He held up the bottle, a hopeful look in his eye. “Will you help me polish it off?”

I held up my glass. “Can’t hurt.”

“It’s good for you. Loosens you up.”

I crooked an eyebrow in his direction. “You’re trying to loosen me up?”

“Not you—everyone. I mean, not everyone, I mean wine loosens everyone up.” Ranger X closed his mouth, and then started over. “Do you want me to top off your glass or not?”

I laughed, this unsure, awkward side of him was one I rarely saw. When he was around his team of Rangers, he was all boss, all the time. I liked this side for a change. “Come join me.”

Before he sat down on the couch, he bent over a never-used fireplace, muttered a few words, and a fire began to roar. “Ambiance,” he said briskly as he joined me on the couch.

We lounged next to each other, both of us sipping our wine in silence, pondering the maze of spells. To me, it looked all
Beautiful Mind
with a twist of chaos theory, and I was mostly glad there were people smarter than me to understand it.

The only thing I knew for certain, however, was that whoever had stolen the spellbook was somebody I knew. Somebody who knew me, knew my schedule, knew the security system.

That was a short list of people, and a list I didn’t like to consider under the circumstances.      

Instead of running over that list of names, it was easier to close my eyes and snuggle up on Ranger X’s shoulder. He worked nicely as a pillow. I curled my legs under my body and told myself I was only resting my eyes.

The next thing I knew, my wine glass was lifted from my fingers, and a set of arms thick as tree trunks lifted me, cradled me, and carried me upstairs. I struggled to open my eyes through the haze, but sleep called louder than consciousness, and my body fell limp against Ranger X’s chest.

He deposited me as gently as he might a kitten on my bed, the fluffy comforter enveloping me as he tucked the edges in snug around my shoulders.

“Goodnight, Lily Locke,” he said, brushing strands of flyaway hair off my forehead. “Sleep tight.”

I might have mumbled something back, but already, I was well on my way to slumber.

When I woke in the morning, I found it impossible to remember if the brush of his lips against my forehead had been a sweet piece of reality, or nothing but a dream.

** **

An orangish glow peered over the horizon and turned the sky a beautiful watercolor of cotton candy pink and Easter-egg purple. Taking a seat on one of the bar stools, I cupped a warm concoction both stronger and tastier than human coffee. Here on the Isle, it was known as a Caffeine Cup.

I woke early this morning, despite my late evening with Ranger X. The memories of last night had me humming as I awaited the arrival of the regulars. The bungalow, as I’d so fondly nicknamed the beach house and bar combination, served as my home, workshop, and storefront. It was a cute place with purple and pink paint, and large windows hugged by rickety white shutters.

I greedily stole the last few minutes of peaceful quiet for myself. The palm leaves rustled, the gentle lake waves lapped against the white sand shores, and the sky grew powder blue and free of clouds. The beautiful climate, one of sunshine and balmy temperatures, was controlled by a nifty little charm that allowed the islanders to live under tropical blue skies year round, despite our location in the middle of Lake Superior.

The relaxing morning sounds were shattered by two bubbly voices carrying across the open sand. With a smile, I hopped to my feet and turned up the fire under the teakettle. I waved at my cousins and set two more coffee cups out, along with a fancy beaker that looked like a chemistry set to brew my infamous new recipe.

“You’re all ready for us? What gets you up before noon?” My plump, sunny cousin named Poppy bounced up the stairs to the bar and gave me a squeeze. “That smells delicious.”

I grinned and placed a filter on top of the beaker. Dumping a finely mixed potion the consistency of coffee grounds into the contraption, I winked. “And that’s just the smell. Wait until you get a taste.”

“If that tastes as good as it smells, I might never leave,” Poppy groaned. “You said you’re looking for roommates, right? I’m ready to get out of my mom’s abode. I mean, I love Chunk, but I think he can take care of himself.”

I winked. “The offer never expires.”

I’d only known my cousins for a few weeks, but already I’d mentioned the possibility of them moving in with me. The bungalow had plenty of space for all of us, and it’d give them the opportunity to move out of their childhood homes. Unfortunately, we’d been so busy with the hunt for the missing spellbook that the subject hadn’t come up again.

Resting a hand on my hip, I shut the burner off and poured the boiling water over the powder. The instant the water hit the mixture, the tiny grains bloomed up to three times their size, reminding me of a marshmallow heated in the microwave. The water dripped through slowly, and Poppy deeply inhaled the rich scent.

“Is she okay?” I waved a hand in front of my other cousin’s face. “Earth to Zin! Want some?”

Zin was the exact opposite of Poppy. While Poppy was blond and bubbly and over-the-top in every way, Zin was all sharp angles, jet black hair, and edgy attitude.

“You’re interrupting her concentration,” Poppy said with an eye roll. “She’s been trying to see if she’s telepathic.”

Zin’s eyes were closed. At the sound of her name, she took a few steps forward, feeling her way around blindly. She tried to sit down, but her hands grasped at air until finally, she gave up and peeked. Climbing onto a stool, she pouted. “I can hear you rolling your eyes, Poppy, and you should stop. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“You just opened your eyes to find the chair,” Poppy said. “Forget it, Zin. You’re not telepathic!”

Zin grumbled something then swiveled the bar stool to face the counter. She closed her eyes and raised both hands to the side of her head with her thumb and middle fingers touching in circles. She could pass for a far more feminine, and far more petite, version of Buddha.

“Are you meditating?” I asked.

“I’m telepath-ating.”

“You look like you’re meditating,” Poppy said. “That’s how meditators sit.”

“Have you ever seen a telepathic person sit?” Zin opened one eyelid. “Maybe this is how they sit.”

Poppy rolled her eyes and looked at me. “The Rangers have an open enrollment period in a month and Zin’s training hard for it.”

“I didn’t know they had open enrollment,” I said, pouring the concoction from the beaker into cups. I pushed the mugs over to them and then filled another one for myself. “I thought that was more of a recruitment thing.”

“It is, in a sense. This is the first time they’re letting folks volunteer to be Candidates,” Poppy said with a smug smile. “I suggested it. She has to be chosen to participate of course, but it’s a small step forward.”

“That’s great! I’m surprised they went for it,” I said cautiously. “The Rangers seem...strict.”

The Rangers were the darkest, the most dangerous wizards on The Isle. They walked the line between good and evil to protect the rest of us—a never-seen, never-heard sort of bunch.

“Your boyfriend was a big reason that the program started.” Poppy gave me the side-eye as she took a sip from the mug. “You should tell him thanks.”

My cheeks flamed red. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“What is he?” Zin peeked through the other eyelid. Now both her eyes were open, and the only thing meditative about her position was the crossing of her legs and the circles of her hands.

“Well, Ms. Telepathy, shouldn’t you be able to tell me?”

“Telepathy is a fine art. I don’t just go reading each and every one of your thoughts,” Zin said crossly. “It takes time, energy, and practice, and I don’t have the patience to be focusing on your love life. I’m working on bigger and better things.”

“The only thing you need to focus on is not spilling your coffee all over the counter.” Poppy nodded toward the cup in Zin’s hand, which was balanced at a precarious angle. Foregoing all signs of telepathy, Zin groaned and swung her legs down from the stool, setting the cup on the counter. Poppy shook her head. “I’m telling you that telepathy is not a requirement to become a Ranger.”

“What are the requirements?” Zin asked. “If you’d just tell me, I wouldn’t have to keep bothering you.”

“She’s been asking me this question every day since the trials have been announced, and she knows I can’t say,” Poppy said, turning back to me. She raised her mug. “This is good, by the way.”

“Why can’t you say? The requirements aren’t public?”

Zin shook her head. “It’s considered a ‘natural fit’ process. What the Rangers look for in a Candidate is largely a mystery. They say the true signs of a Ranger will emerge naturally, and if they give off hints, people will game the system.”

“That makes training difficult,” I said with a sympathetic look to Zin. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Hold on, don’t you wiggle out of this one,” Poppy said, pointing to me. “Even though Zin’s not telepathic, she’s got a point. What is Ranger X to you? You can’t keep secrets from us, you know. We’re your cousins and your friends, so that’s a double no-no. Spill the beans, Lily.”

“There are no beans to spill!” I shrugged, stalling with a huge gulp of coffee. I took my time swallowing, but even so, both pairs of eyes bored into my skull until I relented. “Fine, you want the truth? There’s nothing between us...anymore. We’re just working together to find
The Magic of Mixology
, that’s all. Nothing more than that.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Poppy narrowed her eyes at me. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

“You’re a skeptic, and you’re as bad as Hettie trying to set me up on a date. I’ve hardly been here two months and you all are acting like I’m turning ‘spinster’ on my next birthday.”

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