Amuletto Kiss (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 5)

by Gina LaManna

  I gasped in surprise. I yanked the cap from the beaker and threw my arm out, fully extended, pushing the potion away from me. The second I caught the scent of the potion once more, the burn against my skin faded to nothing. The light from the charm burned down from its fierce anger into a warm and comforting glow.

  Confused, I peered into the potion, inhaled again, and was rewarded by a flickering of the heart on my necklace, as if it approved. “That’s impossible,” I muttered to myself. “Impossible.”

  I glanced behind me, checking to confirm I’d locked the front door. I had closed up while I’d cleaned the storeroom in preparation for the next morning; I hadn’t gotten much restful sleep the night before, and I had an early morning tomorrow, so while all was calm in the bungalow, I intended to get to bed early.

  Except for the niggling feeling of unfinished business. For some reason, I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother’s charm had other plans for me.

  Maybe one sip of potion won’t be so dangerous, I thought to myself. After all, Long Isle had been created as a party trick. A fun little way to escape into costume.

  After a few minutes, I’d convinced myself that this was the best solution. Ladling a small portion of the pink liquid into a clear glass chalice, I brought the mixture to my lips and paused. The charm on my necklace seemed to come alive, practically humming with the proximity of the Mix. Encouraged, I took the first sip.

  Before my eyes, I morphed gently, slowly, into her. I downed the rest of the potion I’d poured as my mother’s features slid into place. Once the transformation was complete, I grabbed a mirror and took a seat on the fireplace hearth. Finally, I studied my face in it. Her face.

  My somewhat sharp cheekbones rounded into softer curves, and the stress lines on my forehead disappeared. My lips filled out, my hair changed to soft waves, my eyes brightened at the sight of it all.

  “Where are you?” I raised my fingers, pressed them to the glass, and realized the question was a silly one. Dead, that was the answer. My mother had been dead since the year I’d been born. “What do you want from me?”

  My mother’s eyes softened, and the face in the mirror shook her head at me. With a start, I wondered if I’d shaken my own head. I couldn’t remember; I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.

  “Why does your necklace want me to see you so badly? It feels like...it feels like it’s trying to tell me something. But what?”

  There was no response this time, but curiously, the face in the mirror looked so deeply into my eyes I lost track of our differences. The similarities between mother and daughter were uncanny, but it was more than that. As if the reflection in the mirror had a personality of her own.

  “Mom?” I whispered, feeling the tears prick in my eyes. “Are you still here somewhere?”

  No response this time, but the eyes in the mirror glistened back. I forced myself to remember it was me in the room alone. Me.

  “What happened to you?” I shook my head at the futility of questioning my own reflection. Instead, I changed tactics. “Your family doesn’t believe you were killed in a human mugging gone wrong. I swear I will find out who took you away from me—from everyone who loved you.” At this, the illusion flickered. “No, stay! Please don’t leave me!”

  My voice infused with desperation as the image began to fade. I had taken a small portion of Long Isle Iced Tea, and I’d lost track of time, burning through the potion before I was ready to revert.

  “Mom! Wait!” My fingers clawed at the mirror, trying to drag her back.

  It was too late. My cheekbones had returned to sharper points, and the bags under my eyes and lines across my forehead were back, deep and threatening. My eyes dimmed from the light of hers, turning to glassy red-rimmed gems.

  “No!” I leapt to my feet, lunged for the table in the center of the room. I grabbed the ladle with such force some of the contents splashed onto the table and left a trail of faint pink sheen.

  I’d just poured myself another goblet—a much larger dose—when a knock on the door sent my spine stiffening. I stood still, hoping my visitor would vanish if I remained silent.

  As the knock sounded again, a sense of horror set in. What if it was X outside? Did I so badly want to spend time with the dead that I’d forget the living?

  Battling curiosity and shame, I quickly capped the potion and slid the beaker onto the shelves. As for my goblet...I looked wistfully at it, then emptied the contents into a fresh vial and corked that, too.

  By the time I opened the front door, I’d mildly put myself back together, though I didn’t trust the look in my eyes. I felt frenzied, and the annoyance at my visitor bubbled near the surface.

  “Trinket?” I gaped in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  Her face was pointed down, her hands clasped before her. “I wanted to apologize.”

  As she turned her gaze up, her eyes came to rest on my face. She studied my expression with excruciating detail. I shrunk back under her gaze, realizing at once that I hadn’t tucked my mother’s necklace back into my shirt.

  I scrambled to hide the charm, but it was too late. She’d seen the glowing necklace, as well as my haste to hide it from her. She knew.

  I wasn’t prepared for her to lunge. She reached for my necklace with fervor. My breath vanished as we landed in a lump on the floor—our bodies tangled around one another. I might be younger, nimbler than she, but my willpower and strength to overpower a member of my family was no match for hers.

  Her bony hands gripped my shoulders as she yanked me toward her, bringing our faces close enough to touch with the slightest movement. “Where is she?”

  “Trinket!” I struggled to back away, but her grip was too strong. “What are you talking about?”

  “Delilah. You changed into her—you’ve been swearing you’d never do it again, and I came to apologize tonight for pressuring you into it. But you. You’ve gone and done it anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at me, her voice rising to the screechy octaves. “Behind my back.”

  “I haven’t! I just needed to see—”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing! It’s not her, Trinket—it’s me. It’s a reflection. It’s why I’m getting rid of the whole thing. I’m not brewing more.”

  “You have the potion here, I can smell it.” Trinket’s grip tightened as her eyes raised over my shoulders and surveyed the storeroom behind me. “A fresh vial, over there on the shelves. You were going to take more, weren’t you? Weren’t you?”

  I finally got up the courage to grip Trinket’s hands in mine and extract them from my shirt. I scrambled backward, away from her. “You’ve got to take a breath. What I do as Mixologist is private business.”

  “This isn’t Mixology business.” Trinket stood, leaving me unattended on the floor as she glided across the room and retrieved the recently emptied goblet. Then, she found the newly corked vial, surveyed it with a smile, and then extended it toward me. “Drink.”

  “No, I don’t want to take more—it’s not safe.”

  “Drink. I want to see her. I need to know what happened.”

  “No. I refuse.”

  “You were going to before I interrupted—rewind just a few minutes, Lily.”

  “It’s dangerous!” I exploded. “I don’t know what happened tonight. It felt like—it felt like it wasn’t me in that reflection. That’s not supposed to happen! The potion is all sorts of wrong. It’s a dangerous Mix, and if we don’t watch out, we’ll turn it into a curse. We will get lost staring into the mirror at a dead woman. Is that what you want?”

  Trinket hissed as she stepped closer. “I’m here now. I’ll pull you out of it. She’s your mother—she died for you. Don’t you want to find out why? Who murdered her? Drink, Lily.”

  “I won’t—”

  At my refusal, Trinket reached for me, clasping one hand behind my head, dropping the goblet with a clatter to the floor, as the other thumb flicked off the lid of the vial and brought it t
o my lips. “Let me see her!”

  The taste of Long Isle hit my lips, and suddenly, it was the only thing I wanted. I desired so desperately to see her again, to touch her face in the mirror, to pretend she was real. I closed my eyes and licked a drop from my lips, hungry for more.

  But something held me back from parting my lips and taking the rest of the potion. The wildness in Trinket’s eyes terrified me. The feel of her fingers pinching against my neck pinned me to reality.

  “Stop!” I shouted, but her steel grasp didn’t budge. “Trinket, let me go.”

  “One sip, Lily,” she said. “One sip, you stubborn child!”

  “Protectum Possibile,” I yelped, reeling away from her as the spell launched from my lips.

  I bent in half, hugging my stomach as Trinket’s body flew backward. The vial crashed to the floor and shattered, the pink liquid seeping into the floorboards. The din of it all sent jolts of nervous energy across the room, punctuated by the quiet oomph that came from Trinket as she hit the front door and slid to the floor.

  At once, I was apologizing, my neck knotted in nerves as I sprinted to her side. “Trinket, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you—I’m so sorry.”

  Trinket’s eyes remained closed, but her breaths were heavy.

  “I can’t drink more. I can’t lose myself to her, do you understand me?” My breath came in gulps and my words were a garbled mess as I let my hands flutter over Trinket’s body, feeling for any injuries, looking for signs of blood or hurt.

  She seemed fine, save for a small lump on her forehead where the vial had cut her as it shattered. I reached to my travel belt and removed the Aloe Ale, peppering some onto the nick and murmuring a charm to slow the bleeding.

  She swatted me away before I could finish. I watched her struggle to her feet, a droplet of blood sliding over her cheeks and down to her chin. It gave her an eerie look.

  I sucked in a sharp breath as she leaned toward my chest. As she moved to her feet, I stepped away from her. When she took a step closer to me, I flinched.

  At my retreat, Trinket took one look at herself, then at me. Panic set in, replacing the wildness, the desire, the demand. Her entire body trembled as if the protective spell had knocked sense into her. Though her hair stood messily on end and her face was streaked with blood, the gut-wrenching remorse in her eyes couldn’t be clearer.

  “Lily...” Her lip trembled. She reached toward me with thin fingers, but on second thought, pulled them back. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Trinket, please, forget it. It was the potion talking back there; it wasn’t you.”

  I trailed off because Trinket clearly wasn’t listening. She back stepped until her hand reached the doorknob, and she yanked it open. In a flash of swirling skirts and a now-loose bun of hair, she gave me one last glance, then turned and fled into the night.

  I left the door open, staring into the darkness as I struggled to catch my breath. I’d barely begun to survey the mess of potion on the floor when a voice spoke from outside. Cautious at first, then concerned.

  “Lily?” Footsteps turned into a pounding jog. Ranger X appeared in the doorway breathing heavily. “Lily?!”

  “I’m right here. What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” He stopped, surveying the room with a question on his lips. “Why was your door open in the middle of the night?”

  “It’s not the middle of the night,” I said, glancing at the clock. “I’m just cleaning up before bed. The door—well, Trinket stopped over and she just left. I was airing the place out.”

  Ranger X’s sharp eyes took in the scene, and I could sense the calculations ticking through his brain. “What did Trinket want?” His voice sounded casual, but his demeanor had tensed. “Seems like a nasty spill there on the ground. Don’t step on the broken glass.”

  “Just dropped a potion as I was showing her something,” I said, forcing a smile as I reached for the broom. “What brings you here, anyway?”

  “Is that Long Isle Iced Tea?” Ranger X stepped toward the table where some of it had spilled. He swiped a finger over the liquid and took in the scent. “I wasn’t aware you were brewing more.”

  “I brew things all the time for customers. I didn’t know I needed to submit a log of them.” I sounded snappish. Before I could apologize, I was distracted by the appearance of another figure in the doorway—the same Ranger who’d been shadowing X at Annabelle’s farm. “Can I help you?”

  Ranger X looked behind him. “Ranger J and I were following up on some leads when we saw your door open. I wanted to stop by anyway, and he was with me, so he came along. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I stared at Ranger X curiously. “Of course I don’t mind. But you still haven’t told me the purpose of your visit.”

  “We’re here with a decree,” Ranger J spoke up, his chest puffing proudly in the background. “The Rangers are ordering you to—”

  “Shut up,” Ranger X snapped in a startling display of temper. “You don’t speak to the Mixologist like that.”

  “The Mixologist?” I asked. “Or your girlfriend? What’s this about, X—is this visit personal or business?”

  Ranger X met my gaze without flinching, but I could see he was affected by my cool tone. Ranger J looked downright sheepish, hovering back into the shadows with his lips sealed.

  X sighed. “It’s official business. I’m sorry, Lily.”

  “Then let me have it; I’m in no mood for games.” I propped the broom against the table. “What’s this decree?”

  “We have issued a ban on the creation and distribution of the potion known as Long Isle Iced Tea,” Ranger X said, the entire statement heavy and solemn. “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  “Don’t apologize.” I picked the broom back up and gripped the handle so tightly it might’ve cracked in two. “It’s just business.”

  “It’s not just business. You’re turning this into something it’s not.” Ranger X ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at his partner. “Wait outside, will you? And shut the damn door.”

  Ranger J was apparently more used to X’s harsh tone than me. He leapt to attention and followed orders. Once he was far enough outside, Ranger X let down part of the shield, his eyes softening as they turned to me.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” he said. “Ranger J has been...struggling. That’s why he’s my partner. I’ve made it mandatory for Rangers to work in pairs so that...”

  “All of you have consistent alibis,” I said. “You need to be able to vouch for everyone’s whereabouts at all times because of whatever’s happening.”

  Ranger X gave a hesitant nod. “He spoke out of line about the decree, and I apologize. He shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Oh, I have no beef with him.” I let one hand off the broom and rested it on my hip. “He told me the truth. I have a problem with whatever’s happening between us.”

  “I love you, Lily—”

  “I love you, too. That has never been the question. The question is...” I paused in thought. The question was more difficult to formulate than I’d expected—I was still partially in shock. “What is going on, X? A decree? Since when have Rangers restricted Mixology magic?”

  “I’m sorry, I had to do something. We have the press conference tomorrow, and there are rumors...” He closed his eyes. “There are rumors of people seeing Rangers at the scenes of these crimes. There are laws against impersonating Rangers, and it’s extremely difficult to do.”

  “But?”

  “But you saw Zin on the night of Poppy’s birthday party,” Ranger X continued. “She looked like me. Maybe not identical, but enough where...enough that she could have been mistaken for me from a distance.”

  “Are you trying to say I sold Long Isle Iced Tea to a member of The Faction?”

  “This isn’t about you, Lily! You did nothing wrong. But you did create a potion so powerful it can be used like a curse. The Isle is hurting, and I need to staunch the bleeding.”

  I sw
allowed, unable to argue with him. I’d seen the unrest on the island with my own eyes.

  “I don’t know the potion is responsible, but I am at a loss for what to do to stop this from happening again. We have no leads, nothing solid. Nobody’s been seen at the scene of the crimes except for a few mentions of someone in Ranger clothing.”

  “It can’t be the potion responsible—”

  “We need to do something!” Ranger X roared. “I’m sorry. Sorry,” he muttered at once, shrinking back. “I am running low on options.”

  I set the broom down gently against the table, my arms sliding into a hug around myself feeling weak, tired. “Why didn’t you just ask? I would’ve stopped selling it if you had just come to me and asked.”

  “I made a rash decision,” he said, the pain of it evident on his face. “There was another incident tonight—someone took all of Marty Yesterbag’s unicorn horns. Those cost a fortune. I’ll give you one guess who he thought he saw climbing out the window of his barn where he stored the stuff.”

  My silence was enough of an answer.

  “A Ranger,” X said, and the full weight of the day was visible on his face. He ached with the stress, and I ached for him. “The reporters were there already. I can’t figure out how they were tipped off, and none of them are talking—they’re just happy for the dirt.”

  “Right.”

  “I didn’t mean to march in here demanding things. I was heated when I left Marty’s, and I should have taken a minute to calm down.” He crossed his arms over a broad chest. “I needed to give the reporters something. It’s been too long without anything from Ranger HQ, so I told them we’d ban Long Isle Iced Tea from being served on the island until we sort things out. I meant to ask you, I promise.”

  “Well, thanks for letting me know.” I bent down to retrieve the full dustpan, then on second thought, zapped it with a cleaning spell. It helped to burn off some of my frustrated energy. “I’m sure you have a long night ahead of you, so I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll see you in the morning.”