Jinx & Tonic (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 3)

by Gina LaManna

  “What are you thinking, lady? You got your nasty spit all over me! What is this mess? So inconsiderate.” A tiny little Forest Fairy zoomed away from me, shaking her small body. “You lunatic.”

  “I’m a lunatic?” I thumbed at myself. “You flew straight at my mouth.”

  “You didn’t have to open your huge trap! I was going too fast and lost control when you sighed,” the Forest Fairy said. “Cripes! That mouth of yours is huge. It’s like a tornado, sucking me right in.”

  Ainsley stopped my argument with a touch of her hand on mine. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I work with Glinda,” the fairy said. She was about the size of my pointer finger, her wings fluttering in the air before us. “I’m out on a special favor for the Grandmother of the Woods.”

  “Can I talk to Glinda?”

  “I’m not good enough for you?” she spat. “Fine, here you go, but I expect a good review on my customer service report when this is all over.”

  The fairy reached up to her head. There was a bandana there with a tiny little gadget attached that worked sort of like a magical camera. The Forest Fairies worked for Glinda, specializing in communication techniques across the island. They might be annoying little buggers, but they got the word out, and fast.

  There was a crackle, a pop, and from the back of her bandana projected an image of Glinda behind her. Glinda’s official title was Emergency Contact Specialist, but that was a big title for a little witch who adored glitter and eyeliner and clothing a few sizes too small.

  “Chickies! How are you my lovelies?” Glinda sat on a bed with her hair wound in bright pink curlers. Her eyes, normally lined in thick, smudged mascara were clean of makeup. It made her look about thirty years younger than the last time I’d seen her. She wore a fluffy pink bathrobe and a bright smile. “Is Jessie treating you well?”

  Ainsley snorted, but I waved her off before the fairy got mad. “Jessie is lovely. Five stars for customer service. But Glinda, how did you know we’d need help tonight?”

  “My babies live and breathe The Forest,” Glinda said. “My snuggy-wugglums know when the Grandmother needs something.”

  “Grandmother?” I asked. “Who is this grandmother?”

  “You may know her as the Witch of the Woods,” Glinda said. “But to us, those who dwell in The Forest, she is the Grandmother of all life here. She’s the only soul on the island who can control the lions and the tigers, the beasts and the fairies, the trees and the flowers.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I had no idea.”

  “Meeting her is the greatest honor for any creature in The Forest, and we dare not disobey her. Though the rest of the island may be terrified of the creatures in the woods, she’s the gentle, guiding hand that rules us all. She’s the voice of the ugly, the forgotten, the frightening.”

  “You’re not any of those things,” Ainsley said. “In fact, I think you’re very pretty, and I love that robe on you.”

  “Isn’t it darling? It’s new.” Glinda blushed. “Thank you, Lily’s friend. You must come to the island more often.”

  “I’d love that.” Ainsley grinned. “We should do a ladies’ night sometime, the three of us. Wine, cheese—”

  Ainsley stopped talking as Glinda stiffened. “No.”

  “What’s wrong?” I leaned closer, watching as Glinda’s face went pale. “What happened?”

  “Something is wrong. You’re needed at your grandmother’s house. Go, Lily. Now!”

  Jessie the fairy lost all signs of sass, flipping the projection off. She waved an arm. “Follow close behind,” she said. “The Forest will guide us home.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Navigating The Forest had never been easier. We skirted the mountains, dodged the driftwood and fallen trees, and waded through gurgling streams in record time.

  When we burst out of The Forest’s darkness, I surprised myself by recognizing the location. “There’s Ranger X’s cabin.”

  The fairy glanced in the direction of my pointed finger. “Sorry, no time to stop.”

  “But—”

  “I have my orders, straight from Glinda herself. To The Twist—no stopping for any reason at all.”

  Ainsley and I picked up the pace. There was an urgency in the fairy’s voice driving us forward, pressing us through the last leg of our journey. When we reached the outside of The Twist, our new fairy friend bowed her head. “I must take my leave here. My business is done.”

  “Of course,” I reached out and gave the Forest Fairy the tiniest of fist-bumps, since her hand was too small to shake and I was afraid I’d squish her with a hug. “Thanks for everything. Glinda, too.”

  The fairy zoomed off, leaving Ainsley and me at the entrance to the labyrinth.

  I grabbed Ainsley by the wrist and dragged her through the convoluted maze. Flowers bloomed under the starlight, reaching toward the heavens as we dashed passed. Fountains spurted water into the sky, dancing to soundless music. The scent of lilacs was heavy tonight.

  Due to my West Isle Witch blood, we made it through the maze without error, emerging in front of the babbling brook outside of Hettie’s cottage in a few minutes time.

  “Your grandmother’s house is very Hansel and Gretel-esque,” Ainsley gasped. “And really hard to find. I could’ve used a few breadcrumbs along the way.”

  I didn’t respond, my heart sinking like a stone. “Ainsley, look!”

  The front door to Hettie’s cottage was open, tilted at an odd angle. Tiger, Hettie’s cat, paraded leisurely across the front steps. Despite the calmness of the scene, something was wrong. The wrongness seeped into my bones until I couldn’t take it any longer, and I rushed forward.

  “Wait!” Ainsley called. “It’s too dangerous to—”

  I didn’t listen, sprinting until I reached the front door. I bent down, scratched the cat’s ears, looking into his eyes to see if I could see a warning. But since I wasn’t a cat-whisperer, I was left with nothing. Tiger, unfazed by my presence, plopped down with a yawn.

  Ainsley followed as I stepped through the front door, her words of warning silenced as her footsteps sounded a half-beat after my own. The entryway was silent as a grave. The sound of my breathing bounced off the walls as I inched forward, one foot in front of the other. I held my breath.

  Another step forward, another breath, another beat of my terrified heart.

  The entryway was sheathed in shadows, the starlight reaching only inches past the doorway.

  One more step and I’d passed the last of the moonlight glinting against the floor. Only shadows stood before us.

  Ainsley breathed in my ear. “We shouldn’t be here.”

  I shook my head. We shouldn’t be here, but we were needed. “We’ve got to find—”

  A scream. Loud, shrill, terrified, cut me off mid-sentence. “Poppy!” I gasped. Then louder, “Poppy, where are you?”

  Ainsley and I launched forward at the same time, whipping our way around the corner of the hallway.

  My heart plummeted at the sight of Poppy sprawled across the floor. She held a hand to her head, her body still, her legs weakly splayed against the ground.

  I ran to her, collapsing by her side. “Poppy, talk to me! What happened? Are you okay?”

  Ainsley stood over us, her eyes scanning the hallways. They were empty. Except for Poppy’s erratic gasps, the house was still.

  I shook her shoulder. “Poppy, talk to us. Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes fluttered open, her fingers reaching for me. A single word croaked from her throat. “Hettie. . . ”

  “What about Hettie?” I asked, my voice strangled. “Where is she?”

  Poppy raised her hand, pointed down the hall toward our grandmother’s bedroom. “Help.”

  “Stay here,” I said to Ainsley. “Watch Poppy.”

  Ainsley didn’t listen, tailing me. Together, we crept down the hall. When we reached the bedroom door, it, too, was hanging open. I put my ear to crack and listened.


  Footsteps padded across the floor inside the bedroom—slow, deliberate steps.

  I gestured for Ainsley to come close. “I’m going inside.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she said firmly. “Ready?”

  There was no time to argue, so I nodded. Ainsley began a countdown from three. On one, she flung the door wide open and together, we rushed through.

  A cry of surprise burned in my throat at the woman before us.

  “Zin?”

  My cousin froze, hovering above our grandmother’s bed. Hettie lay sleeping, her mouth open wide, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Or the half-dead.

  Zin turned toward us, but as she did, I realized it wasn’t her standing before us. Her body, maybe, but not her mind. Zin’s eyes had dilated to glittering black gemstones, vacant and hungry.

  “Blood magic,” Ainsley said, her voice hushed. “It’s not her, it’s The Puppeteer.”

  “Zin, put it down,” I said, my eyes locked on the tiny capsule in her hand. “Give me the Poison Pill.”

  Zin perched over the bed, her motions robotic as she held the pill above our grandmother’s mouth. She didn’t speak, didn’t flinch—didn’t appear to hear me in the slightest.

  “Zin!” I spoke louder, firmly, trying to remember how I’d latched onto Ainsley’s voice when I’d been teetering on the ledge of the waterfall.

  Her eyes flicked toward my face. Hope surged through me, and I tried again.

  “Please, come back, Zin.” I stepped closer. “You can fight this.”

  Then, however, her eyes iced over, a wall of stone blotting out all hints of humanity. In a single motion, she turned and set the pill onto my grandmother’s tongue. Her arms moved like two-by-fours. Zin shuddered and then in a low, eerie intonation, she said, “It’s done.”

  “No!” Ainsley cried as Hettie’s snores halted.

  Then everything happened at once.

  I lunged for Zin. Hettie’s eyes flashed open. Ainsley flew toward my grandmother, reaching for the Poison Pill.

  Hettie beat us all, spitting the pill out of her mouth so that it landed with a clink on the floor. Zin didn’t move fast enough, and Hettie snaked out a hand and clutched her wrist with a vice-like grip. It was enough to distract Zin until I reached her, tackling her to the ground.

  Hettie sat up, stretched, and yawned. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a little shut-eye around here?”

  Ainsley retrieved the pill from beyond the bed, and then came up beside me. I sat on Zin’s chest, my eyes stinging with tears. She struggled to get free, but I held on tighter, pressing her arms to the floor. Normally, Zin was stronger than me, but her disorientation must have given me the upper hand.

  “Zin, stop it! This isn’t you.” I pleaded with her, begging her to listen. “It’s me. Lily.”

  Zin’s vacant eyes closed then, and she gave up. Still, I didn’t move. My eyes burned, and before I could help it, a hot, salty drop streaked down my cheeks and fell onto Zin’s face. It plopped onto her forehead, and then another and another.

  “Zin, wake up,” I said, ignoring Ainsley as she shook my shoulders. “Come on, listen to me.”

  One of my tears slid from my chin and dropped to her lips.

  Finally, Zin’s eyes flashed open. She blinked, her pupils dilated, largely unfocused as she stared into space. Then, suddenly, she focused on me, and I could see her. Zin.

  “You’re back,” I said, my chest nearly collapsing in relief. I rested a hand against her cheek. “Zin, can you hear me?”

  She blinked a few times. “Lily? What’s going on? Why are you sitting on me?”

  “You don’t remember anything?” I asked, my heart sinking at the thought of explaining everything to her. “What’s your last memory?”

  “What are you talking about?” Zin said, blinking a few more times, as if emerging from a deep sleep. “I went to bed, and then. . . well, I woke up to you squishing me. I can’t breathe, Lily, can you please get off of me?”

  Ainsley helped me to move shakily from Zin’s chest to stand. Zin started following suit, but Ainsley put an apologetic hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Ainsley whispered. “But I need to do this.” Ainsley clapped a pair of magic-proof handcuffs onto Zin. “These are Guardian-issue,” she explained to me. “I never leave home without them.”

  “What is this about?” Zin’s face crumpled in confusion, pain pinching her eyes. When she spoke, her voice rose an octave. “Somebody tell me what’s going on here!”

  “You tried to kill me, I’m guessing.” Hettie’s voice was light, a trace of a humor in her words. I could see beneath her lighthearted exterior to a layer of worry, a tremble of concern. “There are easier ways, you know, than trying to get me to swallow a pill in my sleep.”

  “What?” Zin flinched, backing away. “I would never. You’re my grandmother! I wouldn’t dream. . . ” Realization hit her at once, her words trailing away.

  The rest of the room fell deathly quiet.

  “This is the same thing that happened to Trent. And Camden,” she said finally, putting the pieces together, her voice rife with bitterness. “I understand what they mean—I almost poisoned my own grandmother.”

  “No,” I said. “It wasn’t you. It was The Puppeteer, and mind bending, and Zin… it’s not your fault.”

  “The Puppeteer?” Zin murmured. “But I thought… she’s been in jail for years.”

  I’d forgotten that Zin was out of the loop, locked away like Rapunzel in The Oasis. Of course she hadn’t heard the news. “You know about mind bending?”

  Zin gave a hesitant nod. “Most of us who grew up on the island are aware. It’s illegal, of course.”

  “Yes, but a prisoner escaped, and it’s believed that—”

  “—that she’s using her powers to murder Candidates.”

  “Candidates, and now others, too.” My heart ached as I watched Zin gather the pieces together.

  She sat down on the edge of Hettie’s bed. She tried, but couldn’t look at her grandmother. “I am so sorry.”

  “You don’t owe me any apologies.” Hettie crossed her arms, shaking her finger. “Also, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder to kill me than a little pill. I raised three daughters, and I’ll have you know they’ve nearly killed me a hundred times over from heart attacks. This is nothing, Zin.”

  Nobody believed her, least of all Zin. Despite my grandmother’s laissez-faire attitude, the room was somber.

  “Poppy!” I remembered suddenly. “We have to get Poppy. . . ”

  As if reading my thoughts, Poppy herself appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” she asked nonchalantly. “I was sleeping down the hall and heard a racket.”

  Zin held her breath, looked to her cousin. “Poppy, I… you didn’t see me, did you?”

  Poppy shrugged, hiding the look of concern behind a bright smile. “What are you talking about?”

  “Call Ranger X, please,” Zin said to her. “Now. I need to be taken away, just like Trent.”

  “No, Zin,” I said. “It wasn’t you, it was—”

  “Call him,” Zin said. “If I’m a danger to my family, I don’t want to be part of the Trials.”

  “But—”

  “The Ranger program is an honor—it is about protecting my loved ones, not ruining them, and in the name of doing what’s best for my island, I need to turn myself in.”

  “Zin—”

  “Call him,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Ranger X arrived at The Twist twenty minutes later. I met him at the entrance, explaining everything as we made the trek through the labyrinth. I left out the whole journey to see the Witch of the Woods, at least for now. I didn’t want to overload him when there was enough happening right in front of us.

  “How did you know to come here?” he asked. “I expected you to be at the bungalow. I stopped by earlier, but nobody was there. . . ”

  I hesitated. “Can I please explain that later?�
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  “Lily.” He didn’t sound happy, and I didn’t blame him. “What is going on?”

  “Later,” I said. “First, Zin. Then you can take me home and I’ll explain everything I can, I promise.”

  “Everything you can? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “First, Zin,” I said firmly. “Please. It’s hard enough without us arguing.”

  We made the rest of the walk in silence. There was a tenseness in the air, a disconnect between the two of us that I didn’t like at all. We’d never kept secrets before, at least not on purpose. Not unless absolutely necessary.

  Then I remembered Ainsley’s words—to show Ranger X how I felt, especially at the moment when I couldn’t say the words I wanted. As we reached the end of the labyrinth, I reached over and took his hand in mine. I held it tight, giving him a little squeeze.

  A breath escaped from his lips, and as he looked over, some of the tension melted with that single, small smile.

  I returned it, and he squeezed back. Together, we approached Hettie’s home, hand in hand. There were secrets between us, and I needed to find a way to deal with them. But for this moment in time, our trust in each other would have to be enough.

  “Zin,” Ranger X said as we entered the kitchen. “Lily caught me up, but I’ll need to hear everything from you.”

  She stood with her head hanging, the sharp black bob cutting across her chin. A despondent expression darkened her pale face as she raised her cuffed hands before her. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but not here. Anywhere but here.”

  Ranger X hesitated for a long moment. He glanced around the room, and then offered a nod. “Come with me, then.”

  I leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He held me close, his arm tightening around my back in a rough hug.

  “I’m coming over later,” he murmured. “Please be waiting for me.”

  “I will,” I whispered into his ear. “I promise. I love you.”

  He kissed my forehead and murmured the words back.

  Zin stood like a prisoner before us, her eyes averted. When Ranger X stepped away, she shuffled ahead of him down the front steps.