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

by Gina LaManna

  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.”

  “Well, you aren’t getting any younger,” Zin pointed out. “No offense.”

  “You can’t talk.” Poppy jabbed a finger at Zin. “You’re more interested in learning how to fight people than love them.”

  “There are more important things than getting married.” Zin pointed her nose up and sniffed. “I’d say becoming a Ranger is one of them.”

  “So?” Poppy asked sharply. “Where is X now? Has he bought you dinner yet or something?”

  “I told you! We’re just working on the case. Come here, I’ll show you the map we made last night.” Turning from the bar, I led the girls into the storeroom.

  “Last night, huh?” Poppy followed me inside, surveying the hectic display in the room. “Did he stay over?”

  Off to one side of the storeroom was the semi-hidden staircase that led a few floors up through a twisty, turny passageway. At the top was the attic—I warmed thinking of my trip upstairs with X just hours before.

  “No, of course not,” I said. “We were working. That’s it. We have a working relationship.”

  “Your relationship is a piece of work,” Poppy grumbled. “Get over it and just make out with him already.”

  I waited a moment, praying my ears would stop burning red. “Look. Do you see the ropes? That’s what we were doing all night. Believe me, it wasn’t romantic.”<
br />
  “What am I looking at?” Zin stomped in a few moments later, her leather pants making slight squishing noises as she strode across the bar with thick, intimidating boots that somehow looked stylish. The whole vibe matched with her leather jacket and heavy eyeliner, complemented by the straight-edged bob falling just below her chin; the style a little longer in the front and shorter in the back.

  “I thought you were telepathic,” I said, unable to help myself. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Zin crossed her arms. “Maybe I’m not telepathic, okay? I’m still working on finding my Uniqueness.”

  “Your uniqueness?”

  “Every Ranger has some quality that makes them a unique asset to the business,” Poppy explained. As the part-time dispatcher for Ranger HQ, Poppy often had surprising insight into the top secret agency. “For some, it’s a learned skill. You know, like the ability to kill someone with a pinky nail or tie five hundred different styles of knots or speak six languages.”

  “That’s a lot to learn,” I said. “What’s the other option?”

  “Some have natural tendencies that make their Uniqueness easier to learn. For example, there’s one Ranger who can sniff out a poisonous potion from miles away. He’s got a natural skill, but he’s trained himself to be the ‘go-to-guy’ when mysterious potions show up on The Isle.”

  “Those are the only options?” I asked. “Where does telepathy come in?”

  “There’s one last group,” Poppy explained. “Those born with an advantage. You know, the shape shifters and what not—those who can add a unique twist to the agency.”

  “It’s difficult to find a Uniqueness that hasn’t been taken already,” Zin said. “I thought about knife throwing, but there’s already an expert. Same with archery. There’s nothing left!”

  “Why can’t you have two people with the same thing?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem like it’d hurt to double up.”

  Poppy and Zin swiveled their gazes to me like I’d grown eight heads.

  “That’s why it’s called a Uniqueness,” Zin said eventually. “It has to be unique.”

  “But why?”

  “Think of it this way,” Poppy said. “Each Ranger is a snowflake. This is not one massively trained army, it’s a small group of swift, deadly men. The more people who know the secrets they do, the less private those secrets become, and sometimes, those secrets need to remain buried. Each Ranger has one specialty, and once that specialty is covered—that’s it.”

  “In the event one of them can’t continue to do their job for any reason...” Zin started, but trailed off. “Let’s just say, I’d be waiting a long time for an opening. That is why I need to make my own.”

  “I’ll help you,” I said. “So will Poppy. What are you good at?”

  Zin shrugged. “I can shoot arrows. I can handle a knife, and I can smell a potion about fifty percent of the time.”

  Poppy snorted. “No way are you becoming the poison tester. Those aren’t great odds at survival, so I won’t let you.”

  “That’s what I’m saying! Nothing stands out,” Zin said, her shoulders sinking. “I’m never going to make it.”

  “That’s not true.” I moved to her side, squeezing her in a one-armed hug. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe it’ll just take some time for the right idea to hit you. You’re a shifter, what about that?”

  Zin stiffened under my arm. “No.”

  “She’s sensitive about that subject,” Poppy whispered, leaning in. “Still can’t figure out her final form. The Rangers won’t let her in until she can shift consistently, so she’s got a month to figure it out. That’s probably why she’s tense. Do you have a potion for that? Some sort of Stress Relief beverage?”

  “I don’t need it,” Zin argued. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What are these ropes all about, anyway? Is this about your missing spellbook?”

  I nodded, wishing I could help her feel better, but I didn’t know the first thing about shape shifting. Or Rangers. Or really, much of anything magical except for the few simple potions I’d been learning with Gus.

  Zin raised her eyebrows at the ropes strewn across the room. “How is this supposed to help you find a thief?”

  I stepped over a piece of wire to stand in the center of the room. “Each one of these yarn strings represents a protective spell that’d been actively guarding the spellbook. They act like an alarm system, and in theory, one or more of the alarms should have gone off before the book could have been stolen.”

  “No alarm went off?” Poppy asked.

  “That’s the problem,” I said. “Whoever stole the book maneuvered past one of the most complicated spell systems on the island.”

  “Do you think it’s someone with insider knowledge on the setup?” There was a hint of caution in Poppy’s voice that caught me by surprise.

  “That’s the puzzle,” I said. “I don’t know. Gus and I have been over every last inch of this place, and neither he nor I have any guesses as to how a person could get away so cleanly. I worked it out with X last night, and he didn’t have a clue, either.”

  “Gus is a smart guy,” Zin said. “He knows his way around this place?”

  “Better than anyone,” I said, starting to nod. Then I caught the meaning behind Zin’s words and stopped mid-head-bob. “You’re not suggesting that Gus had something to do with this?”

  Zin raised her shoulders. “I mean...the person must be familiar with the spellbook. They must have had access to the book before. They must’ve picked it up, and probably looked through the layout of the spell system protecting it. The person would likely have to know this space very well.”

  “They’d also have to know you,” Poppy said, chiming in. “What time you go to sleep, how you work, your systems.”

  “No!” I shook my head violently. “Gus loves this place more than anyone else. There’s no way he’d sabotage it, or steal the book. He’s worried sick about it; we both are!”

  “Where is he now?” Zin gave a pointed stare around the room. “What’s he up to?”

  “I don’t have to babysit him every minute of the day,” I said more crossly than I intended. Like it or not, my feathers were ruffling. Plus, Gus should’ve been here by now, and Gus was never late. “He can come and go as he pleases.”

  “Don’t be blind to the facts,” Zin said. “You have to consider every option. Even those closest to you.”

  “He’d never—”

  “I’d never what?” Gus spoke from across the room, catching us all off guard as the door banged open against the wall. “I heard my name. I’d never what?”

  I swallowed hard. My assistant and mentor stood hunched over a cane, his white hair a bit windblown, and his blue eyes creased in something resembling amusement. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t say nothin’, I ain’t an idiot.” Gus smacked his cane against the ground. When he tired of whacking the floor, he crossed his arms and nearly knocked Poppy’s head off with the wrong end of the stick. Gus didn’t need the cane to walk—he needed it to make a racket when he was upset. The man looked like an octogenarian, but he had the strength of someone half his age, and the sassiness of someone double his age. “Go on. Be honest, now. I can tell when yer lyin’.”

  I glared at Zin. “Nothing. We were just talking about—”

  “—potions,” Poppy interrupted. “Lily is working on the Menu. We were trying to help her come up with a new drink name.”

  “I think I’ve got it,” I said with a nod. Quickly running through a list of drinks in my head, I picked the first one that came to mind. “Whiskey...er, sour. Witchy Sour!”

  Gus rolled his eyes. “I think yer’all lyin’ to me.”

  Poppy shook her head. “Lying is such a strong word.”

  “But it’s the accurate one,” Gus shot back. “You two are tryin’ to convince Lily that she’s gotta examine the one person who had access to the spellbook. The one person on The Isle who logically could’ve pulled this heist off. Am I
right?”

  An awkward silence descended on the room.

  “Not really,” I hedged. “I was just explaining the spell system to them. About how unlikely it was that someone could’ve pulled off the theft at all.”

  “They’ve got a point.” Gus tossed his cane onto the long, wooden table in the center of the room. “A darn good point.”

  We usually used the table top to chop leaves, examine ingredients, and mix up new potions, but for now, Gus ignored its purpose and used it as a cane-rack. Walking without any trace of a limp, he crossed the room with ease and stopped in front of the open safe. The girls and I glanced at one another as he examined the empty space.

  “Gus?” I asked eventually. He hadn’t moved for a few minutes, and I worried he’d taken a nap standing up. “What are you thinking?”

  Gus turned around with a wild grin on his face. “I’m thinkin’ you’ve got yourself a good set of friends, Lily. These two ain’t afraid to point blame at anyone, including myself, and I can appreciate that.”

  I slid a sideways gaze at Poppy, who shrugged back at me.

  “Takes guts,” Gus said with a laugh. “But that’s who you need around you. These ladies don’t trust anyone. I like ’em.”

  Offering a hesitant smile, I spoke cautiously. “I like them too.”

  “Good.” Gus’s amused expression vanished in an instant. “So tell them to scram because we’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 2

  Two hours later, I flexed my fingers and pushed back my chair. After hunching over a table for the last few hours, I was ready to be done working for the month, let alone the day.

  I’d been tasked with the intense process of documenting hundreds of jars from the most recent supply shipment. Gus wasn’t a patient man on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day. He worked like an assembly line, passing one bag of supplies to me before I was done with the previous five.