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

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Witchy Sour (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 2) Page 6

by Gina LaManna


  “Go,” Hettie said, directing her words to Zin. “And put some nice clothes on. You’re not a Ranger yet, and I’m still holding out hope you’ll find a man who’ll change your mind and marry you.”

  “I’m an independent woman,” Zin said. “Maybe there’s more to life than swooning at big muscles.”

  “Girl, of course there is,” Hettie said. “You start swooning, and I’m gonna have to have a talk with you. Look at me, I’m an independent woman. I worked with the Rangers and I had kids. They’re not exclusive.”

  Zin raised a finger, resting it thoughtfully on her lip. “Hang on a second, how do I know you’re not lying about working for the Rangers? Is this another test?”

  “I can prove it to you.” Hettie crossed her spindly arms. “My Ranger-ness, that is.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Let’s go,” Hettie said. “Lily was looking for Poppy anyway. Let’s go pay her a visit.”

  “Where is she?” I frowned. “I was headed to The Twist.”

  “She’s at Ranger Headquarters, of course,” Hettie said. “It’s her day to work dispatch.”

  “I’ve never been there,” I said. “Never even seen the place. Am I allowed inside?”

  “Stay behind if you want,” Hettie said. “But I’ve got some Ranger-ness to prove to my other granddaughter. C’mon, Zin.”

  I took a few jogging steps to catch up to my grandmother. “Where is it? What does this place look like? So we’re just allowed to waltz in and visit?”

  “You’re exhausting with all your questions,” Hettie said. “Isn’t your mouth tired? How does Gus do it? Just wait and see. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Will I be able to talk to a Ranger?”

  “Any Ranger?” Zin winked. “Or Mr. X?”

  My cheeks burned at her suggestive gaze. “Any Ranger. I just want to get an update on the missing spellbook. See if they have any information or leads.”

  “Oh, sure, you can talk to ’em,” Hettie said. “They have a customer service department. But first things first, I have a very important call to make.”

  Zin rolled her eyes. “Don’t do it, Hettie. It’s not funny.”

  “What’s not funny?” I asked. “What’s she going to do?”

  “Poppy works dispatch,” Zin said. “Hettie likes to prank her.”

  “I think I’ll order a pizza today,” Hettie cackled. “Let’s make a bet. Who thinks I can keep her on the phone longer than three seconds?”

  Zin took the “under” bet, so I was stuck with the “over three seconds” bet.

  Hettie pulled out a small device that looked similar to a phone, but functioned more like a walkie-talkie. The contraption didn’t have any numbers on it, just buttons and dials in a variety of colors. I hadn’t seen anything like it on The Isle. Hettie pressed the largest, reddest button. “Yes, hello, I’d like extra cheese on my pizza—”

  The line went dead almost immediately.

  “I win.” Zin grinned. “I’ll let you buy me dinner, Lily.”

  “Drat that was fast,” Hettie said. “She’s learning.”

  Hettie pressed another combination of dials. “Buzz us in, will you Poppy?”

  “This is the emergency line.” Poppy hissed. “I told you not to use it.”

  “This is an emergency,” Hettie said. “Zin needs to use the restroom.”

  Zin raised her hands in annoyance. “I can wait.”

  “And Lily needs to talk to her man,” Hettie added. “Be a darling and let us in.”

  Poppy sighed. “Don’t make a scene in here, okay? They’re still mad at me for buzzing you in the last time.”

  I looked at Hettie as Poppy disconnected. “What’d you do last time?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “She drew mustaches on the wall of photos,” Zin said. “The wall with pictures of all the head Rangers for the past fifty years.”

  “It was a joke,” Hettie mumbled. “People need to relax.”

  “A joke that didn’t wipe off,” Zin said. “You drew a handlebar moustache on the greatest Ranger of all time. And another one had a goatee.”

  “Are we here?” I looked around, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  We had passed The Twist. As the sun sank lower in the horizon, the wild jungle in front of us turned a shade of dark that sent shivers rattling through my body and increased my pulse with every step. “I thought we weren’t supposed to go into The Forest. What about that big, black building on the other side of The Isle? I thought that was where HQ would be located?”

  “That’s where they want you to think it’s located,” Hettie said. “But that’s just corporate. The only people working there are the finance folks. Rangers hold some meetings there for show, but anything top secret is taken care of here.”

  “Where is here?” We stood just on the outskirts of The Forest. “I really don’t think we should go in there. It’s getting dark.”

  “Poppy should be buzzing us in anytime now,” Hettie said. “Keep an eye out.”

  “An eye out for what?”

  “There,” Zin said, pointing. “Did you see that?”

  If Zin hadn’t alerted me, I would’ve missed it. Between two of the largest trees on the edge of the woods, a miniscule bolt of lightning shot between them. “What is that?”

  “The portal to the entrance,” Zin said. “Sort of like human elevators from what I hear. You walk through, and it takes you to a new level.”

  “That’s not at all like an elevator,” I mumbled. “I don’t see any door, and I don’t see any other ‘floors’ located around here. Can’t we just wait for Poppy to come get us?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Hettie grabbed my hand. “We only have a few seconds before it closes.”

  “Is the entrance always here?” I asked as my grandmother pulled me toward the space where a thin stream of lightning had danced just seconds ago. “How do you get in without Poppy’s help?”

  “You don’t,” Hettie said. “The entrance can be between any two trees. It’s completely random, and is rarely the same two trees. The gateway is impossible to find without an invitation.”

  “What if someone wants a meeting with a Ranger?” I asked. “How do they find one?”

  “People don’t set up meetings with Rangers,” Zin said. “Rangers come to them.”

  Hettie nodded. “She’s right.”

  “But what if someone needs help?”

  “It’s the Rangers’ job to know about it before the situation gets to that point,” Hettie said. “Now, will you stop talking a moment so I can concentrate?”

  I shut up quickly, letting Hettie grab my elbow in her bony fingers. Zin stood close by her other side, and the three of us strode toward the trees.

  A tugging sensation began deep behind my navel, and I was taken back to the moment when I’d first arrived on The Isle—transported from the mainland by a boat the size of a dingy that had carried us into massive wave. Some sort of portal like this one, except now, I knew what to expect.

  However, knowing what to expect did not prepare me for the process. My rib cage constricted and my breath vanished as I hurtled headfirst through blackness. When I came to, my feet hit firm ground, and I collapsed in a heap on the cold, tile floor.

  “Sorry about that,” Hettie was saying when I managed to open my eyes and blink away the stars. “First timer, here.”

  I blinked furiously, trying to clear away the stars as Hettie and Zin each hooked an arm through mine and hauled me to my feet.

  “C’mon now, use your legs,” Hettie said. “You look drunk. People are gonna assume we’re bringing you here to detox.”

  “What happened?” I asked, a bit dazed. “You have to warn me next time we go hurtling through a black hole.”

  “Black hole,” Hettie scoffed. “That was a tiny portal. You’ll get used to it. Until then, at least try to land on your feet. People are staring.”

  “Welcome to Ranger H
eadquarters!” A familiar, peppy voice sounded, and I turned my attention to Poppy, who was waving us in. “How ya doin’, Lily? Sorry about that. The entrance can be rather abrupt.”

  I climbed to my feet and gave her a begrudging hug. “You don’t say.”

  “I’ve been meaning to show you around the place, but Gus keeps you so dang busy counting herbs, or whatever you do locked up in your bungalow, that I haven’t gotten a chance to steal you away.”

  Zin and Hettie also greeted Poppy, and I took the opportunity to glance around the space. “Wow,” I breathed. “This is...something else.”

  “It’s comfortable.” Poppy shrugged, clearly unimpressed by the space. “You want a tour?”

  “I’d love one!”

  “Follow me, you’ll need a badge.”

  I followed Poppy to a counter that looked like the reception desk for the Ritz. Stepping through the portal between the trees had landed us in a hallway with ceilings so high I could barely see the top.

  The walls were black and shiny, the furniture a combination of dazzling metals and spotless white. Black leather couches and coffee tables formed a square in the middle of the space, giving off the feel of a modern, uber-sleek lounge. Soft music played in the background as one or two men dressed in sharp suits crisscrossed through the room, disappearing into a dark hallway.

  A woman stood behind the front desk. When she smiled, the motion was so striking I did a double take. She laughed and extended a hand. “Hello, you’re a friend of Poppy’s?”

  I nodded, trying not to stare at her features. I quickly shook her hand which felt as delicate as paper-mache.

  With hair as white as a star and eyes as blue as sea glass, I doubted she was human. The creature wore a tight black dress that fell midway to her thigh, covered by a gauzy shawl over thin arms. At least three inches taller than me, she had the height of a supermodel and the fashion wardrobe of a CEO. Stunning was not a strong enough word to describe her beauty. Ethereal, maybe.

  “No problem,” she said with a wink, her laugh sounding light and airy. “Let me print up a pass for you.”

  “Do you need my name? Information?” I tried to peek over the counter, but there were no computers anywhere in sight. No machinery, gadgets, or technology of any sorts. “I’m—”

  “I know who you are,” she said. “You’re the new Mixologist.”

  “You’re famous.” Poppy elbowed me. “This is Elle. She’s the secretary here, but don’t let the job title fool you. She runs this place.”

  Elle shook her head. “I’ve just been here a long time. Knowledge seeps in over the years, you know.”

  “Surely you haven’t been here more than five or ten years,” I said. “You’re not old enough.”

  Both Elle and Poppy broke out in a laugh. “Try five hundred years,” Poppy said. “Elle is Fae. Here on The Isle, Fae live long lives. She never forgets anything, either, which can be a real bummer for people who try to cross her. Someone stole her lunch three hundred years ago, and the poor witch still doesn’t have a parking spot for her broomstick.”

  “It’s a blessing and a curse,” Elle said with a grin. “Here you are, Lily. Just put your wrist out.”

  I extended my wrist, shooting a curious glance at Poppy.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Poppy explained. “Relax.”

  Elle took my wrist in her long, delicate fingers and held it so that my palm faced up. She pressed her thumb onto my forearm for a long second.

  “You have a beautiful manicure,” I said, trying to ease the awkwardness as Elle continued to press down on my arm with a cool touch. “I like that color.”

  Elle gave a half smile and glanced at her glittering silver nails. “Thanks, I’ll give you the name of the witch who does it. Really skilled.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. Running out of things to talk about, I gazed around the room some more until Elle’s fingers heated against my skin. “What’s happening?”

  “We don’t use those human badges,” Poppy said. “Not needed. My mom told me about those plastic cards. We use a much simpler and foolproof method here. A Fae’s touch leaves a dusting of magic on your skin. It’ll allow you access to all of the places you need to go, no more and no less. It wears off in about an hour, so we should get moving.”

  “It was great to meet you, Lily,” the beautiful creature said. “I’ve been meaning to stop by Magic & Mixology, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “I imagine they keep you busy down here.” I couldn’t help but return her smile. Somehow, even her intense beauty couldn’t offset her genuinely pleasant personality. That a person so gorgeous could also be so kind, however, made me wonder if there was hope for the rest of us on this island.

  “That they do, but I enjoy it.” Elle grinned. “Never a dull moment here.”

  Poppy took my arm, whistled for our cousin and Hettie to follow. They didn’t seem to hear.

  “What are they doing?” she muttered. “I can’t take them anywhere.”

  A few more stern whistles got their attention, and soon Hettie and Zin had marks on their arms courtesy of Elle. We set off down one of the long, dark hallways, the only light to guide us stemming from tiny, star-like dots along the wall. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

  “It feels like we’re on the Milky Way,” I whispered. For some reason, the eerie quiet seemed sacred.

  Poppy’s laugh echoed off the walls. “We’re so far from space that you’re more likely to see the center of the earth than the moon. We’re underground. Deep underground.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “On and off since I turned eighteen,” Poppy said. “I still split my time working dispatch and the supply store. We have a few other girls on dispatch rotation, so it’s a pretty flexible schedule. Good benefits, and all of those ‘adult’ things, you know.”

  “I’d have never guessed,” I said, my eyes still drawn to the dark, mysterious walls. “Benefits. That’s funny for some reason.”

  Poppy raised an eyebrow. “Vamp Vites aren’t cheap, ya know. How are those coming along, anyway?”

  “I’m missing one ingredient,” I said with a sigh.

  When I first arrived on the island and learned about Poppy’s blood-intolerance issue, she’d explained that our grandfather, who was the Mixologist at the time she was born, had concocted a beverage that provided all the nutrients a normal vampire might need.

  “I can’t figure out where he ordered Dust of the Devil. There are no stores on The Isle that carry it. I’ve checked them all. I even asked Harpin.”

  “How is that possible? Where else could he get it from?” Poppy led the way out of the tunnel, showing us into a hallway that was all reflective gray. Metallic walls below, above, and to our sides. “He was getting it from somewhere.”

  “I know,” I said. “But Gus has no clue, which in itself is quite strange. Normally Gus does all of the ingredient orders. He catalogues them and puts them away, but he told me he’s never been asked to restock Dust of the Devil. Our grandfather and Neil were the only Mixologists to make this potion, right? Did they ever say anything to you—a hint or a clue or something?”

  Poppy shook her head. “If they did, I wasn’t listening. Mostly, I just wanted the potion to work. It’s not fun if it starts to wear off. The cravings get pretty bad, pretty quick.”

  “It’s not fun for any of us,” Hettie said, waving a hand in front of her face to signal a noxious smell. “We’re forced to feed her raw meats, and that doesn’t sit well with her stomach if you catch my...drift.”

  Zin snorted. “Clever.”

  “Funny! You guys are really funny,” Poppy said sarcastically. “You try to live without half of the nutrients you need and tell me how that sits with your stomach.”

  “It’s more like you ate a vat of broccoli, topped it off with a bit of asparagus, and then devoured a bathtub full of beans,” Hettie said. “I mean really, it’s impressive. That could be your Uniqueness if you wanted t
o be a Ranger.”

  Poppy’s face reddened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I interrupted first.

  “I’ll find it, don’t worry,” I told Poppy. “I’ve talked to Gus in depth about it, and we’re on the lookout. He’s asking all of his suppliers for advice.”

  Poppy sighed. “I appreciate it.”

  We reached the end of the hallway made of metal, which was a good thing because I was getting so dizzy I couldn’t tell which way was left or right, up or down, but I could say for a fact that the contents of my stomach were about to come up.

  “This is the lab,” Poppy said, pointing off to one side. “Lily, I thought you’d like this in particular.”

  The metal had melded into a series of hallways made from clear glass. Sort of like a carnival fun house. Without Poppy, I would’ve knocked myself unconscious by waltzing straight into a solid, see-through panel. Thanks to her slow, guiding steps, however, we made it to the lab in one piece.

  A glass wall surrounded the lab, and I stood as close as possible without smudging it. Inside, men dressed in sharp suits covered by white coats moved with purpose from one station to the next.

  Small flames licked the top of one table, while another table held a container the size of a small whale filled with teensy glowing fish. Above the fire sat a series of eight vials, each of them different sizes and shapes. Some were tall, some were short, some were green, and some were gold. All of them sparkled as liquid bubbled and brewed inside.

  “What are they making?” I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Poppy.

  “I have no clue,” Poppy said. “It’s way over my head. I can try to get you a pass sometime though, if you’d like. It’s not unheard of to bring guests into the lab, and I bet they’d be happy to have you.”

  I made a face. “I bet not. I’d just get in their way.”

  “Wrong.” Poppy’s grin brightened her face. “Lily, don’t forget. You are the Mixologist. You can ask people to do things for you. A lot of folks would bend over backwards for the chance to share their work with you. This island has been waiting for the next true Mixologist for a while. We’re really happy you’re here.”

 

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