by Gina LaManna
“Good—I could use some quiet time.”
“We’ll meet at lunch?” I folded the paper and tucked it under my arm. “Call me on my Comm if you discover something.”
Gus nodded, already bent over the bottled storm cloud. “Don’t get sucked into that Peter nonsense.”
“What?” I turned, already at the doorway. “I’m not sucked in. I’m just investigating what might be a genuine concern.”
“I heard that gnome talking to you yesterday. Now it’s this Peter character. I’m afraid people aren’t understanding that your job is to be the Mixologist, Miss Lily. It’s not your duty to solve every little issue on this island.”
“My job is to help. To Do Good.”
“Your job is here. In this very room. You understand magic in a way nobody else does. Rangers can run down missing persons and check out haunted houses.” In a moment of surprising clarity, Gus met my eyes. “Don’t get yourself mixed up in dangerous situations that can be avoided. I know you want to save the world, Lily, but the sad truth is that you can’t save everyone.”
I swallowed, the nugget of truth difficult to digest.
“You and me working together, cracking the code to this…this black magic,” Gus said, tapping the vial with a finger. “Now that is how you can save a city. When you can save a city, you don’t have time to be saving a gnome.”
“No, that’s not—”
“Just think about what I said. It’s your choice, but when you asked me to be your assistant, I earned the right to give you my opinion.”
Forcing a nod, I pulled the door closed behind me. The walk to Ranger X’s cabin was more somber than usual. My heart felt heavy this morning, though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what bothered me the most.
Clearly, Gus had meant what he’d said in a rare moment of concern, his protective instincts floating near the surface. Even so, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he was wrong. My job was to help people.
But how could I possibly know who needed helping the most?
Chapter 9
RANGER X’S DOOR WAS locked when I arrived. With a cheeky smile, I withdrew the new key from my pocket and fitted it into the keyhole. I hesitated for a moment, debating knocking first, and then decided against it.
After all, he’d told me surprises were welcome.
He should be home, and I could use a fun surprise. Unless he was on a case, X didn’t often get to work this early. The sun had just begun to shed its warmth on the world, the pink hues slowly fading to orange and yellow above a bright blue sky.
As the door slid open, I peered toward the bed, hoping to find him there—to surprise him with a kiss and slide in next to him. A bit of body warmth would go a long way this morning.
One step into his home, however, told me that wouldn’t be happening.
The shower sounded from the bathroom, and I blew out a sigh of frustration. I should’ve guessed he’d already be awake. The smell of freshly ground coffee pulled me in further, and I closed the door behind me and took a seat at the table.
X’s paper lay open, already rifled through. I poured myself another cup of coffee, returned to my seat, and perused the story once more. The title above Peter’s name rang through the space as the threat of another missing person weighed on my mind.
I sipped my coffee and read about Manuel Artina, a young wizard who’d recently become engaged to a fellow island witch named Sophie. According to the article, the two had been dating for over a year and were madly in love. Their wedding date was in three months, and both were reported by family and friends to have been thrilled.
My heart broke at the picture of Sophie and Manuel. The two were wrapped in a loving embrace, Sophie watching her fiancé through big, wide eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck. They looked like two young adults without a care in the world.
The photo had been taken two days ago.
One day before Manuel disappeared.
The official story was that he’d run away, gotten cold feet before the wedding, which could possibly be true. A theory I might’ve believed had it not been for the image attached to the article. The pair was without a doubt in love.
Or, they were very good actors, I thought, standing to top off my mug of coffee. The love in Manuel’s eyes, and Sophie’s mirrored feelings, seemed impossible to fake. If anything, it reminded me of the way X looked at me when we were alone.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I hadn’t heard the shower turn off, nor had I heard the door open, nor had I heard Ranger X leap toward me.
The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air with a set of large muscled arms wrapped around my body. As I squealed in shock, X stumbled in recognition. We hit the bed with an oomph, the wind knocked out of me as Ranger X fell on top, pinning me to the mattress.
I wheezed for breath as X regained his composure.
“Lily! What the hell were you thinking?” He moved quickly, releasing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. The fear left his eyes, replaced immediately by remorse. “I’m so sorry, I heard a noise in the kitchen and thought it was an intruder. I didn’t have time to look before I pounced, and…”
I raised a finger, still sucking in air in a very unladylike manner.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, running his hand over my head. “How did you get inside?” He closed his eyes as the realization of my key-holding status returned to him. “I’m so sorry—I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted. Did I hurt you? I’ll call—”
“I know,” I said, interrupting as I let my hands fall on his shoulders. I gave a few squeezes until he leaned against me. “Relax, I’m fine. I’m just not used to being tackled into bed from across the room.”
A painful grimace spread on X’s face. “I’m so sorry—”
“Give me a kiss, please.”
“Lily, I’m not in the mood. I almost took the wind out of you. I tackled my own girlfriend, and—”
“—and you’re not very good at making up for it. It’s my fault, too. I probably shouldn’t have surprised you for the first time so early in the morning. Forget it.”
Ranger X turned to me, his eyes filled with remorse as he took my face between his palms. “I would never hurt you. I’m sorry. You’re always welcome here. I’ll be better.”
“You’ve been alone in here for a long time. It’s natural for you to be on guard. I’d be worried if you weren’t. But there is a bright side to all this!”
“What’s that?”
“I hoped I’d find you in bed.” I winked at him, then inched closer so my lips hovered just over his. My arms snaked around his neck as I dragged him next to me on the bed, his body warm against mine as he finally began to relax. His hands traced up my sides, trickled over my back, and held me to him as he gently returned my kiss.
“There,” I said, finally breaking the kiss after a few minutes. “Are you convinced I’m fine?”
A pained look crossed his face, this time for an entirely different reason. “I wish I didn’t have to get to work.”
“You’re too honorable to forego your duties,” I teased. “But today, I’ll let your honor slide because I have work, too, believe it or not. And I came here to ask you a question.”
“What is it?”
I sighed, remembering Manuel’s face in the image. “The newspaper—did you read it?”
“You’re worried about the disappearances.”
“I talked to Peter yesterday.”
“Peter?”
“The reporter who wrote the article.”
Ranger X frowned. “Any particular reason why you spoke with him?”
I dove into the particularly long and somewhat cringe-worthy story of my day after we parted ways yesterday morning. I left out the confidential information from MAGIC, Inc., and some of the embarrassing bits about baking flour, but I left the rest of the details intact.
I had also, thus far, avoided the fact that my father might be the head of The Faction and somehow conne
cted to everything happening on The Isle. I dreaded telling X, but knew it was becoming more urgent that I filled him in on it.
“The public seems convinced Peter is crazy, but I don’t know,” I said. “When we walked through The Twist, he was talking to me, and it felt like he meant what he was saying—that it wasn’t just some publicity grab. He’s genuinely convinced something’s happening with the disappearances, and I—”
“So am I.”
“—think it might be worth looking into…wait, what?”
X gave a gentle laugh, then reached for my hand and gathered it in his. He traced soft lines along the outer edges of my fingers, the movements so hypnotic I lost my train of thought.
“We’ve been looking into it.”
“Who is we?” I asked. “And what have we been looking into?”
“The Rangers. We’ve been following the disappearances closely and keeping an eye on them.”
“And?”
“And I have a theory.”
“Wait a minute.” I held up a finger from my free hand and rested it against my forehead. Blinking for a long minute, I let the pieces settle into place before speaking. “You’re saying that Peter might be right this time? These aren’t coincidences?”
“It’s always a possibility.”
“Right. But his last two predictions have been completely off-base. Gus seems to think he’s looney tunes.”
“Well, his last two stories were wrong. Although, we did ask that Glinda’s fairies run their drills by us first in the future, so as not to upset anyone.”
“How do you know this time around is different?”
“Because of the evidence we’ve found. We take every complaint seriously—yes, even Peter’s. We look at the facts, assess, and go from there. This time, we have reason to believe the disappearances might be linked.”
My eyes felt like saucers. “But he said you guys weren’t looking into it.”
“He assumed we ignored him.” He hesitated. “Peter’s a reporter. He gossips—that’s his job.”
“I think his job is to report—”
“If I gave wind to Peter that we thought he was right,” Ranger X said, straining for patience, “he’d have a field day with it. He’d be begging for quotes, photos, confirmation. We’re keeping our investigation private.”
“The newest story—Manuel and Sophie.” I nodded toward the paper still spread on the table. “What do you think?”
“Word came in during the night about Manuel being gone, and—”
“Wait a second…” I ran a hand over the bed, the covers still unrumpled, as everything clicked into place. “You haven’t slept yet.”
“No. I came home to shower and return to the office.”
“Why is this happening?” I shook my head. “Three people going missing from The Isle is somewhat alarming. People don’t leave here.”
“Have you ever heard of the SINGLES program?”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Sounds like some sort of dating thing.”
He barked a laugh. “No. Then again, I suppose there’s a form of matchmaking happening. It involves The Faction. A program that has been around for many years—longer than I’ve been alive.”
“I don’t understand. How haven’t I heard about it?”
“It only resurfaces during specific times. We haven’t been concerned about it for a while, though Ranger HQ always keeps an ear to the ground for word of it happening.”
“What specific times?”
“The SINGLES program is for those who have no attachments. Orphans, children or young adults who have little or no family support at home. Those with bad luck, tough lives, the works. Some might call them high risk. Besides the children, there are the adults who are struggling, looking for a place to belong.”
“Do they…apply to this program?”
“No. The Faction calls it recruiting. We call it kidnapping.”
“They take kids from their homes?”
“The Faction targets those who they believe nobody will miss.” Ranger X’s eyes shifted to stare through the window, his voice quieting. “I don’t know for sure what happens once they recruit them. All I know is that most of them never come back.”
“Why would they do this?”
“They’re building their ranks. An army, if you will.”
“With children?!”
“And adults—and you must remember, this program has been around for a long time. Those children will become adults.”
“They don’t try to escape?”
“I’m sure they do…at first. But I imagine the leaders of this program are very smart and skilled at what they do. Perhaps there’s magic involved, or perhaps the leaders manage to convince their recruits that their new family is The Faction.”
“But—”
“The Faction promises to care for them, to feed them, to include them as one of their own. You must understand, Lily, that for someone who has no place to go, those are magic words.”
“And you think The Faction is behind it? You’re positive these disappearances are related to the SINGLES program?”
“Almost without question.” He waited a beat, watching my face. “Yes, that would mean they’re building an army, which doesn’t surprise me. We’ve seen the signs arriving.”
“I have to tell you something.” My fingers twisted, rolled over one another in my lap. “It’s about my family. And The Faction.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The night of Zin’s Ranger ceremony, I learned some new information about my past.”
“Who came to you?”
I debated keeping Trinket’s name to myself, but eventually decided against it. “Zin’s mother. She had enough evidence that it convinced me to listen.”
“Evidence about what?”
The words began to pour out, my voice shaking as I recounted Trinket’s story. I told him about how my mother and father had met on The Isle, but my father had left for school. Once my mother had found out she was pregnant with me, she’d followed him to share the good news.
Except when she’d arrived at his dorm room, she’d found it gone. Burned to the ground. My father was dead…or so everyone suspected.
Sometime later, my mother had figured out that all was not as it seemed—instead of perishing in the fire, my father had lived. He had been recruited to The Faction and groomed to be their leader. A ghost—that’s what they called him. It was one of the reasons The Faction was so difficult to pin down. Their leader had been dead, supposedly, for years.
“The calla lily,” I said, finishing up. “The one that blooms in the storeroom—I think it’s linked to him. A warning of some sort. It’s been going off like mad.”
“Why do you suspect this man has business with you?”
I digested the question for a second. “Because he’s my father.”
“Lily—stop, don’t cry.” Ranger X’s face twisted in dismay as a tear slid down my cheek. He leaned in, wiping it from my face. “I’m sorry. What did I say?”
“Nothing. You didn’t say anything wrong.” I sat stiffly, unable to let my head collapse against his chest though I desperately needed the support. “It’s just a stupid tear.”
“You know that your father being involved in The Faction—allegedly—doesn’t change anything. The way I feel about you, the way anyone feels about you. A man you’ve never met can’t hardly call himself your father.”
“His blood runs through me.” I flipped my arm, exposing the blue veins. “If he can be recruited, how do we know that I’m not next?”
“No, absolutely do not think that. He made a choice.”
“And maybe—”
“Lily.” X’s voice was firm, solid. Demanding attention. Pressing my head to his chest, he waited until I relaxed against him. “We are all responsible for our own choices. We are all capable of bad choices. But we are also capable of greatness. You are capable of greatness, and you’ve already proven it.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to believe him with every beat of my heart.
“Whoever your father may or may not be is irrelevant to the good you’ve done.”
“The vial,” I said, changing the subject. “I think it’s linked to the calla lily, which might link to The Faction. I need to find a way to reverse that spell.”
“But you can’t tell me why?”
My eyes flashed up at him. “I’m sorry, but the details are confidential.”
“Who knows about all of this?”
“Gus knows pretty much everything. Trinket knows about my father. I figured the rest of The Core should know, but I was waiting for the right time to share. I wanted to tell you first.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I think you’re right. We’ll all need to be as educated as possible if we stand a chance against The Faction.”
I sighed, not looking forward to calling a meeting with Harpin. “I should gather them today. With Jonathon, Drew, and Manuel gone, we don’t have time to waste.”
Ranger X stood first, silently agreeing. “Do you want me to be there when you tell them?”
X had recently been invited to join The Core, but he’d turned it down due to his position at Ranger HQ. Instead, he’d offered to help when needed as a consultant.
“I would appreciate it,” I admitted. “Let’s meet outside The Twist at ten this morning. I’ll notify the others.”
“Lily, there’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
As we prepared to leave his home for the day, Ranger X strode up behind me. “Remember what I said. No matter what anyone tells you. Me, Harpin, Trinket—you are a wonderful Mixologist. A brilliant person. And, more important than anything else, you make me the happiest man alive.”
Chapter 10
“WHO ARE WE WAITING on?” Hettie asked, puttering around in her treehouse. She had a teapot bubbling over a small flame and a tray of crackers set out on a sawed-off stump. “I thought I heard Gus—”
“I’m right here,” Gus said, pulling himself up the ladder to the treehouse. “I’m getting too old for this monkey business.”
“Well, that’s sad.” Hettie put a hand on her hip. “You’re dating my daughter, which makes me feel really old. You know, since I’m her mother.”
