by Gina LaManna
“What’s normal?”
“You! Us. This moment.” I let my fingers trail over the solid line of abs visible above the startlingly white comforter. “You let me sleep in, you’re reading the paper in bed, sipping coffee...it’s like any old Saturday morning.”
It still hadn’t clicked with him, and he shook his head. “And?”
“We could be normal humans,” I said with a wry smile. “Just a pair of non-paranormals, with no more care in the world than a long commute.”
Ranger X’s face finally relaxed into a smile, his arm coming to pull me closer to him. “Then let’s let this moment last for a while longer.”
I reached over and stole a sip of his coffee. “How’d you get out of work this morning? And Gus—where did you send him?”
“Gus got a surprise shipment of materials,” Ranger X said, a smile tugging at his lips. “As for Ranger HQ—I’ve clocked seventy out of the last seventy-eight hours on the job. I mentioned to Poppy I might be late this morning. She cleared me until noon.”
“But Magic & Mixology...” I said, a frown pulling my smile back down. “It’ll be filled with people waiting in line—angry customers who want to kill me for being late.”
“The store opens today at noon,” Ranger X said. “Hours are changed due to a new shipment of supplies.”
I blinked, feeling like a child given a balloon and a stick of cotton candy. “You’re telling me I don’t have to go anywhere?”
“We have a few hours,” he said with a crook of an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”
That’s all the information I needed to hear before Ranger X’s coffee mug crashed to the floor, and he pulled me back under the covers with a delicious smirk.
By the time we got around to cleaning up the spilled coffee, I was positively buzzing from happiness. The bliss would surely come to an end in the next half hour once the store opened, but until then, I’d cherish the quiet comfort of our moments together.
As I magically mopped up the spell and pieced together the shattered mug, I heard X’s movements in the shower. The spray of water turning on, the soft, almost indiscernible humming coming from behind the door that signaled a rare great mood from Ranger X.
I smiled, picking up the paper he’d been reading, and settled into bed to wait for him with a fresh cup of coffee from downstairs. I flipped past the first page to a gossip column near the back. Ranger X hadn’t ventured this far along, judging by the unwrinkled sheets. Once there, I came face to face with a headline that nearly stopped my heart.
ARE RANGERS BEHIND THESE CRIMES?!
A list of recent crimes followed, from the tomato stealing to the bridge of bubbles to the newly minted disappearance of Forgotten Ferns. Beneath it all was a theory that the culprit was one of our very own.
If the Rangers can’t protect us, then who can?
Lily Locke, island Mixologist, is quoted saying she’s refusing to sell protective charms.
“I did not say that!” I shrieked. “I said nothing like that!”
Is she in on it, too? She has been rumored to be in talks of marriage with her current squeeze, the Head Ranger known to the world as X.
“Did you say something?” Ranger X called from the bathroom. “Lily, is everything okay?”
I stayed still for a moment, the coffee cup perched halfway to my lips as I reread the article a few more times. It went on and on, a dithering mess of theories based on anything but logic. Finally, after Ranger X called my name a few times, I was startled into action by the water shutting off.
Leaping from bed, fueled by adrenaline, I slammed my coffee cup onto the bedside table and tore into the bathroom.
I pushed the paper into X’s face, past the shower curtain to where he stood sopping wet. It was a testament to my shock and outrage that I barely took a moment to appreciate the sight of him naked.
“Did you see this?” I demanded. “What is wrong with people?”
Ranger X’s eyes darkened as he scanned the article. “I hadn’t gotten past the first page this morning before you...” He coughed. “Before I was distracted.”
“I did not say anything of the sort!” I exclaimed again, jabbing my finger against the newspaper. Angry black splotches appeared beneath my touch. “I also didn’t comment to any reporter, so whoever wrote this was reaching out on a limb. Maybe they talked to my customers—people who came to me in confidence.”
Ranger X pulled the shower curtain back and reached for a towel. It gave me half a second’s pause before the shuddering anger returned and my fist balled again.
He wrapped the towel tight around his waist. Then, hands finally free, he took the paper from me and fully read the article. I watched him, watched his eyes fluctuate from intrigued to angry to curious. When he finished, I watched for his reaction.
“Squeeze?” he asked finally. “I’m your squeeze?”
“That’s all you took from the article?”
He shook his head slowly. “The allegations that a Ranger is involved in these crimes are serious.”
“Of course it’s not true.” When X didn’t respond immediately, I looked at him in surprise. “It’s not true, right?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“But—”
“But I never make any assumptions.” He let a heavy sigh escape. “I’m looking into it. Internal Affairs is never a happy business.”
“Do you need any help?”
He looked weary now, and sad. “No, it’s my responsibility. The glory and the dirty work.”
“You don’t seem like you get a whole lot of glory.” I reached out, forcing my own frustrations away. They were mild compared to what X had to face. “I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to make it go away.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “We had twenty minutes left on the clock, but I’m going to have to cut our time short.”
“Of course.” I followed him to the bedroom; the scent of him fresh from the shower lifted my mood just a bit.
He dressed quickly and efficiently, pausing only for a wink when he caught me staring. “Lily,” he said, once he’d slipped into a clean suit he’d previously stashed in my closet. “You asked what you could do to help.”
“Yes?” I watched as X forfeited the top button of his shirt and worked to roll his sleeves. I went over to help, gently adjusting the stark white fabric so the folds rested nicely against his arms. “Whatever you need.”
“In light of the article, I’m going to move the press conference up to tomorrow morning. Will you still be there?”
“Of course. Is there anything you need me to say?”
“We’ll discuss it in the morning. Most importantly, I’d just like you by my side.”
I fell against X’s chest as he pulled me into a ferocious hug, one that stole my breath and nearly cracked a rib. When he finished, I stepped back and offered a smile. “You’re some squeeze.”
He cracked a smile, laughed. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
I walked him out the front door, grateful we’d fallen back into sync. Drifting along without him had tilted my life out of orbit. It was a lonely road to travel alone.
As the noon hour rolled around, footsteps inevitably approached. Gus came first through the door, his entrance followed shortly after by the low chatter of guests filtering into line outside at the bar.
Gus’s way of greeting me was to drop a huge duffle bag full of supplies onto the table. Then he clomped over to the potions still hovering mid-air and sniffed around. “The Long Isle potion is just about ready,” he announced. “You could’ve taken the Security Sampler off this morning if you’d wanted.”
“I was busy.”
Gus stiffened, narrowed his eyes at me. When I didn’t offer more information, he turned back to the potions and began adjusting the flame levels.
“Do you want to start bottling and handle the pickups?” I asked, switching to business mode. “I’ll get starte
d on the new orders.”
Gus reached into the duffle and withdrew a carton of beakers. “We’ve got to be running out of islanders to help, don’t we? You’ve served just about everyone I’ve ever met.”
Apparently, there was no shortage of folks looking for an additional layer of protection. Especially with the new article breaking this morning, the line today was longer than ever. However, instead of the chattering mess of people I’d grown used to, this group was silent.
I caught wind of hushed whispers, of people comparing their potions with one another as they retreated from line. It wasn’t until I overheard my name whispered in conjunction with X’s that I realized the truth: these people no longer trusted me—likely due to my affiliation with Ranger X. The accusations against him, against his program, had rocked the island to its core.
The next few hours flew by as I helped one customer after the next. It wasn’t until the Closed sign miraculously appeared that the flow of customers began to slow.
“We kept up with all the orders,” Gus said proudly as I retreated inside. “Not a single backorder for tomorrow.”
“Nice work.” I meant the compliment sincerely, but it was difficult to muster up excitement. “How’s the Long Isle potion coming along?”
“Nearly there. Should be ready in an hour. I’ll stick around to finish her up.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I slumped at the table, pulling the plate of food Gus had prepared toward me. I offered a grateful moan of delight as I sunk into the sandwich. “Thanks for your help.”
“What’s got you down? You seemed all skippy this morning.”
“What have I ever done to break the trust of our people?”
“Excuse me?”
“The guideline is posted right there on the wall. Do Good. Have I ever acted in a way that would make people think I’m not?”
“Why are you asking?”
“You saw the article this morning. Islanders are turning against one another. People believe that Rangers could commit these random crimes. Apparently even the fact that I’m dating one makes me part of the problem.”
“Who said that?”
“They didn’t need to say it directly to me. I could hear it and see it on their faces. People were comparing their potions as they left as if, I don’t know, I’d tricked them or something.”
“They’re fools, Lily. Pay them no mind.” Gus rolled up his sleeves as he sat across from me. “I think we should close the shop for a few days. They don’t get to have it both ways. They can’t doubt you and expect you to care for them all at once.”
“No. That won’t help anything. We can’t give them a reason to lose faith in us. That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”
“These people need their eyes opened. They don’t know half the things you or the Rangers do to ensure safe daily life on this island. They take it for granted.”
“No.” I stood, my voice firm. “We can’t react out of fear or anger. I was just venting. It seems lately like every little thing on this island is tearing us all apart.”
“Wouldn’t they like that,” Gus growled. “We’re doing their jobs for them.”
“Who?”
“The Faction,” he spit out. “They’d just love it if we took ourselves down from the inside.”
I paused, the sandwich halfway to my mouth. “Do you think this is all part of their plan?”
“How do you figure?
I set the sandwich down and stood, pacing as I thought. “What if somehow, The Faction has planted someone here who’s doing all these things, wreaking havoc on the island. It’s working, isn’t it?”
Gus raised a hand to his chin and scratched it, pondering. “We haven’t had many visitors to the island lately. If it’s someone from The Faction, it’s a local.”
“Any ideas?”
“I’m not convinced this is The Faction’s work. It’s too odd, too illogical. If The Faction had a presence here, they’d be after you, or the Rangers, or something bigger.”
“Something bigger...” I looked up, hesitant. “Gus, why didn’t you tell me that Empath magic doesn’t exist?”
“Who says it doesn’t exist?”
“Ranger X.” I watched his reaction, but there wasn’t an ounce of surprise there. “You knew I’d figure it out.”
“It’s well known that Empath magic is a myth.”
“Then why’d you get my hopes up with all that talk about the Kissing Curses?”
Gus straightened. “Because I know differently.”
“How? Have you seen it performed before?”
“Well, of course not. Then Empath magic would’ve graduated from myth to fact. No, Lily, I know different because I know you.” Gus stopped talking and followed my pacing with his eyes before he continued. “Myths are only that until they’re proven.”
“If none of the Mixologists have proven Empath magic, what makes you think I can do it?”
“That’s it!” Gus’s eyes shone. “Because you’re the part that’s different, Lily. You’re stronger than the rest of your predecessors in many ways. I don’t know how, I don’t know why exactly, although I do have a suspicion.”
“What’s that suspicion?”
To my surprise, Gus raised his hands in surrender. “If I tell you, then you have to promise not to kill me.”
“That’s an odd request.”
“You’ll understand in a second.” Gus lowered his hands, then steepled his fingers together and looked uneasy as he continued. “I think it’s because you’re a woman.”
“Er...” I hesitated. Gus’s statement had shocked a retort right out of me. “Sorry, but what?”
“Empath magic is rumored to have been discovered, created, however you want to say it, by the female gods of ancient times. This type of magic delves deep into thoughts, feelings, intuitions...” Gus paused. “Something men don’t always excel at understanding.”
“Now you’re making sense. Do go on.”
“We’ve never had a female Mixologist before.” Gus rose, stretched, and took a stance in his proud old body. “I’m pleased to serve as your assistant, Lily. It’s my belief that you possess skills stronger—different—than anyone I’ve assisted or studied. What was impossible for others, may not be so impossible for you.”
His little speech made me uncomfortable, so I gestured for him to get on with it.
“You must study the text.” Gus shoved the ancient manuscript into my hands. “Read it. Soak in the knowledge and the hints. Then, throw the damn thing away.”
I looked up in alarm. “Throw it away?”
“Not literally,” he growled. “I want it back. It’s a figure of speech. All I mean is you have to learn and understand, and then throw that knowledge away to the far recesses of your mind. Let your intuition take over. Break the rules. You won’t uncover a new form of magic by following instructions. There are no instructions to be found.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lily, this is truly the first opportunity you’ve had to create your own magic.”
“But Long Isle Iced Tea, Jinx and Tonic, Witchy Sour and Hex...”
“Those are all brilliant little Mixes,” Gus admitted. “But it’s nothing like rousting magic that’s been buried for centuries—possibly untapped forever.”
I stepped back, still reeling from the news. My heart pounded at the sudden pressure of what Gus was asking of me, and my head swung back and forth in denial. “No, you’re wrong.”
“I can’t help you much on this, aside from the slicing and dicing. Give me instructions that I can follow, and I’ll be there for you. But that is where my skills end.”
Because I needed something to do, I plunked back onto my seat and polished off the last of my sandwich. As I chewed, I thought. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Think about it.” Gus glanced at the Long Isle Iced Tea brewing on the counter. “I’m going to get back to work and finish—”
“I’ll handl
e it. Take the night off and spend some time with Mimsey. I’ll see you in the morning. Actually—” I held up a finger. “I won’t be here in the morning. I’ll be with Ranger X at the press conference.”
“Why does he need you there?”
“To show a united front.”
Gus’s eyebrow crept upward. “Really?”
I tried not to look miffed. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”
“I’m just not sure the two of you seem united on this front at all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stepped closer to him, blocking his path to the door. “Why don’t we seem united?”
“Forget I said anything,” Gus said. “I’m not getting mixed up in your personal life. Goodnight, Lily.”
Gus moved past me, ducking into the darkness as I watched him leave. I stood in the doorway long after he’d disappeared, wondering what he could’ve meant. Had something happened? Just this morning X and I had seemed back on the same page. My fears over a crumbling relationship had been quelled, and I’d found a bounce back in my step.
I hoped it was nothing. I prayed it was Gus’s paranoia and nothing more, but somehow, I knew I’d have my answers soon enough. In the meantime, I couldn’t focus on the what-if’s or the hypotheticals. I had potions to finish and new magic to uncover.
My night was just beginning.
Chapter 7
TWO HOURS LATER, THE Long Isle Iced Tea glittered a pretty pink in its final beaker. I capped it, but not before inhaling the sweet smell with a smile. In a way, this drink had been created for Poppy, and it had a bit of her personality in its very essence: bright, bubbly, and sweet. Long Isle Iced Tea might stand for many things now, but it would never have existed without Poppy’s influence.
As I capped the beaker and moved to set it down, something tugged against me. I frowned, feeling uneasy as I lifted the beaker back to eye level. As I did so, I realized my mother’s necklace had begun to glow. The closer the potion came to my body, the brighter the necklace shone. By the time I pulled the beaker to my chest, the charm was so hot it burned against my skin.
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.
