Amuletto Kiss

by Gina LaManna

  “I’ll keep you safe!” Andy called valiantly as the fire alarm continued to blare. “Let me bring you to safety, my princess.”

  “Sure, just one second,” I said, reaching toward him with an apologetic smile as I snatched the rest of the pages from his grasp. Then I turned away from Andy and yanked open the door, slipping into the hallway as other cops did the same. In seconds, the hallways were swarmed and minor chaos had gone into effect.

  It was just the break I needed. I hightailed it in the opposite direction of the real Diane, pausing behind a water fountain to watch the pair’s reunion. Andy went straight for a kiss that had me cringing, relieved I’d missed out on that attack. Diane looked surprised but not displeased, and it was then that I knew I hadn’t ruined anything.

  “Thank you, Andy Dinker,” I muttered, tucking the files into my bookbag.

  My work here was done. I left the hugging pair and concentrated on navigating my way from the building. I moved quickly. The slightest tingle of the Long Isle Iced Tea wearing off had hit, and I needed to get to the bathroom before I morphed mid-hallway and created a statewide disaster.

  I wound through the hallways, some less populated than others. The first few times I felt a pair of eyes land on my back, I assumed it was because I was one of the few women around. But the third and fourth time it happened, I grew suspicious.

  As I rounded one particularly sharp corner, I glanced back at the last possible second and caught sight of a man whose eyes were fixed intently on my figure. He looked shiny: shiny blond hair, shiny badge, shiny shoes—all of it too shiny.

  I tucked my backpack tighter to me and barreled toward the bathroom. I took a few detours, mostly by accident, as I couldn’t remember where each hallway led. Once, my pursuer swung particularly close to me on a turn, and his hand reached out, his lips pouted in thought.

  The motion set off alarm bells clanging in my head. I murmured a quick protective spell that crackled around my body. The humans wouldn’t be able to see or feel the protective spell, but it might help ward off an attack. If nothing else, it would make it more difficult for the man to follow me.

  I moved quicker through the corridors, focused on getting to the door. I wracked my memory, wondering if there was a window in the bathroom. That wouldn’t be a half-bad escape route, and I hoped it would be enough.

  As I hurried along, the ends of my hair began to change color and the blues of my clothes faded at a rapid rate. Turning a corner, I broke into a jog. I glanced behind me, relieved my shadow hadn’t kept pace. The restroom was close, mere yards away.

  I could feel the features of my face twisting from Diane’s back into my own. The chaos of the fire alarm helped to deter others’ attention, and thankfully, nobody cried out in shock at the clear signs of magic happening right in the middle of the police station.

  I flung the bathroom door open with an exhale of relief, skidding inside just as the transformation into my own body picked up speed. I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder and caught the piercing blue eyes from my shadow landing on me. He registered my escape route and broke into a run.

  I glanced around, horrified at the lack of window in the room. At least, not one large enough for escape. There was a tiny little thing that let in enough light to highlight the bland, paint-chipped walls and cracked faucets, but that was it. The walls were solid cement. There was no way out of here except back through the door and straight into the attacker’s waiting arms.

  The final bout of transformation back to Lily Locke hit me with a searing burst of energy. I lurched forward, holding onto the sink as the Long Isle Iced Tea left my system. It was getting harder and harder to change back each time I took the potion, I noticed. It wasn’t supposed to be painful, but this time around, it felt as if needles pricked every inch of my skin while I morphed.

  As I clung to the sink and waited for the discomfort to pass, I had one last idea. Possibly the only idea that’d get me out of here without using magic.

  Glancing in the mirror, I scanned myself over. The transformation was complete. I was back in my normal clothes with my normal brown hair and my normal face. Save for my eyes—my eyes were wide with fear.

  I allowed one second to wonder who the man was and why he was after me.

  Originally, I had guessed him to be a cop—a logical choice, seeing as he wore an officer’s uniform and hung out in a police station. Unless, he’d followed me here.

  But how? How had he gotten a uniform? I’d watched myself for a tail, but there’d been nothing unusual about my trek here that I’d noticed. Not to mention, a human cop shouldn’t have been able to follow me so closely once I’d launched the protective spell.

  Did the files I’d taken from Dinker’s office have some sort of tracking device on them? Some sort of alarm that’d sounded when Dinker recalled the files? It was possible there was someone out there who didn’t want these files re-opened. But who? And why?

  The only logical explanation left was that the man was indeed a cop—a cop who’d worked on my mother’s case. He might be a cop who had something to hide, a cop who’d received a payout to cover up certain information. I hugged my bag close to me, praying the files held the answers I needed.

  The fire alarm’s sudden silence jerked me back to reality. Hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders, I walked toward the restroom door and bit my lip. I had only one plan to get out of here, and it would require huge amounts of charisma and zero percent nerves. I had to fool my attacker face to face.

  He was following Diane. I now looked like Lily.

  It would have to be enough.

  Sighing, I pulled the door open and offered a bright smile as I came face to face with the blond man who had followed me here. He straightened, surprised by my sudden appearance.

  “This is the women’s room,” I said to him quickly. “You should probably head down the hall to the men’s room. There’s someone in here who asked for privacy.”

  It was by sheer willpower that my hands didn’t shake. I’d plopped my hat back on my head and looked away from him. I folded my arms in front of me and gripped my waist so hard my nails dug into my skin.

  Every nerve in my body screamed for me to move, to get out of there, to get my legs pumping and carry me away from him, but I fought back. I forced myself to play it cool and offered a smile before I set off.

  He stared at my back as I left.

  My breath hitched, but I didn’t stop.

  It took every ounce of self-control not to look back over my shoulder. I forced my feet to carry me forward. When I reached the safety of the outside world, I sprinted, my lungs screaming for air as I rounded the corner and ducked into the nearest coffee shop. A few cops hovered around the counter, each holding a piping hot mug of coffee and a donut as they discussed the faulty fire alarms and miserable city budgets.

  I hopped in line, shielding myself behind a particularly rotund man in a suit, and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. After a few seconds, my follower ran from the building and drew to an abrupt stop. He ran a hand through his hair as he hissed out a curse word I couldn’t decipher.

  My heart thumped in my chest. I was sure the man next to me could hear it pounding. When it was my turn at the counter, the barista asked me multiple times for my name, and even after I finally heard her question, I was too upset to respond.

  My hands shook, and the last thing I needed was caffeine. With an apology, I slipped from line and took a side door out to the opposite street. My follower remained standing in front of the building, talking to something near his wrist. Some sort of Comm, no doubt.

  I hesitated. A Comm?

  Could the man be a paranormal? Could he... I hesitated, not wanting to think it. But after all the assassin talk from Millie and Ainsley this morning, combined with Liam’s convictions that The Faction was ready to move forward with a plan, I had to wonder... could I have faced off with a demigod?

  I shuddered and pulled my clothes tighter to my body as I made my
way toward Ainsley’s house. I muttered a quick Map Maker spell and input the name of Ainsley’s house so that every time I glanced at my palm, a shadow of an arrow would point me in the right direction.

  I had no clue who the man might be, but the more curious issue was how he’d found me. My plan couldn’t have been leaked. It was impossible. Not a soul in the world had known of my stop at the police station today. Not Ranger X, not Poppy, not Ainsley, not Hettie.

  I’d come here alone. Completely, and utterly by myself.

  Except... I hadn’t been alone.

  Chapter 13

  “I’M AT AINSLEY’S NOW,” I told Ranger X, curling up in the spare bedroom on the comforter Ainsley had said was mine for the night. “Her mother’s cooking dinner, and it smells delicious. We’ll be eating soon, but I just wanted to check in.”

  “Have a nice time, okay?” he said. “You deserve to relax.”

  “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You sound tired.”

  “I’m tired, but nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about me—I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re back.”

  “Did you learn anything else about that Soul Suck?”

  “Since we last talked?” He laughed. “No. However, there was another incident.”

  “Oh, no.”

  He grimly agreed. “Nobody was hurt, so that’s the positive. Unfortunately, there was another report of a Ranger breaking into someone’s house.”

  “To do what?”

  “I have no idea.” Ranger X hesitated, and when he spoke again, he sounded uncertain. “Reported missing was a sandwich and all the photographs from the wall frames.”

  “Why would someone take a sandwich and someone else’s pictures?”

  “You’ve got me.”

  “But, it can’t be a Ranger, right? First, I can’t imagine what any of the Rangers could possibly want with that stuff. And secondly, aren’t all the Rangers working in pairs? That would mean everyone has an alibi.”

  “Almost every Ranger has been accounted for during each of the crimes.”

  “Almost everyone?”

  Ranger X exhaled. “Two of my staff lack alibis for all of the events.”

  “Oh.”

  “Right. And I refuse to use truth serum on my own men—er, men and women,” he corrected quickly. “We are a family, and I won’t break their trust by doubting them.”

  “But?”

  “But one of the reporters has caught on to the noticeable lack of alibis, and they’re calling for a suspension of the two Rangers in question until the culprit is found.”

  “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  “I know, Lily, I’m not going to listen. That doesn’t mean the islanders aren’t hearing it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, in fact, I’m glad you have some time away. Get a good night’s sleep.”

  “You too,” I said, knowing that wasn’t on his agenda. “At least promise you’ll try.”

  “Sure.”

  I could almost feel him nodding halfheartedly. “I really miss you, and I’m excited to see you again.”

  “Me too. Goodnight, Lily.”

  We bid our goodbyes, and I took the remaining time before dinner to shower quickly and change into some of Ainsley’s spare clothes. We were close enough in size that she had some yoga pants and a sweatshirt that fit me comfortably. Once I’d dressed, I curled back onto the bed and slipped the files from Andy Dinker out of my bookbag.

  With shaking fingers, I began my study of the pages. The first few sheets contained monotonous red tape information. Name, date, disclaimers, etc., and I scanned through them, committing any important names and places to memory: officers who had worked the case, the reported name of the victim, and the location where she’d been found.

  When I got to the names of the two suspects in her murder, I stared at the handwritten print: Adam Sherman and Samuel Palmer.

  The names meant nothing to me.

  Human or paranormal, innocent or guilty, alive or dead, I knew nothing about the two men who’d been convicted of my mother’s murder. For some reason, I’d expected to feel something when I reached this section: a spark of recognition or a surge of hatred. The thrill of the chase or the sadness of seeing the story in black and white.

  I hadn’t expected to feel the blankness. But it hit, and it hit me hard, because along with it came the realization that after all this time and effort, holding the official file in my hands didn’t change a thing. My mother was still dead, and she wasn’t coming back.

  With trembling fingers, I dropped the papers onto the guest bed and relaxed against the pillows. As I closed my eyes, processing it all, a pit lodged in my stomach. Weary, that’s what I was. Weary of the mess, of this complicated existence, of a never-ending battle. Exhausted because I hadn’t had time to recharge. To laugh with my friends. To snuggle my love. To eat a good meal.

  I rested uneasily until the dinner bell rang. As I stood, I forced myself to ignore the pit in my stomach and focus on the evening ahead. I took the stairs down to the main living area, pleased to find the Shaw’s home warm and intricately cluttered. Every shelf, every wall, every cupboard was filled with life and family and the very things that I longed to have.

  For just one night, maybe I could forget the rest.

  “I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE you’re here!” Ainsley’s mother tittered with excitement. “The Mixologist is over for dinner. Wait until mother hears she missed this, Frank.”

  Frank Shaw, Ainsley’s father, gave a lopsided smile from underneath his mess of untidy hair. “Wait until she hears indeed. I’m sure she’ll be terribly disappointed.”

  “Believe me,” Ainsley said, leaning closer to me. “You’re lucky it’s just us. My grandmother can take some getting used to.”

  “We can hear you, Ainsley,” her mother said, though she didn’t seem all that upset. “Anyway, let’s eat.”

  Dinnerware and plates of food floated in from the kitchen, and as everything settled in its place, I was struck by the oddities of having a magical family. It seemed surreal to me even now, the concept of growing up with levitating meals and table talk of hexes. To the Shaws, it was just another day in the neighborhood.

  “Tell me about that handsome man of yours.” Mrs. Shaw kicked off the conversation with pink cheeks. “You two make the most gorgeous couple.”

  “Mother! Will you stop already?” Turning to me, Ainsley gave an apologetic shake of her head. “My mom’s been reading that rubbish newspaper. Wicked Weekly or whatever—I swear, they will print anything to make a quick buck.”

  I gave a snort of agreement.

  “I’m just making conversation.” Ainsley’s mother helped herself to a dinner roll and loaded it up with butter. “How long have you two been together?”

  “Awhile now. We started dating not long after I arrived on The Isle,” I admitted. “Ranger X is doing well. He keeps plenty busy with his work, but that’s normal.”

  “I’m sure.” Frank raised his eyebrows. “Say, have you kept in touch with much from your human days, Lily? I read something in the New York Times that got the old brain ticking away. Self-driving cars. What do you know about them? How do they work? Seems to me a bit like magic.”

  “Don’t quiz the poor girl, Frank,” his wife said, just before she turned to me with a cheeky smile. “Tell me more about this boyfriend of yours. Do I hear wedding bells in the near future?”

  My smile must have frozen on my face. A second of extended silence stretched across the table before Ainsley threw me a lifejacket. “Mom. Dad. If you can’t stop being nosy, Lily and I are going out for dinner and not coming back until you’re asleep.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Shaw glanced down at their plates, picking through the first bites of pasta. Angel hair, I noticed with a wry smile, and thought fondly of Dinker and Diane.

  “Are we allowed to ask about your work?” Mr. Shaw directed the questio
n at me, but he looked to Ainsley. “I’d love to hear about any potions you’re working on, Lily.”

  Ainsley shot me a raised eyebrow, and I nodded, grateful to latch onto a topic that didn’t involve rings and vows.

  “Actually, I have a few things I’ve been working on,” I said, diving into an explanation of my recent surge of Security Spells. “I’m working on a new one—er, I was, until a shortage of ingredients put the kibosh on that.”

  “Which ones?” Frank asked, his plate nearly empty after my long-winded explanation of Mixology. “Anything I can help you find?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I was looking for Forgotten Ferns,” I said, forlorn. “I’ve heard they grow specifically on The Isle, on a particular farm.”

  “Ah, I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Any news when they’ll be ready?”

  “Likely not till next year,” I said on a heavy sigh. “Unfortunate, but what can you do?”

  Frank sat, paused in thought. “So, what brings you to the mainland?”

  “Just a visit to Ainsley and the library,” I said. “I’ve never been before and figured I should pay a visit.”

  “What’s the topic of your trip?”

  “Frank,” Mrs. Shaw interrupted. “Honey, leave our guest alone. Ainsley’s already annoyed we’re asking her so many questions.”

  “No, really, it’s okay,” I said, feeling the dawn of an idea. “Mr. Shaw—”

  “Frank, please.”

  “Frank, then,” I said. “Do you know anything about the Master of Magic?”

  He analyzed me with a piercing gaze. I ducked my eyes for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of his stare. Then at once, it ended and a mildly pleased, somewhat confused look took over.

  “Oh, no,” Ainsley murmured under her breath. “He was doing so well.”

  “What?” I asked softly. “What happened?”

  Frank hummed, his eyes glimmering with brightness as he sat back in his chair, surveying the table. “Delicious dinner, darling. What were we talking about?”

  I looked to Ainsley in confusion. She’d warned me something unfortunate had happened to her dad, but I’d gotten the impression it wasn’t any of my business. I hesitated to press further without her permission, and judging by the steely set of her jaw, she wasn’t thrilled to share.