Hex on the Beach (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 1) (21 page)

“So that’s where you get it from?” I smiled.

Poppy’s eyes crinkled with her grin. “Possibly. Then again, you’re related too.”

“But—”

Poppy squished a finger against my lips
.
“
Shhhh.
Your job is simple. Just have a recipe ready to go by the time I get back, and holler if you think of something in particular you need. Otherwise, I’ll just grab the basics and whatever else I can find.”

Before I could protest again, Poppy was off to gather supplies. I sat alone, only a book the size of a couch to keep me company.

A book the size of a couch makes for interesting company, it turned out, though creating a drink that repelled men was far more complicated than one might imagine.

By the time Poppy returned an hour later, I had ten separate recipes that could potentially start us off in the right direction.

“Hey, can you open up this door?” Poppy called from outside the den.

Frowning, I stood, turned the knob, and saw immediately why she couldn’t do it herself. “Wow, Poppy, you shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, it’s just the basics. I figured we might need some trial and error, so I got plenty of everything. But don’t mess up more than three times, or we’ll run out of ingredients.”

Judging by the stack of ingredients in Poppy’s arms, we’d never run out. She stood in the entryway looking like the Leaning Tower of Witchcraft—bottles and vials in one hand, leaves stuffed into pockets, plants balanced every which way in her arms.

I hustled to relieve her of the ingredients and spread them on the table in front of the couch.

“There.” Poppy’s chest heaved. “That should get ya started, huh?”

“You forgot one thing…” I eyed all the ingredients.

Poppy’s face fell. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I spent forever gathering all that. I even asked Hettie for suggestions, and she was more than happy to load me up with the most dangerous ingredients.”

I grinned at my cousin. “I’m just kidding. You wanted me to joke with you, right?”

“You learn quickly!”

“Okay, since you brought an entire garden, I have a few ideas. I’ve come up with a handful of starter potions that’ll give us a good baseline. Shall we begin testing?”

Poppy’s eyes glowed. “Well, I didn’t haul this junk across The Twist for
fun
.”

“Basil. Do you have basil? And garlic.” I looked at my notes. “Those are the two consistent ingredients I have for each tester potion.”

“Are you trying to scare men away with your
breath
?” Poppy shook her head. “If you’re not careful, you might kill them. Garlic can be lethal.”

“I’ve factored that in, you’ll be happy to know, and I plan to include mint leaves to combat the dragon-breath issue.” I smiled, pleased I’d had the foresight to address that tiny wrench. “But here’re my thoughts. Basil has strong love properties and is used in a lot of spells to bring love to you.”

Poppy’s eyebrows cinched together as she listened.

“Garlic, however, has protective spells. I’m thinking if I can combine the two with a few other ingredients, the garlic might reverse the effects of the basil and instead of drawing love to us, it’ll push it away.” I finished speaking quickly, a thrill growing inside me. Mixing magical drinks was like solving a problem and putting a puzzle together.

“You’re going to make this potion temporary, right?” Poppy bit her lip. “I’m just saying… I’m only looking for a quick fix in case I’m having a no-makeup sort of day and want to sunbathe on the beach. I don’t want my ovaries drying up forever. I think I’d like a man at some point.”

I frowned. “It’ll be temporary.”

“Well, I’m not testing it until you can prove it’s temporary.”

“I have dandelion powder for that.” I selected a small vial and held it up for Poppy to see. “Dandelions come and go so quickly, so I’m thinking their short lifespan will give the formula properties of a temporary potion.”

“Test it on Zin. I don’t think she’s into men,” Poppy said. “At least not romantically. She’s still bitter they won’t let her become a Ranger, so she’s sort of sworn off boys.”

“It’s unfair,” Zin said from the doorway, having crept in while I laid out my plan for the potion. “I heard you guys talking about me.”

“It’s nothing we wouldn’t have said to your face,” Poppy said. “You don’t like men because they won’t let you be a Ranger.”

“I still don’t want to test the potion,” Zin said. “Maybe someday I won’t dislike men so much, and I’d like the
option
of them being around.”

“I’ll test it on myself. I don’t have luck with the male species anyway,” I said. “Now, I need a pot, a burner, and a few stir sticks. Where can I find those?”

Another hour and three failed potions—which bubbled puke-green, sunflower-yellow, and then murky-brown—later, I came up with one that didn’t smell like feet. We had potential.

“Look at this one.” I spun the violet concoction with the long stir stick. “I think the salt made all the difference. Pinch of salt. Gotta remember that.”

Neither Poppy nor Zin paid me any attention whatsoever. They’d grown bored after the second failed concoction. Poppy thumbed through a magazine while Zin sharpened a long, scary-looking knife.

“You guys, I think I’ve got it.” Excitement simmered, my gut telling me that this formula was the correct one.

The Mix was finally working. As the potion bubbled in the cauldron, I understood what everyone had been trying to tell me—Mixology ran in my veins. I could inherently sense the ingredient needed for a concoction, I could tell when the potion had failed, and best of all, I knew when it worked.

This time, something had changed. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. The air crackled, the presence of magic impossible to deny, although Zin and Poppy didn’t appear to notice a difference.

“It’s working,” I whispered. “Magic.”

“How does it feel?” Poppy glanced up from her magazine with a smile. “Betcha can’t go back to working as an accountant now.”

I shook my head, ignoring the fact I’d never once been an accountant. After one teensy victory as a Mixologist, already I knew I’d never return to my days as a normal human. The thrill of magic, the excitement, the passion—it permeated every atom of my body.

Finally I understood that I’d not only come home, but I belonged.

The knock on the door almost caused me to dump my newly created
Hex on the Beach
right on top of myself. I’d lined up a small vial and was carefully funneling the purple potion from the cauldron into a portable container when the knock sounded.

I hadn’t decided if I’d let Gus know about our experiments, but I wanted to keep an extra sample on hand, just in case I wanted to show off for him. Even though I’d broken his rules about learning the facts before messing with magic, I thought my first Menu
item was something to be proud of, something Gus deserved to see. After all, he’d given me the tools to create magic in the first place.

The knock sounded again, and I glanced up, annoyed.

Poppy froze with a look of trepidation on her face. “Remember how I said Hettie fixed us up with some extra ingredients?”

I fixed a
look
on Poppy.

“Well…” She wrung her hands. “I might not have told her
exactly
what we were going to use it for.”

“Then we better hide this stuff.” Zin stood, gesturing toward the ingredients spread across the table, the simmering cauldron, the containers of failed experiments. “And quickly, since I’m sick of getting into trouble. If we’re going to keep breaking rules, we really have to learn to be better about hiding the evidence.”

“Where can we put it?” I asked, panic lacing my voice. “It’s all—”

The knock turned into a pound, interrupting my concerns.

“Lily, come out here,” Mimsey’s voice rang sweetly through the kitchen door.

Too sweetly.
I looked at my cousins with raised eyebrows. They shrugged.

“You have a visitor,” she clarified. “Come on out and say hello.”

I exhaled a sigh—the last thing I wanted at the moment was a visitor. “It’s late, Mimsey. Why are you up? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

That sugary sweetness seeped through her voice again. “Oh, I was just cleaning up in the kitchen. He didn’t bother me. Don’t be rude to your guest. It might be important.”

“This is good,” Poppy whispered. “You slip out, we’ll clean up here. Store the stuff over in the chest in the corner under the blankets.”

“Thank you,” I mouthed, slipping toward the door. I pocketed the vial of extra
Hex on the Beach,
finger-combed my hair, and straightened my jean skirt. Putting a hand on the doorknob, I made sure my cousins were mostly out of sight before I twisted the handle. “Coming!”

“There you are, dear, I was starting to think you were sleeping.” Mimsey tittered. “You have a visitor. He’s waiting just round the corner in the front hall.”

I took quick steps down the hallway, my mouth parting in surprise at the unexpected guest. “Aarik, hello! What brings you ’round The Twist?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Aarik’s sky-blue eyes met mine before he glanced away, demurely looking at his shoes.

“I’m doing just fine.” I smiled, gesturing toward my body. “Thanks to you.”

Mimsey stood a foot away, watching the exchange with a dreamy expression. “How romantic.”

“Mimsey?” I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you have… sewing to do?”

“I don’t sew.” She grinned more broadly.

“Cooking?”

“I hate cooking.”

“Mimsey!” My voice finally broke her out of a daydream.

“Oh, er. Right. I was just having a cup of tea. Would you two like some?” She tore her gaze away from Aarik and looked toward me.

I shook my head. “No, we’re okay. Do you mind?”

“Oh, I don’t need to stay long.” Aarik offered a shy glance in my direction before clearing his throat and explaining to Mimsey. “Lily and I parted on, uh, interesting terms, and I just wanted to make sure Lily had made it home. When you weren’t at the bungalow, I stopped here, figuring you might be with your family.”

“He’s the one who helped me out already.” I stepped forward, resting a hand on Aarik’s shoulder. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a glass of wine or a cup of tea before you’re off? Just a small thank you. After all, it’s a long way to come just to turn around and leave.”

“I’m really fine,” Aarik said, waving in a
no thanks
gesture. “I just wanted to see you. Make sure you were safe.”

“Fancy a walk?” Mimsey asked him. “Lily, maybe you should take him through the lilac bushes. They’re in full bloom now. You can lead him back through The Twist afterward. I let him in, and he’ll need a guide out.”

“We can skip the walk. I’m sure Aarik’s tired.” Turning to Aarik, I gave an apologetic shrug. “But I’d be happy to lead you back. I think I should be able to get the route straight this time.”

“That would be great. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” Aarik gave a long nod toward Mimsey. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Mimsey blushed profusely, fanning her face. “Lily, can I see you a moment?”

Before I could respond, my aunt yanked me around the corner so quickly my arm was in danger of dislocation.

“When you walk him through The Twist, take a left at the apple tree instead of a right,” Mimsey spoke in hushed tones. “It’s a bit longer a route but scenic. Very pretty at night, especially when we have such a bright moon.”

“Why do I sense you have an ulterior motive?” I whispered back. “There’s nothing romantic between Aarik and me. We don’t need scenic.”

“Not yet, but there could be.” Mimsey bit her lip, as if debating whether or not to continue speaking.

“Spill the beans.”

“
Fine!
The lilacs have a bit of a lust tendency when combined with moonlight. It won’t make you fall in love, but if there’s something there underneath, it might help things along.”

“Mimsey…”

She pouted. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I’m not interested in romance whatsoever. I’m more interested in finding out why I’m in danger, who killed Leonard—you know, important things like that.”

“Love is important. Do you want to go through life and end up alone like—” She stopped, having worked herself into a fit. “Never mind. Do whatever you like. You’re not listening anyway.”

I wondered if Mimsey had meant to say “alone like me,” but I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want to see her upset, but I also didn’t want a pile of pressure heaped on Aarik and me, who were nothing more than acquaintances at best. First order of business was figuring out where Harpin had gone.

I returned around the corner, finding Aarik standing with his hands at awkward angles to his sides, a pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry if you heard that,” I said, squinting at my sequined shirt.

“I tried not to listen.” He grimaced. “Neither of you have particularly quiet
inside voices
.”

I laughed. “It’s nothing against you. I like you, it’s just… I’m new here, still getting my bearings. You don’t mind if we take the shortcut and skip the lilac bushes for now, do you?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “No offense, but I was hoping you’d say that. I’d rather get a Caffeine Cup with you before your aunt puts a spell on us.” He gave a quick shake of his head. “That sounds wrong, I suppose. All I meant was that I’d like to get to know you without magic interfering.”

“I agree.” I smiled as I gently touched his arm, leading him toward the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. Maybe we can do coffee tomorrow?”

“I’d like that.”

The stroll through The Twist was far more pleasant than I’d expected. Neither Aarik nor I felt the need to continually speak, and we fell into an easy silence. A few late-night birds chirped, insects buzzed, and light glinted off beautiful blossoms and shining leaves. The floral scent added a nice touch, and before I knew it, we’d reached the entrance.

“This is it.” I stopped short of the entrance to The Twist, where the hidden garden path met up with the rest of local civilization. “Thanks for stopping by. I really appreciate it.”

Aarik stepped toward me, and for a second, I thought he just might kiss me. A subtle whiff of smoke caught me off guard, though it wasn’t unpleasant—it had a floral quality, easy on the lungs, unlike the harsh menthol of cigarettes. His warm body stood inches from mine, his blue eyes a bit hazy.

“About that Caffeine Cup tomorrow…” His breath danced softly on my cheek, the scent unusual but not unpleasant.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“That’s the thing.” His face tensed, his eyebrows knitted together. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh.” I tried to hide my surprise while wondering what had changed during our midnight stroll. “That’s no problem. We can always reschedule… er, if you’d like, that is.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” His hand cupped the side of my neck, his fingers weaving into my hair.

I looked into his eyes, his tone setting off the first set of alarm bells in my defense system. “Why is that—”

Before I could finish the question, my eyesight became hazy.

The look in Aarik’s expression turned glazed and barren. “Because you won’t be able to make it either.”

I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t speak. My body, my mouth, my tongue—it’d all become paralyzed. Only a second later did I feel the
zap
of magic snaking through my veins, and I realized seconds too late that he must have used a spell as he touched my neck.

Hot threads of magic—evil magic, by the feel of it—wound through my body. One by one, I lost the ability to move, to speak, to stand. I collapsed in his arms.

As the spell darkened the edges of my mind, sending me reeling toward a cliff of blackness, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”