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

He set the glass down, his eyes burning holes in my skin from under his hood. As quickly as the hood slid back, he pulled it forward once more.

“Are you okay?” I asked, expecting more of a reaction. Some gagging maybe, or a vile expression. Instead, the whole thing was relatively anti-climactic until the man’s lips curled into a smile brimming with disdain. I raised my shoulders. “Can I get you water or something?”

“Good night, Lily Locke.” He stood and withdrew gold coins from within the depths of his robes. Throwing all of them on the table, he turned and strode toward the door.

“Wait!” I called after him. “This is too much! Ten times the amount due!”

The figure paused at the doorway, his chest rising and falling beneath his robes. “Where I’m going, gold is useless.”

I wanted to call after him that I could help, that maybe there was some antidote. I wanted to shout advice, take back the entire potion, and throw it away for good. But I found myself unable to do any of it. Instead, I stood frozen in place and watched as he left. Gus’s eyes never left my face, his stare pinning me to the wall with its intensity.

“Let it go, Lily,” Gus said quietly. “Let him go, and close up shop for today. Your work here is done.”

Chapter 5

I closed up shop just as Gus had ordered, taking my time as I wiped down the glassware and washed leftover dishes. Though the sun was high in the sky and the day was only half gone, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion, my mind as fried as if I’d been memorizing herbs for ten hours straight.

The light jangling sound of coins reminded me of the two visitors from today. Both had overpaid their bills significantly, and as I scrubbed the top of the wooden bar clean, guilt tugged at my insides.

Exhaling a sigh, I finished cleaning the bar, locked up, and disappeared back into the storeroom.

“What now?” I asked Gus. He sat at the table with a pair of glasses perched on his nose, studying what looked like a tiny twig on the table. “I’ve never had a day off before.”

“You talk as if I’m a slave driver,” he said without looking up.

I made an “if the shoe fits” sort of shrug, but luckily, he was too busy slicing the twig in half with a very sharp knife to notice.

“I saw that,” he said. “I can tell if you roll your eyes at me from a mile away.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes!”

“Did you make a face?” Gus looked up, his eyes magnified at least ten times behind his glasses. “You made a face.”

“Well, it’s true. I don’t usually have days off. Can I please help with whatever you’re working on? It’ll make me feel better.”

“No.”

I crossed the room and sat down on the bench opposite him. “Please?”

“It’s not my job to make you feel better,” he said. He remained tense for a moment, hiding his thoughts until finally his hands relaxed and he spoke softly. “Don’t you want to rest?”

“Don’t
you
want to relax?” I shot back. “The shop is closed. Why don’t you go enjoy the day?”

“I like spending my time here.” Gus didn’t look up, but he paused ever so slightly as he said the words. “I don’t have a life outside of this place.”

“I like it here too,” I said softly. “I’d be happy to help you.”

Gus let out a slow breath. At first it looked like he wanted to argue. Then he pushed the glasses up on his head and gave me a curious stare. “You want to help?”

“I need the distraction.”

“Five minutes,” Gus said. “That’s all I have left here. Believe it or not, I do have plans tonight.”

“Are you going on a date with Mimsey?” I asked in a sing-song voice. “Dinner plans?”

“You talk like that and I’ll switch up Dragon’s Breath with Foxtail when you’re not looking. Then we’ll see who’s laughing when you have hives across your forehead.”

“I’m just asking,” I said, taking the twig from Gus. “What do I do with this?”

“Slice it very thinly.”

“Is it toxic?”

Gus raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“What’s it called?”

“It’s a damn vanilla bean,” Gus said. “Nothing except flavoring.”

My cheeks colored. “Oh, okay. Never seen one like this before.”

Gus’s sigh sounded frustrated. “Well, then learn.”

We lapsed into silence. The task took much longer than five minutes. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. The time had been pleasant, and Gus had been surprisingly cordial as he explained in great detail the process of scooping out the seeds.

“Thanks,” I said once we were all done. “That helped take my mind off things.”

“You’re gonna need someone else to distract you now,” Gus said. “I ain’t yer babysitter.”

I stifled a smile as Gus’s gruffness returned. “Maybe I’ll see what my cousins are up to.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea.”

I put the ingredients away and filed each jar in its rightful place before starting up the stairs to the attic. “Thanks for everything, Gus. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s a lie. You did it all on yer own, I just supervised.”

“Have a nice night, Gus.”

“Lily,” he called, almost as an afterthought. “You did good. That’s a hard thing for even an experienced Mixologist to do.”

“Which part?”

“All of it,” Gus said. “Creating The Elixir is just the start. It gets more difficult from here on out.”

“Did I do the right thing?” I asked, taking a few steps back down the stairs. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

“You did what you had to do, and that is the nature of your job.”

“I just wish the last Mixologist was still alive. I have so many questions about everything.”

Gus thunked his cane across the room and came to a stop in front of me. “You don’t need to hear opinions from the outside when it comes to your instincts. You don’t need me, or your aunts, or your cousins, telling you what is right or wrong.”

“I don’t like making those decisions.”

“The Mixologist is chosen based on many criteria,” Gus said. “Part of the criteria is the notion of good and evil. By nature, you are a good person. We have never had an evil Mixologist, and I doubt it’s possible.”

“I thought it was all based on blood lines.”

“Blood lines play a role in it. Zin, Poppy, all of Trinket’s other rascals—they all could’ve become the Mixologist based on blood alone, yet you were the one chosen. Trust that you inherited this place for a reason,” Gus said, gesturing to the storeroom. “The knowledge and instincts run through your veins. Instead of turning outside to find the answer, you must turn inside and listen. When you learn how to listen to your heart, you’ll find the difference between right and wrong.”

“What if I can’t hear it?”

“You can, and you will. It takes time, like all things.” Gus returned to the table, a sign the conversation was rapidly coming to an end. “Next time you’re faced with a tough decision, use it as practice. Take a moment to be silent...and just listen.”

Chapter 6

Thirty minutes later, I’d showered, splashed on a bit of makeup, and slipped into a light, summery dress. My mind whirred at an incredible rate, but Gus’s words had helped calm my pounding heart. Standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, I did a quick twirl and watched as the dress floated around my knees.

It felt good to get cleaned up and put on a nice outfit. I rarely had a night away from the shop, and when I did, it was usually reserved for dinner with the family. In recent weeks, Mimsey had forced Gus to let me out early once per week, and she was a strict enforcer of family meals. It was nice to have someone watching out for me, since most of my life, I’d fended for myself.

The sun was setting outside, casting beautiful glows of red and orange and pinks across my room. The attic had been converted into a quaint bedroom with fluffy white pillows and a snowy, lush comforter. I was sorely tempted to crawl under the soft covers and just sleep.

“No you don’t, Lily Locke,” I said, muttering to myself in the mirror. “You have one night off, and you will not spend it sleeping.”

Throwing a thick shawl over my shoulders, I made my way downstairs. Gus was gone already, so I did one final sweep of the storeroom, careful not to step on any of the yarn or wires still out from our theorizing the night before. Both the interior and the outside bar were deserted, so I turned the key in the lock and bounced down the front steps.

I trudged through the sand, the warm, dazzling crystals cascading over my toes as I walked. I’d lived in flip-flops ever since I’d arrived because really, anything else was impractical. I strolled toward The Twist, the garden labyrinth outside of Hettie’s house that kept visitors—welcome or not—at bay.

My plans for tonight were simple. First, I would stop by The Twist to see if my cousins were available for a stroll. I wanted to return the extra coins Liam had left on the counter, and I figured the walk across The Isle would be a lot more fun with company. After that, maybe the three of us would grab a bite to eat at the restaurant near the B&B. Knowing the girls, all I had to do was offer to pay for food and they’d leap at the opportunity to join.

However, my plans went off track before I made it to The Twist.

Spotting one of my cousins on the way, I stepped from the sandy beach onto a green expanse of grass, raising a hand to shield the setting sun. Ten feet away, Zin sat as still as a stone statue, her eyes shut and her hands on her head. Close to me stood my grandmother, Hettie, dressed in a tiara that dazzled from the glow of the lake and a hoodie that read “Dance Mom” in blinging letters.

I walked up to Hettie and nodded at the hoodie. “Do any of your kids dance?”

“Not yet,” Hettie said. “But it’s never too late.”

I sized up the rest of her outfit, and then quickly wished I hadn’t. She wore purple leggings over her starting-to-sag legs, the fabric tight as latex. Over the leggings she’d pulled up leg warmers so woolly she may as well have attached two cats to her calves. The thick gold chain hanging around her neck wouldn’t look out of place on Mr. T.

“You like my outfit?” Hettie asked. “I see you peeking at all the hot stuff I’ve got to offer. I can get you a matching one if ya like.”

“Oh, no thanks,” I said. “I don’t think I could quite pull it off like you do.”

“You’re darn tootin’ you can’t. I didn’t work eighty years on this body for nothin.” She gave her booty a slap with her hand then cackled. “Give yourself another few years and you’ll have the confidence to wear this.”

“If I’m ever that confident, then shoot me,” I mumbled. “Put me out of my misery.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. What is Zin doing?”

“I’m training her.”

“Training her to do what...fall asleep?”

Hettie turned and winked. Then she gestured for me to take a few steps away from the clearing. “She wants to become a Ranger, so I offered to train her.”

“Training includes napping? Maybe I want to be a Ranger, too.”

“Nah, I’m teaching her how to not be an idiot.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I told Zin to sit down and put her hands on top of her head and close her eyes. She’s been sittin’ there not moving for an hour now. She didn’t even ask why.”

“And you’re just watching her?”

“It’s hilarious!” Hettie threw her head back and laughed so hard she choked a little on her own spit. Then she wiped the tears from her eyes and put on a very serious expression. “No, that’s not funny at all. I’m instructing her. See, she needs to learn to question authority. No good Ranger ever became famous because they followed all the rules.”

“So you’re just trying to get her to ask questions.”

“Ask questions, fight back, rebel against The Man—you name it.”

I shook my head. “You have a funny way of instructing people.”

“I learned from the best.”

“What do you mean?” I glanced at this tiara-wearin’, booty-slappin’ grandmother with a wary eye. “Who did you learn from, and what were you learning?”

“Come to Ranger HQ with us, and I’ll show you.”

“You’ve been to Ranger Headquarters?” I couldn’t keep the astonishment out of my voice. “I don’t even know where that is.”

“I worked for the Rangers,” she said. “In fact, how do you think Poppy got her job? I helped her out. But do I get a kick back from her salary? No...”

I was stunned into silence. “Wow, I had no idea.”

“Never judge a grannie by her leg warmers,” she said with another cackle. “That’s a second lesson for you today. I’m even teaching you for free. How do you like that?”

Finally, Zin peeked one of her eyes open. “What are you two talking about? Hi, Lily.”

“Just watching the training,” I said with a shrug. “Very interesting stuff.”

“Hettie, will you tell me if I’m doing this right?” Zin asked in annoyance. “I’ve been sitting here forever, and I’m starting to get hungry.”

“You’re doing it right,” Hettie said. “Just keep going.”

Zin snapped her eyes shut and let out a long sigh. “This is stupid!”

“You’ve got to stop this,” I mumbled to Hettie. “You’re making her look like a fool.”

“I’d rather I make her look like a fool than someone else,” Hettie said, twirling to face me, a sharp cut to her words. “The Ranger career path is not an easy one. She’s got to learn.”

“But—”

“You think I want her to be a Ranger?” Hettie grabbed me by the arm and pulled me a few steps away. “Do you?”

I was a bit taken aback by her forcefulness. “Uh, Zin wants the job, so I suppose she’ll try for it regardless.”

“Of course she wants the job. She can do it, too,” Hettie scoffed. “I didn’t raise any imbeciles, and neither did my daughters. Zin can be anything she wants to be. But a Ranger? That’s a hard life. It’s a tough path, and the likelihood of her makin’ it another ten years in that business is slim.”

My palms began to sweat, and I wondered if maybe I should encourage Zin to pursue a career with a lower mortality rate. “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly.”

“I know the truth because I worked there,” Hettie said. “And if my granddaughter is going to take that job, you’d better believe I’ll be proud of her. I’ll wave her flag from every rooftop these old knees can climb, but what I will not do is send her in unprepared. If she’s going to succeed at the Ranger lifestyle, she needs to learn.”