Hex on the Beach (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 1) (16 page)

“What is this place?” I asked as we approached a small, out-of-the-way cabin. My hands were bound behind my back, probably because I’d threatened to run away enough on the walk over that Ranger X decided not to take any chances. “There’s no way I could ever find my way back here on my own. It’s hidden.”

“That’s not a problem,” Ranger X said. “I don’t want you to find it again.”

“There you go, sounding all creepy again.”

“It’s not personal, Princess. I prefer nobody finds this place.”

“What is it, your secret lair?”

“Something like that.” Ranger X led me up a small stone path that twisted through dark, overhanging branches. “Nobody should come up this way without training.”

“Are we in The Forest?” I looked around, and the question practically answered itself. We’d crossed the Upper Bridge, but I’d been so livid about my handcuffs I’d barely paused to notice my surroundings. “Can you take these cuffs off?”

“I will,” he said. “After you tell me what I need to know. Technically, I should be arresting you. But I’m not taking you in for questioning at the station, so let’s call it a compromise. I’ll remove them after we talk.”

Now that I’d stopped moving for a moment, I noticed the eerie silence surrounding us. We moved in near darkness, the sunlight obscured by a roof of branches wound around one another. The leaves created a twisting path through the underbrush to the front door of a structure that could hardly be called a hut, it was so bare.

“You live like a king,” I said dryly. “Look at this luxury.”

“It’s got four walls, a fireplace, and a comfortable bed—what more do I need?” He glanced my way. “I’m a simple guy.”

“Mmm.” I didn’t respond, mostly because as he’d mentioned
the bed
,
my insides had twisted in strange ways, and I found myself wanting things I didn’t care to admit. I blamed it on frayed nerves and a man who was, though sometimes a pain in the neck, undeniably handsome.

My murmur brought a hint of a smile to his lips. “If I let you go, you’re not going to do something silly like run away now, are you?”

“Depends. Looks like my choices are you or The Forest.” I pretended to think a minute. “I think I’d rather try my luck at the dangers in The Forest.”

“Shame. Then I’ll have to do this.” Ranger X swooped a hand behind my knees, scooping me up against his chest and marching the both of us right into his cabin.

“I was joking!” I wriggled against his arms but gave up just as quickly. It was as useless as trying to get out of a straitjacket—impossible without some limber movements and a special tool. I had no tools and wasn’t particularly flexible, so just biding my time was easier.

He dropped me, rather unceremoniously, on the bed. Thank goodness my dress remained firmly over my knees for now. Especially since Poppy had pointed out so
kindly
that my underclothing was ugly.

“What?” Ranger X stepped back. “What are you muttering about?”

My face turned red. “Nothing.”

“What isn’t ugly…?” He waved. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

I tried to play it cool but failed miserably. My cheeks were hot, and even my ears warmed. “Nothing.”

“I changed my mind about not wanting to know.”

“Unbind me.” I shifted on the bed. “Please.”

“You told me you were going to run.”

“I was
joking
.” I took a deep breath and glanced around the bare cabin. Simple was an understatement. A fireplace sat along the far wall, a table and two chairs that might’ve been handcrafted stood in the middle of the room, and I had been plopped on the bed against the far wall. He’d also been accurate about his bed being comfortable. If he’d just remove my handcuffs, I had no doubt I’d be able to sleep like a baby.

Ranger X didn’t comment, instead walking into a small corner that hardly qualified as a kitchen. A sink, stove, and a few pots and pans did not a kitchen make.

“Where are you going?” I started to stand but then thought better of it.

I didn’t
actually
want to take my chances with The Forest. So instead of fighting my bindings, I decided to embrace them. And try for that nap. Crumpling over on the bed, I relaxed against the soft sheets, the luxurious fabric smooth against my skin. Ranger X didn’t seem like the fancy-thread-count sort of guy—more of a rough flannel sort of man—so the silky satin caught me off guard.

“These sheets are nice,” I murmured, my eyes already drooping. What with Gus waking me at the crack of dawn, coupled with a day filled with shocking news, murder, attempts on my life, and adrenaline that had come and gone, I was exhausted.

“Yes, I happen to like them too. And no, you can’t have them.” Ranger X kneeled next to the bed, his eyes level with mine. “Can you sit up?”

“It’s a bit tricky.” I let my eyes close all the way. “See, I’m really tired. Plus, there’s that whole thing where you tied my hands behind my back.”

Ranger X reached over my body, and his forearm brushed against my ribs, as he did something behind my back. A second later, my bindings vanished. I sat up, rubbing my wrists.

“Did I hurt you?” Ranger X’s eyes clouded, an underlying anger to his voice.

“No, no. Just making sure I still have circulation.” I managed a smile, but Ranger X didn’t seem amused. I set my hands by my sides. “I’m joking, really. I’m fine.”

Ranger X spun my legs to face the front of the bed. Still kneeling, he rested his chest against my knees, one of his arms on either side of my body.

He still didn’t seem particularly amused, but the anger in his eyes had faded, replaced by a murky darkness that made his expression difficult to read. He looked at me with a sharp, intelligent gaze, scanning my face, my arms, and eventually my neck.

“I’d never hurt you.” Ranger X cleared his throat. “I hope you know that.”

I gave a hesitant nod. “I think so.”

“You don’t know so?”

“I hardly know you at all.”

Ranger X leaned forward, his lips hovering over mine and teasing me with the threat of a kiss. All at once, I found myself wanting it, wanting him, and hating that very same fact. He was rude, arrogant… but when his breath danced across my neck, I couldn’t help the shivers that went straight down my spine.

“I can change that,” he said, “if you would like to get to know me better.”

“No,” I murmured, losing the words as they fell from my tongue. “I mean…”

“I gave you two options: me or The Forest.” Ranger X pulled back, his eyes locking on mine. “You chose to stay here instead of take your chances in The Forest.” He blinked. “But Princess, I promise I’m a whole other kind of dangerous.”

“Then I should stay far away from you. Because I’m trouble, and you’re dangerous.”

“Danger and trouble don’t mix.”

I shook my head. “We can’t…”

“We shouldn’t…” He looked down.

My chest rose and fell, my palms sweating with his proximity. Magic—it was the only explanation. Because something drew us together despite every logical thread in my brain screaming at me to stay far, far away from him.

“Your undies aren’t ugly,” he said, finally breaking the heady silence. It was as if the words had tumbled out of his mouth without him having a say in the matter.

“Excuse me?” I blinked.

Mr. Tough Guy looked away, and I’d never in a million years have guessed that this would be the subject matter to embarrass Ranger X. After listening to Poppy’s gossip, I was sure he’d had
plenty
of experience with the island ladies.

“I heard you mumbling. I just thought you should know they’re not ugly.”

“And I don’t think you’ll hurt me.” I gave a lopsided smile to complete the awkward moment.

“I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry.” He produced a plate of bread and some sort of grayish blob that looked like a mutant meatball.

“What the heck is that?”

“Meatball,” he confirmed.

“It looks like brains.”

“Well, it’s not.”

I shook my head. “I’ll stick with the bread.”

“Sorry, I’m not a Michelin chef.”

“You know Michelin? I’m surprised. I didn’t know The Isle studied human culture.”

“Yes, well, some of us are aware.” Ranger X gestured toward a cup of bubbling yellowish liquid that reminded me of fermented lemonade. “Drink that. It’ll help your throat.”

“I don’t trust it.”

“I said I’d never hurt you.”

“Yes, but I don’t trust my stomach to handle it.” I wrinkled my nose. “It smells somewhat like cat puke.”

“Does your throat hurt or not?” Ranger X’s patience was wearing thin, and quite quickly, it appeared.

I pinched my nose, reached for the glass, and downed the entire thing.

“That’s completely nasty,” I said.

“When you come into your Mixology role, you can make something that tastes like fruit and top it with a twist of lemon, for all the hell I care.” He shook his head, moving to sit next to me. “But for now, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’m not begging
anyone
, I’d like to make that clear.”

“Not yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I put a hand under Ranger X’s chin and tilted his face toward mine, forcing our eyes to meet.

They twinkled, dark and dangerous, but his lips remained sealed shut. We froze that way for a long second.

“Let me see what happened here.” Ranger X wrapped his large hand around my smaller wrist and pulled it away from his chin. His dark eyes roved my neck and darkened with a frightening cloudiness.

“I’m
fine
,” I said once more. I still hadn’t looked in a mirror, so I had no idea how bad the marks on my neck looked. “It’s already feeling better after that disgusting beverage.”

“That was for the pain in your throat, not the marks on the outside.” He stood, moved to a different drawer in the kitchen, and removed a small jar. “But you’re in luck. I have something for that too.”

“Seems you can heal anything! Aren’t you just a jack-of-all-trades.”

“My name’s not Jack.”

“I know
that. It’s a saying.”

“A saying?” He knelt once more, his chest pressed against my knees.

“Yes.” I shot a skeptical glance at the jar, which looked more like rubber cement than any sort of medicine. “So what is this you’re using on me now?”

“It’s a salve. It’ll soothe your skin, help the marks fade faster and heal quicker.” Ranger X removed the lid. “May I?”

I nodded, my hesitation less than before.

He dipped his fingers in the salve, a honey-like substance, and brought his hand up to my neck. His fingers hovered over my skin for a long moment as he made eye contact with me.

With a touch as gentle as a butterfly, he applied the salve to my sore neck. His gaze hesitated for a moment on my necklace, then he lightly lifted it and moved his fingers around it. Instead of feeling sticky and gooey as I’d imagined, it was light and airy against my skin. But even as the weightless salve soothed and cooled my skin, his fingers set fire to the same spot. The hot and cold made me shudder from head to toe.

“Does this hurt?” he asked.

“It feels nice. It’s just cold.”

“It’ll help numb the pain and begin the healing process. Would you like me to continue?”

I nodded.
Continue with what?
I would’ve liked him to specify. Because if his hands crept to other parts of my body or his lips fell onto mine, well… I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist that, either.

“All done.” He stood and stepped back, screwing the lid onto the jar. “How do you feel?”

I moved my head back and forth, testing the functionality of my neck. It was a good thing the TruthTeller was wearing off. I couldn’t bear to tell him that I hadn’t noticed all that much of a difference. “Good as new.”

“That’s a lie. It takes at least ten minutes to sink in. Try not to brush up against anything in the meantime.”

“Okay.” I couldn’t describe the empty sensation that took over once he’d removed his hands from my body. “What’s next?”

His shoulders stiffened as he walked over to the sink. “What do you mean?”

“I
mean…
are you taking me back to my cousins?”

“I was thinking you could stay here.”

It was my turn to freeze. “
Why?
”

“Because look at the whole lot of good your cousins did as your bodyguards. No offense to Poppy or Zin, but”—he gestured to my neck as an explanation—“I’d prefer if I can keep an eye on you as much as possible.”

“Of course you would.” For some indescribable reason, my heart sank a few more notches. But only because I sensed his reason for wanting me to stay had everything to do with his job and nothing to do with his feelings. Everything was so clinical with him, down to his lack of a real name.