I pictured Grant's abduction in the middle of the night, gleefully imagining him forced to spend the day expressing his emotions through interpretive nodding. I was tempted to sign him up, but with HR’s mandate, they’d probably abduct me, too.
Our tropical island, hidden somewhere in the Pacific, was split clean down the middle. One side was reserved for magical corporate retreats like ours with team-building, enchanted mixers, and a revolving door of witchy keynote speakers. The other side catered to mystical renewal. It was the kind of place that promised to heal your aura and realign your love life for a modest fortune. Photos showed moonlit vow renewals and rune-etched gongs. They even offered spiritual counseling for relationships on the brink. My waterfall was tucked down there, too, right beside the couples therapy the bartender had recommended.
Ha! The only couples therapy I wanted to attend with Grant was electroshock therapy, where I got to press the button. I scowled, brushing cookie crumbs from the bodice of my dress. One had fallen a little deeper, and I fished it out before glancing awkwardly toward the open window.
Straight into Grant’s hut.
He was mid-motion, tugging a Snowbelt polo down his obnoxiously sculpted abdomen. Was the man secretly hauling Christmas trees between cases in some lumberjack side hustle? Meanwhile, my idea of working out was lifting a gingerbread mocha to my mouth or stretching to snag a romance novel off the top shelf.
Okay… maybe I did need a little shock therapy. And fewer romance novels, considering the way my gaze lingered like the heroine in every rom-com. But this wasn’t some classic enemies-to-lovers trope where the hero was hiding a deep well of emotion behind his death stare.
This was true crime.
Grant's glare met my scowl across the short distance.
“Like what you see, Spells?” His voice drifted lazily through the open window.
I swayed closer, clocking the way his gaze dropped to my hips. With a little zing in my chest I couldn't control, I curled my fingers around the curtain. My teeth sank into my bottom lip, a low hum vibrating in my throat.
“Very much…”
Grant went still, that smug look going sharp at the edges. His chest expanded as if he’d just sucked in a breath.
My smile turned feral. “As much as getting stung by a jellyfish. In the face.”
I yanked thecurtain shut.
Take that, Delaney.
I dusted my hands together. Out of sight, out of mind. At least for the next few minutes. I grabbed my sneakers and wrangled my brain to focus on the task ahead.
This island was supposed to be my salvation, and it would be. I had my map, a self-fulfilling itinerary, and enough reckless determination to ditch Grant and go trekking through the jungle.
Beetles beware. I was getting my groove back, even if it meant lying, cheating, and sending my nemesis on a wild-goose chase to do it.
Chapter 3
Valerie
“Competitors, take your mark!”The shout echoed through a bullhorn, and I glanced at Sage Bennett, my fellow miracle agent turned today’s tug-of-war judge, perched in the lifeguard chair. She slid her sunglasses down her nose and gave me a questioning lip curl when she spotted an armband matching mine circling Grant’s bicep.
I returned her expression with one of my own that read:I’ll explain this horror show later.
Sage was a Snowbelter, but we’d become close friends when I went undercover during a ski lodge rescue mission. The agency, in its infinite wisdom, had sent Sage back to her hometown on sabbatical and needed an agent she wouldn’t recognize to meddle with her love life. My cover? Playing personal assistant to Leo—the town villain—while sneaking in a little matchmaking and saving a town landmark on the side.
That was before my magic went haywire, and now Sage was the only one I’d confided in with the extent of my glitch. It was her idea to hire that medium and those blasted ghosts. She even got a kickback for the referral while I still checked the shadowsfor ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future night terrors. But Sage was my friend. She’d keep my secret.
I broke eye contact and focused on the arena: the swimming pool. It had been filled with ice cubes and rigged with two raised platforms sitting above the water. A rope of prickly garland stretched between the bases. Anyone who lost their footing was in for a polar plunge.
On one side of the pool sat an inflatable bin packed with snowballs. Ammo for our junior agents, who’d love nothing more than to take the upper ranks down. We’d have to dodge the frosty obstacles they pelted at us and try not to take any to the face.
Sage raised her bullhorn. “All right, miracle-makers! Rules are simple. Two teams on the platforms, one extra-bristly strand of garland between them, no gloves! Yank your opponents into the ice tank before they dunk you. Each winning team will have ten points added to their island score.” She smirked and turned toward the crowd. “What do you think? Should I make things more interesting?”
The agents roared their approval. Sage swept her arm into the air, flicking her wrist and fingers into a spiral. The sun dimmed. Clouds formed overhead. Then giant flakes fell in a dizzy swirl as the wind whipped across the pool.
I crossed my arms tight against my chest and stifled a groan. Sage had conjured a blizzard in paradise.
Unfair advantage to the Snowbelters.
