Chapter 5

" W hat is it, boo?" Dusty asks.

"I don't know," I murmur as I frown. "I just can't help thinking this is a bad idea." I nurse my cup of fruit punch and watch Chan's party in full swing. "I've got a bad feeling."

"You only feel that way because a bunch of creepy green smoke leaked out of an ancient book of magic right before a strange little hairy naked guy exploded into a Jackson Pollack-esque style wall mural of glitter."

"Isn't that enough?"

"We've seen worse, or did you forget the tentacles?" She wiggles her long-taloned fingers, as if I had indeed forgotten the chaos tentacle monster who tried to escape through the magic portal in this very building.

Rolling my eyes, I reach into the pocket of my pirate costume and retrieve my phone to check for missed calls and messages. My stomach churns uneasily when there are none.

"What?" Dusty asks as she studies my face.

"It's just Danny's not here yet. He should have finished work by now. To be honest, I kinda expected him to quit his job and pitch up hours ago."

"I'm sure he's fine, but if you want, I can go check in with him?"

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I glance up at her and sigh. "Thanks, Dusty, but I'm sure you're right."

"I usually am." She waves her hand airily.

"He's probably fine." I shake my head and try to ignore the worry gnawing away in the pit of my belly. Instead, I turn my attention more fully to Dusty, my gaze running over her skintight black leather cat costume and corset, down to the platform stiletto boots she's wearing that are so high I honestly get vertigo just looking at them. "Aren't you supposed to be out guiding spirits or something?"

She shrugs. "What are they going to do? Fire me? Please." She rolls her eyes. "Besides, something tells me that tonight, this is the place to be."

"Well, that just fills me with confidence," I mutter.

"Tristan!" a voice with a sweet Irish lilt calls out, and as the crowd shifts, I see Aidan weave his way through the revellers, narrowly avoiding several very enthusiastic dance moves courtesy of some of the guests.

"Aidan." I smile as he stops in front of us, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright. "You look good. I like your costume." I eye the elaborate and film-accurate pirate costume, complete with tricorn and a beard made up of tentacles.

"Chan helped me make it." He beams. "It's Davy Jones from Pirates of The Caribbean . Nick and I are going to get tickets to LondonComic Connext year, so I've been experimenting with cosplay. You should see Nick's costume!"

"Is he here?" I ask, glancing around, but all I can see is a formation of gyrating bodies doing the Time Warp on the makeshift dance floor.

"He's running late," Aidan replies. "He should be here soon."

I snort. "I think we're going to have to have words with these Hayes men about their timekeeping."

"Is Danny not here either?" Aidan frowns.

"He seems to be AWOL." I try to keep my tone lighthearted, but I still can't seem to shake the sense of unease. "But I'm sure he won't be much longer," I add.

"Who won't be much longer?" Harrison asks as he steps up beside us.

"Danny," Aidan and I both say.

"Sam's not here either." Harrison's brow wrinkles. "Not that I care," he says quickly.

"Sure you don't, Prickles." Dusty snorts. Harrison glares at her, but she simply blows him a kiss and smirks.

"Is it just me, or do you get a weird feeling?" I ask Harrison.

"I've had to readjust my definition of weird since meeting you lot," Harrison replies dryly.

"I mean with the you know. " I widen my eyes at him, as if that should be sufficient to indicate that I mean the naked, chubby, hairy, person from earlier.

"With what?" Aidan says, pulling his tentacle beard down enough to raise his cup to his lips and sip before setting it back in place. "Are you talking about the naked, hairy dude who exploded into glitter?"

We all stare at him.

"Does Chan even know how to keep a secret?" Harrison sighs.

"No," Dusty replies with aplomb.

Aidan shrugs. "We pretty much tell each other everything. Besides, with all the weird shit that goes on around here, he wants to make sure I'm safe."

I huff. "I feel like we're getting a bit of a reputation."

"To be fair, honey, he has a point. There is a lot of weird shit." Dusty nods.

"Actually, Tristan," Harrison interjects, "I think you're right. I have a feeling our night is about to get a lot more dramatic."

"What makes you say that?" I ask worriedly.

"Because we have an unexpected visitor." He lifts his hand and points one slender finger.

I follow his direction and see Olivia, the American witch Harrison befriended, making her way towards us through the crowd, a rather determined look in her whiskey-coloured eyes.

"Oh, this can't be good," I mutter. "Last time she had an expression like that there was a naked demon climbing out of the floor."

"Are all the creatures you encounter naked?" Aidan asks curiously.

"Not always," I murmur as Olivia stops in front of us.

"Olivia," Harrison greets her with a polite nod. "You remember Tristan and Dusty."

"Dusty's here?" Aidan pipes up. "I wish I could see dead people," he adds with a sullen pout.

"No, you don't. Trust me, kid, it's more trouble than it's worth half the time," Olivia tells him.

"This is Aidan," Harrison introduces him.

"Love the costume." She nods, then turns her attention back to me and Harrison. "I'm sorry, this isn't a social call."

"I gathered that," Harrison replies, his brow drawing down again. I swear he's going to have more wrinkles than Ian McKellen by the time he's forty if he's not careful. "What can we do for you?"

She cuts straight to the chase. "Did you get the shipment of books Roni sent over?" He nods. "Uh-huh. And you didn't happen to come across a really heavy, old leatherbound book with metal hinges and a giant-ass lock, all wrapped in duct tape, did you?"

"The one that creepy green smoke escapes from when opened?" I say.

She sighs. "Oh, please tell me you didn't open it."

"To be fair, the tape was already ripped," Harrison adds. "It looked like something had chewed through it."

"Urgh," she growls in frustration. "Okay, next question. You didn't happen to see a little guy around here, did you? About yay high?" She holds out her hand around the height of her thigh. "Hairy. Naked. Drinks a lot of milk."

"Explodes into glitter?" I reply.

"God damn it, Puck." She pinches the bridge of her nose as if searching for her patience. "I swear, when I get my hands on you, I'm going to skin you and make a rug out of you for Cerberus to take a nap on," she mutters.

"Okay, that's very specific," I say slowly. "But what's a puck?"

"His name is Puck, and he's technically a hobgoblin." She frowns. "He's originally from the fairy realms. He hid out in Mercy for decades, living with an old Croatian woman by the name of Marta Varga. She had in her possession a very old and powerful book, which, when opened, causes complete chaos."

"How do you know all this?" I ask curiously.

"Because we were dumb enough to open it last time." She sighs.

"Just what is this book?" Harrison asks.

"It's the Gospodar. The master copy of all fairy tales," she explains. "When it's opened, the fairy-talecreatures have a habit of escaping."

"Fairy-tale creatures?" Aidan gasps. "What, like real characters from real fairy tales, like… I don't know, Little Red Riding Hood?"

Olivia nods. "And trust me, they're nothing like they are in the stories. I had to deal with a narcoleptic Sleeping Beauty, an alcoholic Cinderella, and an Ali Baba, complete with forty thieves, who pretty much trashed my friend Jackson's pub when they got into a fight with Sinbad and his sailors." She shakes her head. "And don't even get me started on the giant beanstalk."

"Well, how did the book end up here?" Harrison scowls. "I thought you were sending me some books on the history and practical application of magic, not a ticking magical time bomb."

"I am sorry, Harrison, you weren't meant to have it at all." Olivia winces apologetically. "We locked it, sealed it, and then hid it away in a secure place."

Dusty snorts. "Obviously, not that secure."

"Trust me, it was secure." Olivia scowls. "It could only be retrieved by magic, which means Puck must have stolen it and tucked it into the shipping crate."

"But why?" Harrison asks in confusion.

"Because he's a pain in my ass." She huffs. "And he gets bored easily. Where is the book now?"

"Upstairs with all the other books we unpacked earlier."

"Okay, let's go. The quicker we get them all back in the book, the better." She takes hold of Harrison's arm and gives him a little shove to get him moving. Harrison nods and leads her towards the stairs at the back of the shop, which have been sectioned off to stop party guests from venturing to the upper levels. "Oh, and watch out for Pinocchio," she calls out to us over her shoulder. "He likes to flash people."

Chan wiggles over. "What's going on? Where's Harrison going, and who's that woman?" Dressed as Elvira, he's wearing a revealing black gown so tight that it looks like it was painted on.

"Olivia," I inform him, still trying to process everything.

"What's going on, Tris? Are you okay, honey?" Chan rubs my shoulder. "You're wearing your stress frown again."

"The short, short version"—Dusty draws his attention—"is that the book that opened earlier is apparently a magic book of fairy tales and can end up letting loose a whole menagerie of fairy-tale characters." She frowns thoughtfully. "I'm just going to check in quickly with Bruce and let him know we may have a situation on our hands… again."

Chan blinks slowly as Dusty disappears. "Excuse me? Did I just hear that right?"

"Fairy-tale creatures on the loose," Aidan summarises. "Like in Shrek . Whoa, do you think Shrek and Fiona are actually in there?"

"Um, they're not exactly classic fairy-tale characters." I wrinkle my nose. "Plus, I'm pretty sure DreamWorks owns the rights to them."

"Shame. It'd be cool to meet Donkey and Dragon."

Chan's eyes widen. "Christ, please tell me there are no actual dragons on the loose in Whitechapel?"

"God, I hope not," I whisper, and reach into my pocket to pull out my phone, hoping that fairy-tale creatures supposedly on the loose aren't responsible for the fact that my husband is suddenly MIA.

Before I have a chance to unlock the screen, the door to the bookshop crashes open and everyone turns to look. Even the music suddenly screeches to a halt. Dozens ofburlymen dressed as pirates flood the room, swords raised aloft.

And that's when the screaming starts.

It's absolute chaos. The party guests run shrieking in every direction, chased by the pirates. I grab Aidan and pull him protectively behind me, and Chan also moves in close to shield him.

Something catches the corner of my eye and draws my gaze to the doorway. My mouth falls open as an impossibly tall, impossibly broad man strides through.

He's got to be over seven feet tall, with long, dark, wavy hair and a long, thick black beard. He's wearing a velvet frock coat and waistcoat over a white shirt, black pantaloons, and leather boots, and a curved sword is sheathed at his waist.

Beside him is a similarly dressed man, slightly shorter but still over six feet tall, thickly muscled arms exposed thanks to the sleeves of his coat and shirt having been ripped away. In his hand he holds, with ease, a small, cylindrical cage and in it is?—

"Is that the Puck guy you were all talking about?" Aidan mutters.

Sure enough, looking very annoyed and quite cramped, is the little naked hobgoblin who'd been guzzling milk in Harrison's kitchen earlier on in the day.

"Give me the goblin," the black-bearded man commands, holding out his hand.

"Aye, Cap'n Blackbeard," says the man, holding the cage up to Blackbeard's face.

"Which one is it?" He shakes the cage. "Speak, vermin." He gives the cage another bone-rattling shake.

The one Olivia called Puck glares at him before finally pointing—directly at me.

"Him," Puck says grudgingly. "He's the one who opened the Gospodar."

"Seize him," Blackbeard bellows.

Before I know what's happening, one of his men grabs me. I lose my grip on my phone and it clatters to the floor, getting kicked away and lost in the melee as screaming guests run out into the street, pursued by a whole load of thirsty-looking pirates. I'm picked up as if I weigh nothing and slung overthe man'sshoulder. I kick and wriggle and beat my hands against his rock-hard back, but it's no good. I can't loosen his grip on me.

"Get off him," Aidan shouts angrily and steps forward.

"And what do we have here?" Blackbeard's shrewd gaze falls on Aidan standing beside Chan. "Davy? Is that you, my old friend?"

"Uh." Aidan glances at Chan, who nods slightly. "Yes." Aidan stiffens his back. "It is I, Davy Jones. Unhand that man lest ye be cast down to a watery grave in the depths of Davy Jones' locker! Um… arghhh." He finishes off with a little growl and aflourishof his clenched fist.

The room is now almost empty.All the party guestshavefled into the night. The remaining few of Blackbeard's men, those who aren't out chasing people through the streets, have taken up positions around the room, surrounding Aidan and Chan while I dangle helplessly from a buff pirate's shoulder.

Blackbeard stares for a long moment before crossing the room, the heels of his boots clicking ominously against the wooden floor, until he comes to a stop in front of Aidan, who is trying his hardest to channel his inner Bill Nighy.

Blackbeard's eyes narrow and he reaches up, ripping the fake tentacle beard from Aidan's face and tossing it to the floor. There's a collective sharp intake of breath from the assembled pirates, as if someone impersonating their beloved Davy Jones is truly sacrilegious.

"Lies!" He roars. "Seize the impostor!"

Aidan is grabbed much the same way I was and thrown over the shoulder of another one of Blackbeard's men.

And oh my days, that's a mistake.

Chan goes fucking feral.

I actually stop struggling against my captor, mesmerised as Chan bites and claws and tears out clumps of pirate hair. It's not every day you get to see several salty-looking sea dogs cowering at the five-foot pint of pure rage in a tight black dress currently clubbing one of their colleagues with a stiletto and shrieking like a harpy to get their fucking hands off his kid.

"Enough!" Blackbeard growls. He raises his fist and, unfurling his fingers, blows against his palm when Hurricane Chan turns in his direction. A cloud of sparkly dust hits Chan full in the face and he stumbles back, shaking his head. He gives a loud sneeze and sways, then his eyes roll back in his head and he crumples to the ground.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO CHAN!" Aidan screams, and fuck me, he's as feisty as Chan.

He goes wild. He claws and scratches at the man holding him until he has to have one of his friends help subdue the raging teenager.

"What did you do to him?" I demand, my concerned gaze fixed on the still form of my friend slumped on the floor.

Blackbeard laughs loudly. "Enchanted fairy dust. He"—he frowns—"she?"—he shakes his head as if it's of no consequence—"will sleep for a hundred years."

"A hundred years?" I yell. "Listen here, you massive bellend. You'd better wake him up pronto, or you're not going to like the consequences when Chan's boyfriend catches up with you."

"Yeah! What he said," Aidan snaps belligerently, glaring at Blackbeard.

"Oh, he'll wake up." Blackbeard chuckles. "All he needs is true love's kiss."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I hiss.

"Come!" Blackbeard announces. "To the Queen Anne's Revenge!"

I'm jostled about as the pirate carries me from the room, and I can see Aidan being carried out just behind us.

"Dusty!" I call out, hoping she can hear me. "Find Death!"