Chapter 6

" D anny, watch out!"

Sam grabs me and yanks me out of the way as several knights on horseback gallop past, colourful pennons snapping from the tips of their raised lances.

"Christ, that was close." I breathe heavily and look at the chaos in the street. The bookshop can't be far, but we keep getting turned around. I don't know how it's possible, but Whitechapel seems to be filled to the brim with fairy-tale creatures and characters. At least, that's what Sam and I think they are; that seems to be the only theme they have in common.

"Oh my god," Sam whispers.

I turn to look and have to blink several times, sure my eyes are playing tricks. It's Thor looking buff in his Asgardian armour, Mj?lnir in hand. His shoulder-length hair is blown back by the wind.

"Is he... running in slow motion, or is that me?"

"I don't think it's you." I frown in confusion. "There's something oddly familiar about him."

"Of course he's familiar," Sam replies. "It's Thor."

He really does look as if he's running in slow motion as he tosses his hair.

"Uncle Danny!" Thor calls out.

"It's Nick." I blink as he stops in front of us.

"Uncle Danny," he repeats, then pauses and looks me up and down, from my golden ringlets to the yellow gingham dress. "Did Chan pick your costume?"

"Don't ask." I sigh. I'm really never going to be allowed to forget this, I just know it.

Nick watches, a little wild-eyed, as a wolf wearing a grandmother-type nightgown and cap strolls past, hand in hand with a woman in a red cloak. "What the hell is going on?"

"We don't know. We're trying to get the bookshop, but we seem to be going in circles."

"Where's Uncle Tris?"

"At the bookshop," I reply worriedly. "Why aren't you there? I thought you were going to Chan's party with Aidan?"

"I was running late from my work placement at the hospital," he says. "What do you mean, you keep going in circles? We've been to the bookshop dozens of times."

"I know, but every time we head in that direction, we find ourselves somewhere else." I growl in frustration. "I can only assume it has something to do with magic, given that these are all fairy-tale creatures."

"Fairy tales?" Nick says sharply.

"Yes, why?"

He chews his lip, his brow furrowed in thought. "If it is magic… wow, that sounds really fucking weird to say… if it is magic stopping us from reaching the bookshop, maybe we need magic to take us there."

"Oh, sure," Sam says. "I'll just pop home and grab my magic carpet. It's a nippy little three-seater and gets great mileage."

"As fun as that would be"—Nick grins—"I was actually thinking about the wishing tree I passed just back there."

"A wishing tree?" I repeat.

"Yep. I thought I recognised it when I ran past, but I couldn't place it until you mentioned fairy tales. It was in a story Mum used to read me when I was little. If magic is real tonight, then wouldn't it stand to reason that the wishing tree would actually grant wishes? So all we'd have to do is wish for it to take us to the bookshop."

"Clever kid," Sam murmurs.

"Take us to the wishing tree." I pause. "Wow, that's a sentence I never thought I'd say with a straight face."

Nick chuckles and sets off at a fast pace, Sam and I keeping up right behind him. After a few minutes, we round a corner, and sure enough, there, in the middle of the bus lane and surrounded by a river of moss, is the most stunning tree I've ever seen. Its trunk and elegantly twisted branches are pure gold, and its lush canopy of leaves is a deep magenta.

"Wow," Sam whispers beside me.

"Come on." Nick marches up to the tree and we follow, our feet sinking into thesoft cushion of moss. "I'll do the wishing so the wires don't get crossed. Each of you put a hand on one of my shoulders and don't let go."

"Okay, Nick. This is your show." I take a deep breath and lay my palm on his right shoulder while Sam lays a hand on his left.

"I wish for us to be taken to the bookshop," he says loud and clear.

It happens so fast; everything dissolves around us and it feels like I've been yanked off my feet. There's a brief sensation of falling before I hit a hard surfacewith a pained groan, then two more bodies fall on top of me.

For a second, I lie still, trying to catch my breath after taking an elbow to my ribs and a knee to my groin. Eventually, we all roll away, disentangling ourselves from each other. I look up and recognise the occult bookshop. Even though it's Harrison's place and has been for months,I still think of it as Viv's,and it always makes me feel a little sad.

"Well, we made it, I guess." Nick pushes himself up.

"Take us to the bookshop," Sam mutters. "Lucky we didn't end up in Waterstones."

"It worked, didn't it?" Nick glances around the deserted shop. "Where is everyone?" he wonders aloud, and I haul my aching body off the floor.

I glance around and my worry ratchets up into the stratosphere. Thepartyseems to be over. Decorations have been torn apart, some of the fairy lights have been ripped down and dangle aimlessly, and the long table which had held finger foods has been overturned.

"Oh my god," Sam gasps. He rushes across the room. It's only then I see a lone black-clad figure lying unconscious on the floor.

"It's Chan!"Nick shouts as he joins Sam and dropsto his knees, reaching for Chan's throat to find a pulse. "He's alive."

I hurry closer, watching anxiously as my nephew peels back Chan's eyelids to check… I don't know what they're teaching him at nursing school. To check his pupils, I think?

"He doesn't seem to be injured." Nick frowns. "Chan?" He taps Chan's facegently, and when that doesn't work, he pushes his knuckles into Chan's breastbone. "Chan? Open your eyes."

Nothing.

"Pick up that table," Nick says, easily lifting Chan's petite form into his arms.

Sam and I both set the snacks table back on its feet, and Nick gently lays Chan down.

"What happened?" a voice interrupts, and I look up to see Harrison hurry into the room, clutching an old leatherbound book to his chest. A woman follows behind him, and when he shifts, I get a better look. With a jolt, I recognise Olivia, the witch who'd helped with the whole demon crisis.

"Prickles," Sam breathes in relief when he sees Harrison. "You're okay?"

"What happened?" he repeats, looking confused. "Where is everyone and what happened to Chan?"

"We were about to ask you the same thing," I say.

"What's going on?" A deep, authoritative voice cuts through our conversation, and I shift my gaze to where Death has appeared. He immediately moves to Chan's side, his eyes scanning Chan's unresponsive form. Touching his face tenderly, Death leans in and inhales slowly.

"Fae magic," he growls. "A sleeping curse."

"What can we do?" I ask, worried as hell. Chan's so still, and his skin looks almost grey.

"You? Nothing. But I can," Death murmurs, sliding a hand under Chan's head. He cradles the nape of Chan's neck and lowers his head to press his lips to Chan's.

"Seriously?" Sam mutters.

I watch as the colour seeps back into Chan's cheeks, turning his skin a pale pink. Suddenly, his arm comes up and wraps around Death's neck to yank him in closer. Death stumbles, caught off-balance, as Chan flings his other arm around Death's neck and deepens the kiss. One or possibly both of them moan, and Death lifts his leg onto the table so he's almost mounting Chan.

"Oh, okay, then." Nick flushes and averts his eyes, suddenly finding the ruined decorations on the ceiling fascinating.

Sam just grins and watches. Rolling my eyes, I turn to Harrison and Olivia, only to find Harrison staring at me contemplatively.

"Did Chan choose your costume?" he finally says, and I remember what I'm wearing.

"Gingerbread house in the woods?" Olivia asks.

"House with three bears."

"Yeah, that can happen." She nods as her amused gaze dances over the frilly dress.

"What can happen?" Sam tears his attention away from Death and Chan, who appear to be in their own little lust bubble.

"Besides the fairy-tale creatures being let loose, they can also draw you inside their stories. Last time this happened, a witch kidnapped my friends Mac and Jake because she thought they were Hansel and Gretel and wanted to eat them. Usually, you have to play the fairy tale out to escape. In the end, they had to cook her in her own oven."

Sam stares."I don't even know what to say to that."

We turn as Chan gasps and pushes Death away, sitting up abruptly. "Oh my god. Aidan," he says, looking around the room.

"What about Aidan?" Nick's brows drawn down in concern.

"I'm guessing nothing good," Olivia murmurs, "given the current situation. Okay, Harrison, time to get everyone back in the book."

"Back in what book?" I growl in frustration. "What the hell is going on and where's Tristan?"

"This"—Olivia points at the book Harrison is still clutching—"is The Gospodar, the master copy of all fairy tales. When it's opened, the fairy-tale creatures escape and cause havoc. Only the person who opened it can put them all back inside. Which is what Harrison is about to do."

"I can't." He shakes his head.

"Of course you can, it's easy," Olivia replies.

"No, you don't understand." He frowns. "I'm not the one who opened the book. Tristan is."

"Well, where's Tristan?" Olivia is starting to look a little exasperated.

"That's exactly what I want to know," I snap. "Will someone please tell me where my husband is?"

"He's been kidnapped by pirates," Chan says. "And so has Aidan."

"What?" Nick and I shout.

"Okay, at ease, Hayes squared," Sam says calmly. "Chan, why don't you tell us exactly what happened."

"Blackbeard showed up, and he had Puck in a cage."

"He had a puck in a cage?" Sam repeats in confusion. "Like a hockey puck?"

"No, like a naked, hairy hobgoblin named Puck," Chan clarifies.

"Wait a minute," Olivia interrupts. "He had captured Puck? Why?"

"He wanted Puck to tell him who'd opened the book. When Puck pointed out Tristan, theygrabbedhim. Aidan tried to stop them, but they took offence to the fact that he wasn't a real pirate but instead his costume was Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean , so they grabbed him too. I tried to stop them, but Blackbeard blew his black sparkly dust in my face and it was lights out. I don't even remember hitting the floor."

"It was a sleeping draught. Fae magic. You would have slept for a hundred years, and there is only one cure," Death says matter-of-factly.

"What?" Chan asks.

"True love's kiss," he replies, as if it should be obvious.

Chan melts.

"Oh, please." Sam rolls his eyes. "Will you two knock it off? I can practically see little hearts shooting out of your eyes, and it's making me nauseous. Some of us are still single, you know."

I open my mouth to say something when we're interrupted.

"The Gospodar? Again, Olivia?" a cool and slightly exasperated voice says.

"Actually, this time it wasn't me." Olivia turns to face the intruder. "What are you doing here, Hades?"

He shrugs. "I thought I'd take a little constitutional topside."

Olivia's eyes narrow as she purses her lips. "You're hiding from your wife again, aren't you?"

Hades sighs. "The souls always get a little rambunctious around this time of the year when the veil of life and death is at its thinnest. It makes her a bit cranky. So I'm giving her some space. I'll return to the Underworld with a little something special for her. You know how she loves those sweet treats from that little patisserie in Brooklyn."

"That's sweet." Olivia smiles at him affectionately.

"When you've been married for several millennia, it's the little things that count."

I can't believe Olivia is just standing there in the middle of yet another supernatural crisis, during which my husband appears to have been kidnapped by a fictional pirate, and having a calm conversation with an ancient god about New York pastries.

I'm freaking out about Tristan, but I don't dare interrupt. I mean, after all, it's the Hades…

The man is gorgeous. For several long seconds, I'm stunned into immobility and can do nothing but stare at his handsome face. His jet-black hair has a bluish hue to it, and he's wearing an expertly tailored suit. Come to think of it, he looks familiar.

Why does he look familiar?

My gaze shoots across to Death, who also has jet-black hair bordering on blue and is also wearing an immaculately tailored suit, and his face… well, there's enough of a difference, yes, but they could pass for brothers. A similarity that I'm not the only one who has noticed.

Chan looks back and forth between Hades and Death. It's Death, however, who has snagged my attention. He's… he's blushing . His cheeks are pink! And I don't think I've ever seen that expression on his face before.

"D, honey," Chan says, not as quietly as he perhaps should. "Why do you look like Hades?"

"Do I?" he replies nonchalantly. "I hadn't noticed."

"Did you… did you model your human look on the God of the Underworld?"Chan istrying and failing to hold back a wide smile.

"What?" Death says as his blush deepens. "I happen to be an admirer of his work. He has the lowest rate of complaints of any of the hell dimensions. I hear there's a waiting list! Souls are actively choosing Hades over the Christian version of hell, which is so poorly managed, don't even get me started. But the system for soul management Hades has instituted in the Underworld is very efficient, not to mention incredibly elegant. "

"Oh my god!" Chan grins. "Are you fanboying over him?"

"Why, thank you," Hades says, having clearly heard Death's words. "It is nice to be appreciated. I do sometimes feel somewhat misunderstood. My brother is so much worse than me. Zeus is a spoiled, whiny man-child who'll nail anything with a pulse, be it man, woman, or beast. Honestly, I've lost count of how many half-godling nieces and nephews I have, yet I'm the one with the bad reputation, simply because I deal in souls and live in an underworld."

"I know what you mean." Death nods. "I have the same problem. Not the underworld part, but I do have a brother who is a bit of nightmare. He just recently tried to escape into this world to cause utter chaos and carnage. Plus, mortals seem to think I'm inherently evil because I reap souls and my true countenance is a formless death shroud. I mean, it's just rude to make assumptions based on someone's job and appearance."

"Right?" Hades agrees. "It's so nice to meet someone who gets it, and I must say I am a huge fan of your work. The Black Death? I really must commend you, that was just beautiful attention to detail. True craftsmanship."

"That's very kind." Death flushes with pleasure. "But it really pales in comparison to the river of souls. I mean, wow. And as for Tartarus?—"

"Thank you." Hades gives a small, self-deprecating smile. "Persephone and I do try."

"How do you keep the souls in line?"

"Torture," Hades replies brightly. "Sometimes just the threat is enough. The trick is to wield itcorrectly. Torture is a precision tool to be used with a delicate hand, not a club. I only had to flay a few souls, and the rest just fell right in line like dominoes."

"Not really my area of expertise."

"You know, you should come for supper," Hades says. "Persephone does an excellent heart and liver dish in a really delicate black bean sauce. I don't know how she gets the balance just right, but you can really taste the damnation. In fact, you should bring your partner." Hades gaze trails over to Chan, who has climbed off the table and is now standing next to Death, pressed against his side.

"He's human," Death replies.

"Not a problem." Hades waves a hand. "It wouldn't be the first time we've had a living soul visit Hades. Is it, Olivia?" he throws over his shoulder. She shakes her head.

I turn my attention back to Chan, who is staring at Hades and then glances up at Death with a small frown. "Can't wejust go to aToby Carvery?"

"I hate to break up this mutual lovefest you two have going on," Olivia interrupts, "but we really are running out of time."

"What do you mean, running out of time?"I ask, the sense of renewed panic now threatening to bubble over.

"I mean, you have until midnight to get all the creatures back in the book unless you want them permanently running amok along the streets of Whitechapel." She frowns. "What concerns me is that they went to all the trouble of capturing Puck so they could find Tristan specifically. If they know he's the one who opened the book and therefore the only one who can force them back inside, it doesn't bode well for your husband."She wincesin sympathy. "We need to find him before they decide a more permanent solution is required to stop him from banishing them."

"Fuck," I hiss. "What do we do?"

"We need to find them first," Harrison chimes in.

"Good idea." Olivia nods. "You should do that."

"Me?" Harrison exclaims, clutching the Gospodar tighter. "How am I supposed to find them? Just wander around the streets of Whitechapel looking for a really big boat?"

"Ship," Sam corrects helpfully. "I believe they're called ships, Prickles."

Harrison sends him a glare.

"Have you still not learned to travel by witchsmoke?" Olivia sighs in exasperation before pointing at him with intent. "You and I are going to have words after this is over."

She huffs out an annoyed breath and then disappears in a violent swirl of purple smoke.

"She does that," Hades observes. "She's a lot like Persephone, actually. She can get quite cranky when she's under pressure."

Before anyone can say anything in response, Olivia reappears. "Okay, they're a few blocks that way." She points to the left. When I stare at her, she rolls her eyes. "Fine, streets, whatever. They're in that direction, but they've dropped anchor. Doesn't look as if they're moving."

"Okay, let's go." Chan pulls off his one remaining stiletto and tosses it over his shoulder, leaving him standing in fishnets.

"Uh, Chan," I say carefully, not wanting to put him in any more danger. "Maybe you should stay here and rest. You did just get smacked in the face with a whole load of fairy mojo."

"That sounded really smutty." Sam smirks, causing Harrison to glare even harder. "Just sayin'."

"Fuck that," Chan says fiercely. "That sea-shanty-singing, seven-seas-rampaging, rum-swilling cocksickle has my kid. I'm going to rip that black beard off his fucking face one hair follicle at a time."

"Bloodthirsty little thing, isn't he?" Hades remarks mildly.

Death beams. "Isn't he perfect?"