Page 25 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

“Oh, shit,” Sam mumbles. “My insurance won’t cover that.”

“Honey?” Chan looks over at Death pleadingly, poking his bottom lip out in an appealing pout.

“Mortals.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m going to have to call in a lot of favours.”

Chan walks back over to him. “But I’ll be very appreciative.” He smiles as he presses up against Death.

Death tucks the peacock under his arm like a rugby ball and slides his other arm around Chan’s waist, drawing him in. He buries his face in Chan’s neck and kisses him softly. “How appreciative?”

“Very.” Chan’s mouth curves slowly. “Especially since I haven’t seen you properly in weeks. In fact, I may just appreciate you. All. Night. Long.”

“Oh my god. Get a room, you two.” Dusty rolls her eyes.

“Like you and Bruce are any better,” I point out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Death takes Chan’s mouth, unconcerned with the rest of us in the room, and kisses him deeply.

“Tonight,” Chan whispers with a lazy, satisfied smile.

In the blink of an eye, Death is gone, and so are the peafowl, the crown—although he did leave the thrones. Not sure how I’m going to explain that one to potential guests who aren’t in our weird secret club. I glance out of the window and the tank is also gone, as are the people. The damaged cars are as good as new. Only the leaning lamppost remains.

“What on earth happened last night?” Harrison asks, his gaze skimming over Sam’s outfit and traffic cone, Dusty’s stockings, and Danny’s bare chest.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” I reply. “Seriously, I had one drink.One. And I can’t remember anything. It’s just one giant blank.”

“Me too,” Danny adds.

“Same.” Sam nods.

“Same that.” Chan lifts his hand.

“I wasn’t drinking at all,” Dusty pipes up, “and I also can’t remember anything. Which is pretty worrying.”

“What were you all drinking?” Harrison frowns.

“That,” I point to a half-full bottle of gin on the table.

“Just that one bottle?” He asks and picks it up as I nod.

“I swear we only had one drink each. You can see how much is left.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It was Madam Viv’s. Danny and I stopped by the bookshop yesterday. We were given the keys and just wanted to check on the place. We found Viv’s stash under the sales counter, so we swiped a bottle to have a drink in her memory.” I shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Harrison unscrews the lid of the bottle. He sniffs the contents and pulls back sharply. “Shit,” he hisses, and I’m momentarily taken aback. Harrison is so prim that I don’t remember ever hearing him swear.

“You definitely only had one glass each? What size?”

Chan picks a small tumbler off the table. “About two-thirds of this. Why? What’s wrong?”

“This gin has been spiked,” Harrison states with a pinched expression.

“Spiked with what?” Chan stares at the bottle in Harrison’s hand. “It just tasted like gin to me. I’d have known if it was mixed with another form of alcohol.”

He scowls. “It’s not spiked with more alcohol, it’s spiked with magic.”

“Magic?” I repeat. “Seriously?”