Page 87 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

“Relax, stud, it’s only from the waist up.” Dusty holds her hands up. “He’s surprisingly buff under those stuffy shirt-and-sweater combos, but…”

“But?” I reply.

“He’s covered in those symbols.” Dusty looks at the fading one still etched into her wrist.

Sam starts walking towards the door, his face a mask of absolute fury.

“Sam, wait!” I plant myself in front of him and brace my hands on his chest, but I only slow him down. My feet slide against the floor. “A little help, Danny.”

“What’s going on?” Danny asks.

“Creepy guy in a hood has Harrison stripped half naked and trussed up like a Christmas turkey in the main room, and Sam’s not taking it too well.”

“Fuck.” Danny grabs Sam, wrapping his arms around him to hold him in place as he struggles. “Sam… Sammy, just wait.”

“Would you be waiting if Tristan was in there?” he growls.

“I know exactly how you’re feeling, but if we go barging in there unprepared, we’re putting Harrison at more risk. Just take a moment to breathe.”

“I’ll breathe when I have him back.” Sam tries to struggle towards the door again, which is even harder for him now that he’s sandwiched between me and Danny, but he’s slowly inching towards the door despite our efforts. Damn, this guy’s had hisWeetabix.

“Okay, just wait,” I say a little breathlessly from the exertion of trying to hold him back. “I have an idea.”

Sam finally pauses. “What?”

I look over at Bruce. “We need backup. Three humans and two ghosts against a powerful witch who’s hell-bent on raising a demon?” I shake my head. “We need numbers. Bruce, can you call the other ghosts?”

“No.” He shakes his head, his expression regretful. “I’m sorry, Tristan, they’re all scared. They won’t listen to me, but they’ll come if you call.”

I frown. “What?”

“Tris, I know you don’t want to hear it, but there was a reason why you were chosen.”

I shake my head in denial. “I’m nobody special. I’m just some twat who can see dead people.”

“That’s just not true,” Bruce says gently. “Call them, they’ll come.”

I stare at him, torn between disbelief and the desperate desire to save my friend from a magic-wielding psycho.

“Trust me, Tris.”

Letting out a resigned breath, I release Sam and straighten up.

“What’s going on?” Danny says as Sam shrugs out of his grasp. “Can someone fill me in, please? Still the only one who can’t see ghosts, remember?”

“Your fiancé is about to go all ghost whisperer on us,” Sam says, a little of his panic banked and replaced with curiosity.

“What?” Danny replies in confusion.

“Just wait,” Sam says.

My stomach jolts as I look over his shoulder and see Viv standing behind him. This time she’s staring straight at me, something she hasn’t been able to do since the moment she was murdered.

I can see the pain in her eyes. I can see what it’s costing her to break through to me for this one moment in time, and I know I have to try, not just to save Harrison, but her too. For Viv.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. For some reason, a fragment of a memory floats to the surface—the very first time I came to the bookshop, Dusty at my side, freshly murdered and trying to convince me to help her. She’d convinced me to have a reading with Madame Vivienne. But from the moment I walked into the shop, I’d had a strange feeling, an awareness that I’ve unconsciously tuned out all the time I’ve been coming here since.

It’s back now and stronger than ever. I feel it ripple across my skin, prickling at my hair like static electricity, and I can hear voices, so many voices, just like that first time I entered the shop. Dozens of voices overlaying each other, snatches of conversations sounding like a badly tuned radio.