Page 95 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

I turn slowly, my heart pounding, and find my dad now standing in front of me. The insane white glow he’d blanketed us in earlier has now banked so it looks more like an aura than his own personal spotlight.

“Dad,” I whisper.

He looks just like I remember from my childhood, not the shadow of a man he became in the end. His hair is just like mine, dark wild curls. He’s no longer wearing glasses and his green eyes are clear and focused. For the first time in a long while, my dad is looking at me and really sees me.

“Dad,” I say again. It comes out as a choked sob.

Suddenly I’m engulfed in his arms, being held tightly. I’m able to smell his favourite aftershave and it only makes me sob harder. My head is throbbing and my throat is hoarse, although I think that’s less the crying and more the wholedemon trying to choke mething. I don’t know how long Dad holds me for, but finally, I suck in a breath and pull back.

“Feel better?” Dad smiles and I feel his hand against my head as he brushes an errant lock of hair back.

I nod and sniff loudly, blinking as I see a neatly folded white handkerchief being handed to me. “Danny.” I take the hankie and reach for him, pulling him closer into my side. “Come meet my dad.”

“Danny,” Dad says, his eyes softening with affection. “Of course I know who you are.” He reaches out and cups Danny’s cheek. “Thank you for taking such good care of me. And of Tristan.” Danny nods, his eyes wet and his cheeks pink as he chews the corner of his lip. “I remember all of it and I couldn’t have found a better man to love my son if I’d created you myself.”

“Thank you, Martin,” Danny replies, his voice a little shaky with emotion. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to you straight away.” Dad turns to me. “I know how hard that must have been for you.”

“I threw a lamp at Death.”

Dad laughs delightedly. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you. He is, after all, very fond of you and your friends.”

“What does it say about my life that being friends with The Grim Reaper barely rates a four on the Everett Scale?”

“The Everett Scale?” Dad tilts his head questioningly.

“It’s the scale I invented to rate the weirdness that is my life on a scale of one, beingoh goody I can see dead people, to ten andholy shit, that’s a naked demon crawling out of the floor of a bookshop.”

Dad laughs again. “I have missed being able to talk to you.”

“How is it you can touch me?”

“Like your friend Harrison said, this place is supercharged with psychic energy, even more so given recent events,” Dad explains, and how I’ve missed that teacher-like tone he always got when he was explaining something to me.

“Why couldn’t I see you when you…”

“When I died?” Dad says. I nod. “It’s not that complicated, but at the same time, it kind of is. I can’t explain it all now, it’s not the right time, but let’s just say I needed time to heal. I’d spent years being trapped inside a mind that had become a prison and in a body that was failing. When I was finally free, it was… disorienting. Your mother helped me through those initial days as I came back to myself and got used to being dead.”

“Mum?” I breathe. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she told me she saw you a couple of Christmases ago.”

“I thought that was a dream.” I frown.

“It’s never just a dream,” he says, like he knows something I don’t. “Tristan, I’m so proud of you.”

“I really didn’t do anything. Honestly, we’d have been royally fucked if the American lady with the flamey bow thingy”—I mime drawing the string on a bow—“hadn’t shown up and shoved the scary naked demon back into the ground.”

“Yes, admittedly, you wouldn’t have been able to handle a demon. No one can. Well, except Olivia, but like she said, that’s a long story. You, however, have your own story.” He glances at Danny. “Both of you do. And you’ve barely scratched the surface of what you are actually capable of.”

“Well, that sounds…” I search for the right words. “Marginally terrifying? I mean, we’ve met Death, stopped a chaos monster, and just barely escaped being used as a demon’s chew toy. How much more is out there?”

“More than you can possibly imagine, Jelly Bean,” Dad says.

Suddenly, Bruce appears, holding up a roll of silver tape. “I found some duct tape. What’d I miss?” He looks around and my stomach drops as I remember what happened. “Where’s Dusty?”

“Bruce…” My voice catches in my throat, a wave of intense pain crashing through me. “Dusty… she…”