Page 96 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about Dusty.” Dad chuckles.

“What do you mean?” I ask, hope blossoming in my chest.

“It’s going to take a helluva lot more than a demon to finish her off.” Dad looks up at the ceiling. “Listen…”

I strain to hear, but he’s right. There is something, faint music that seems to be getting louder. It’s familiar but I can’t quite pinpoint it. It’s dancing on the edge of my mind. I’ve heard it before, I know I have. Then slowly recognition dawns.

“Is that…” I tilt my head and listen again. “Is that the Miss America pageant theme song in an angelic choral harmony?”

Danny starts laughing and I turn to see what he’s looking at. A bright white light has appeared and at its heart is my beautiful, perfect Dusty dressed as a beauty queen. She’s wearing the biggest, sparkliest white princess gown, straplesswith a sweetheart neckline. The skirt is enormous with layers and layers of net and tulle scattered with Swarovski crystals. Nestled atop her big blonde wig is the biggest, glitteriest crown I have ever seen in my life. A white sash edged in gold with the words SPIRIT GUIDE written in an elegant curling script is draped across her body and she’s holding a massive bouquet of flowers balanced along one arm while she waves with the other hand.

“DUSTY!” I gasp.

“Boo!” She tosses the flowers over her shoulder, not seeing a somewhat bewildered-looking Bruce drop the roll of duct tape and catch the bouquet.

I launch myself at her, hoping she’s somewhat solid and I’m not about to painfully face-plant on the broken floor. Thankfully, there’s enough magic mojo floating around that she collides with me and we hug each other fiercely.

“Oh my god, I thought I’d lost you!” I tell her angrily. “You took ten years off my life and I’m pretty sure I’ve gained several grey hairs.”

“You’re not even slightly grey, and sorry hashtag not sorry.” She pulls back so she can look at me. “There was no way I was letting that thing near you if I could help it.”

“But what happened?” I shake my head in confusion. “It was like the Thanos finger snap. You just… dissolved into dust.”

“Nope,” she says proudly. “Well, yes, that did happen, but apparently that was just the final step! The ultimate selfless act. Because I sacrificed myself for you, I passed and I’m now a full-fledged spirit guide.” She waves a hand in front of her sash.

Bruce scowls. “You sacrificedwhat?”

“I’m okay, baby, I promise.” She picks up her skirts and skips over to him like she’s Cinderella and she has a bunch of happy little woodland creatures following her. Leaning in, she kisses him thoroughly and, when she’s finished, leaves him lookinglove drunk and clutching a bunch of slightly crushed rainbow-coloured flowers.

“I got the full whammy!” Dusty declares, throwing her hands up and casting, of all things, a rainbow in the middle of the devastated shop. “I’m like a supercharged, next-level, higher being. This shit is awesome!”

“Well, your friend seems very happy,” Olivia says as she approaches with Sam and Harrison.

“Harrison! Are you okay?” I ask in concern.

He’s pale and leaning heavily against Sam, whose jacket he’s wearing over his naked torso. Although there’s dried blood on his skin, I can see the demon symbols are gone and so is his wound, apart from a thin, slightly reddened scar.

“I’m okay,” Harrison replies, looking exhausted.

“We should get you to a hospital.”

“No need.” He shakes his head, swaying slightly as Sam’s grip on him tightens to keep him steady. “Olivia healed me.”

“You did?” I turn to stare at her. “You can do that?”

She shrugs. “I’m not as good at it as my great-aunt was, but I can manage the basics. Harrison will be fine, he just needs a few days’ rest.”

“Thank you.” I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles and then glances over at the wrecked floor. “The trap is closed and dormant now, but it held a demon and the ground will always bear the scars.”

“What was that thing you did with the purple smoke,”–I give a little swirly gesture with my hand–“when you first arrived?”

“It’s witch smoke. You must have seen it loads of times? Your friend…” She glances at Harrison.

Harrison looks at her as if he doesn’t know what she’s talking about and shakes his head.

“You can’t travel by witch smoke?”