‘The good thing,’ Bob said, once the last of the danger had passed, ‘is that we get to go home and sleep in our own beds.’

I pointed at the letter opener, still hanging from the belt around my waist. ‘You can go to your own bed whenever you want.’

‘I don’t tend to sleep in there any more.’

I was surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. It’s much more comfortable snuggling up to Brochan. Do you know he talks in his sleep?’

I wondered if the merman was aware that he had a sleeping companion. Deciding it was probably better not to know, I kept my mouth shut and jogged to the car, got into the front seat and started the engine. The sense of failure still hung over me like a cloud.

I checked my watch; it had just gone half past six. The night was still very young. ‘You know, Bob,’ I said, as casually as I could, ‘it’s been quite a stressful day. And you really were fabulous ‒ you were a great lookout. We might not have rescued Candy but I did pick up lots of shiny new Gifts which I can use in all sorts of situations.’

‘I was magnificent, wasn’t I?’ Bob beamed, bouncing up and down on the dashboard.

‘We should have a drink to celebrate,’ I said. ‘You know, wind down and prepare for the journey home.’

Bob considered. ‘I’m not sure that drink-driving is a good idea, Uh Integrity.’

‘I’ll have a Coke but you don’t need to abstain.’

‘Hmm. There’s a great place in Dundee that does the most amazing mango daiquiris.’

‘Yum,’ I said unconvincingly. ‘I was thinking Perth would be a better idea. It’s closer to home.’

‘Last time we went to Perth you streaked naked down the high street. I’m not sure the good people of that fair city want to see you again.’

‘I didn’t streak. I just happened to be in my underwear when a Fomori demon showed up.’

‘One and the same. Byron Moncrieffe might find your jiggly bits attractive but you need a good personal trainer to…’ He paused. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said suspiciously. ‘Where exactly in Perth were you thinking of going?’

I smiled innocently. ‘I’ve heard some nice things about the Haven.’

He put his hands on hips. ‘And I have it on good authority that the Haven is closed for a private party tonight. Byron Moncrieffe’s stag party.’

The corners of my mouth lifted. ‘Well, now that he’s taken, I need to find a new bachelor, don’t I?’

Bob shook his head dismally. ‘This is going to end in tears.’

***

I’d never been inside the Haven but the place was much as I expected. Loud music thumped and I swore I could taste the tinge of tequila in the air.

A burly Bauchan was on the door, no doubt to prevent anyone who wasn’t on the stag party list from getting in. I had more wiles than that, however. Rather than approach the front, I skirted round the side of the building, weaving in and out of empty beer barrels until I found the back entrance. There, inhaling deeply on a glowing cigarette was a young, pretty human woman wearing a large coat. Handy. I’d even put a bet on with Taylor at this point that she wasn’t wearing much underneath.