Witch is How Things Had Changed (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 25)

“I’m okay with this cocktail.”

“Nonsense. A hen night isn’t a hen night without shots.” She grabbed me by the hand and led me over to where everyone else was waiting. In front of them, on the bar, was a line of shots. “Okay, everyone. On three. One, two, three.”

Everyone threw back their shot. Everyone except me, that is. I threw mine over my shoulder.

“Another round of shots, barman!” Deli demanded.

Moments later, we repeated the exercise. Everyone downed their shot except for me. Once again, mine went over my shoulder.

“Hey!” someone yelled.

I turned around to see a young man, wiping his face. He must have been walking past when I’d thrown the shot.

“Sorry.” I grabbed him by the arm and led him a few feet down the bar, so he wouldn’t give the game away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Although, to be honest, I usually prefer to drink my shots.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“That’s okay. I take it that it’s your hen night.” He gestured to the T-shirt. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I’d only have to throw it away again.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed. “All the best for the wedding.”

“Thanks.”

***

When we’d finished at Bubbles, I would have gladly called it a day, but there was no chance of that. Deli led the parade of pink witches across the city centre to Mushroom, a new nightclub, which had opened only a few months earlier. It was so dark inside that I assumed they must actually be trying to cultivate said fungus. While no one was looking, I took off the T-shirt and dropped it into a waste bin.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to use the ‘fake cocktail’ trick this time because Deli insisted on buying the first round. Instead, I settled for something called Mushroom Fantasy. It was sludge coloured and tasted like vinegar, but apart from that, it was fantastic.

I’d forgotten just how bad the twins were at dancing. They would tell you that in the sup world they were the toast of the dancefloor, but here in the human world, they still looked like they were doing synchronised swimming, minus the water. Despite my best efforts to avoid the dancefloor, Deli had insisted we all join the twins.

Mad looked as though she was having about as much fun as I was.

“What time is it?” I shouted over the music.

“Almost one o’clock.”

“What time does this place close?”

“Six, I think.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

She wasn’t.

Somehow, I managed to last almost thirty minutes on the dancefloor. By that time, I was parched. I needed a long, cold, non-alcoholic drink.

The queues at the bar were insane. All except for one till where the barman was standing around, waiting for his next customer. Before anyone else could beat me to it, I made a beeline for him.

“Orange cordial, please. A large one with lots of ice.”

“Sorry, love. This till is for Mushroom Members only.”

I glanced at the long queues further down the bar. “How much does membership cost?”

“Sorry, membership is closed.”

“Please. Have mercy on me. I’m getting married next week.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I really am. Look!” I pointed to the T-shirt. The one that was no longer there.

“That’s a nice dress, but I still can’t serve you.”

Cursing under my breath, I joined one of the other queues. While I was waiting to be served, I kept my eye on the members-only till, and quickly realised that something strange was going on. The barman never once asked to see a membership card. Instead, he either served the customer immediately, or sent them away as he’d done with me. How did he know which customers were members? He couldn’t possibly have memorised the face of every member. And then it dawned on me. Everyone he served was a vampire. All other sups and humans were sent away.

Another millennium came and went before I was eventually served.

I downed half of the cold orange in one go, and was about to return to the fray when I noticed two vampires were at the so-called members-only till. It was none of my business, but it occurred to me that investigating what was going on would give me an excuse to postpone the torture of the dancefloor.

I found a quiet spot beyond the cloakrooms and made myself invisible. Back inside, I clambered, unnoticed, over the bar. By then, another three vampires were being served. The barman didn’t even ask them what they wanted to drink. Instead, he bent down and opened what appeared to be a safe. Only it wasn’t—it was a fridge full of bottles containing a dark red liquid. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was in them.

What do you mean, it’s just as well?



Back at the cloakroom, I reversed the ‘invisible’ spell, and made a phone call.

“Jill?” Daze sounded surprised to hear my voice. “Isn’t it your hen night tonight?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping you might be able to give me Blaze’s number.”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Fine, yeah. I have a tip-off for him.”

“Right. Are you ready?”

“Fire away.” I took down the number, and then gave Blaze a call.



When I got back to the dancefloor, I was surprised to find all of my party were seated at tables.

“How come you lot aren’t dancing?”

“There’s no room since that crowd arrived,” Amber pointed.

The dancefloor was full of old wrinklies—all shaking their booties. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you. And then I saw her.

“Grandma?” I turned to Aunt Lucy. “What’s she doing here?”

“Apparently, the bridge club finished early, so she persuaded them all to come here.”

At that moment, the music stopped, and the main lights came on. There was lots of banging and shouting, and then several uniformed police officers burst through the doors.

The one who appeared to be in charge called for everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to put an end to your fun, but I have to request that you all leave immediately.”

To the sound of much moaning and groaning, the nightclub slowly emptied.

“Thanks for the tip-off, Jill,” Blaze, dressed as a policeman, whispered as I walked past him.



Outside the club, Deli had gathered everyone together. Grandma and her cronies were there too.

“Don’t panic,” Deli said. “We’ll go to Toadstool.”

“What’s Toadstool?” I said to Mad.

“It’s another club. A bit like this one. It’s a couple of miles out of town.”

“I don’t think I can take any more of this.”

“Me neither.”

Deli had taken charge of the taxis. Grandma and her entourage took the first three. The twins, Aunt Lucy and Deli climbed into the next one.

“Get in you two,” Deli shouted. “There’s plenty of room.”

“It’s okay. We’ll take the next one and see you there.”

When the taxi pulled away, I turned to Mad. “Pizza?”

“I fancy a burger.”

“Okay. Burgers it is then.”





Chapter 13

“What time is it?” Jack groaned when I climbed out of bed.

“Seven.”

“Why are you getting up?”

“I have to go to the cat show, remember?”

“I feel like death.” He looked like it too.

“It’s your own fault. You must have really been putting it away last night.”

“Could you speak a little quieter, please? My head is pounding.” He rubbed his temple. “I only had three or four drinks.”

“And the rest. When the taxi dropped you home, you were singing at the top of your voice.”

“I wasn’t. Was I?”

“Goodness knows what the neighbours will think. No one wants to be woken by the laughing policeman at four in the morning.”

“What was I laughing at?”

“You weren’t. That’s what you were singing: The Laughing Policeman.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” He jumped out of bed and rushed to the loo.

“Would you like me to make you a nice, greasy fry-up?” I shouted through the toilet door, on my way past.

Snigger.



After a couple of slices of toast and a cup of tea, I went upstairs to get showered and dressed. Jack was back in bed, doing his best impression of a corpse.

“Feeling any better, Dearest?”

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