Page 19 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

“Yeah,” said Joe, tilting his head to enjoy another kiss. “I guess we should get back to that evil princess situation that we haven’t mentioned once this whole trip.”

Percy, agreeably segueing into the next chapter while peeking into Joe’s bags, asked, “Have you ever had krappin an’ stap?”

Joe’s fine eyes cut across sharply. “Is that a trick question?”

Percy watched him, awaiting his reaction as he revealed, “It’s offal, mixed with suet and oats, stuffed into fish heads, then they boil the lot in seawater.”

More abhorred than he was at seeing Dubois’s exploded body, or a room full of dying neo-Nazis, or even when they were almost suffocated by soul-eaters, Joe gasped out, “They serve them just like that? Eyes and all?”

“Aye, eyes and all. A plate full of them. Staring up at you. Awaiting their fate.”

“Percy, that’s disgusting.” Then on the same breath, “Do you know, I think there’s something very wrong with people’s fetishisation of peasant food. What is this self-degradation that drives people to such extremes?”

“Clearly they need God,” Percy suggested.

“I’m not eating that,” Joe declared, ignoring the slight slight. “I can just eat potatoes, can’t I? I’ll eat potatoes every day while we’re there.”

“Mmm,” agreed Percy. “We’ll set you up with a nice bowl of clapshot.”

Joe scowled. “What now?”

“Maybe a festy cock?”

“Are you going to be like this the whole time we’re in Scotland?”

Percy grinned. “Or maybe you’d prefer some rumbledethumps.”

“You said we were going to Lerwick,” Joe grumbled. “Not Hell.”

“Only a culinary hell, darling.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“But obviously,” Percy said, letting out a heavy breath and becoming a little more serious with it, “all that pales in comparison to what’s probably waiting for us at Cleo’s mansion, Barmiston Hall.”

Joe fell into a quiet, trepidatious reflection at the mention of the place.

“Are you sure you’re in?” asked Percy. “Althea could use a steady friend in London if you’d rather go visit her. Because whatever’s waiting there in Scotland… From what Althea told us, it wants blood. And it’s probably desperately hungry by now. This is undoubtedly going to be a harrowing experience.”

Joe pulled Percy’s arm back around his waist. “And then there’s the crapping to deal with.”

“Krappin,” Percy corrected, manoeuvring Joe in front of him and taking his hands. “Insult to injury, to be sure. So this is your out.”

“Are you kidding? You and me, a dangerous supernatural killer, and a haunted inn in the middle of nowhere, Scotland? As though I’d miss that.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think it’s haunted?”

Joe held his gaze. “Isn’t it?”

Percy’s lips slipped to the side in a resigned sort of gesture, and he said, “I haven’t got the full details from Leo yet.”

“Better call him then.” He kissed Percy’s cheek. “Don’t worry. We can take it. Whatever it is. So long as we’re together.”

“Always,” Percy replied, heart warming with Joe’s ever-growing confidence in the two of them.

And so they ate and packed, and Percy did call Leo, and Percy did decide to save the full details regarding their accommodation for discussion at a later time.

They left the hotel to catch their flight, and before long, they’d arrived in Aberdeen, ready to board the ferry to Lerwick, both of them hoping, after their last adventure, it would be smooth sailing.

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