Prim opens the cottage door and leads us through a dusty, cobweb-draped living room, the seventies-style, flower-patterned furniture all wrapped up in plastic. Guess no one has used this particular gateway to the Underworld in quite a while. We step into a dark and silent kitchen, then through a creaky screen doorway leading out onto the cottage’s back patio. There, amongst the requisite glass-and-wicker furniture, my eyes fall upon a large Jacuzzi in the center of the yard. Unlike everything else in the cottage, which has clearly sat unused for years, the Jacuzzi is lit up with rotating red, green, and purple lights, the steam from the hot water rising up into the night air. I glance over at Prim.
“Hot tub time machine to Hell?” I query.
He chuckles. “Something like that.”
“Classy.”
“Well, it does help people warm up to the idea,” Race says with a laugh. “Get it? Warm up?”
I roll my eyes. “Wow. You totally missed your calling as a comedian.”
He grins wickedly. “Well, let’s get to it, shall we?” he suggests, pulling down his skinny jeans and revealing a pair of Union Jack–themed boxer briefs. Then he starts wrestling with his shirt. “Party in the hot tub!” he calls as he flings the shirt aside, then plugs his nose with his fingers before cannonballing in to the tub.
I leap back to avoid getting splashed, tumbling right into Jareth, who I didn’t realize was standing so close behind me. I flail, losing my balance. He grabs me just in time—saving me from a nasty bruise on the patio floor. His strong hands, gripping my arms, send a longing chill down my spine.
I turn to give him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” I say, looking up into his eyes. I realize he hasn’t let go of me yet and it’s all I can do not to cover his tormented face with kisses and tell him everything will be okay.
He blushes, dropping his hands quickly as if I’m a hot potato, taking a step back and putting distance between us. “I didn’t want you to fall,” he mutters, dropping his eyes to the floor.
“Well, I appreciate that,” I say, giving him a sad smile. It’s nice to know, at least, when push comes to shove, he can’t help but care. Then I turn back to the hot tub. “Well, here goes nothing,” I say, kicking off my shoes and readying to pull off my shirt. I don’t relish the idea of skinny-dipping alongside Death, my sponsor, and my ex-boyfriend, but I’m pretty sure all the swimsuit shops are closed at midnight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Race raising an amused eyebrow.
“What?” I demand.
He chuckles. “As much as I do admire your willingness to strip down to your birthday suit in order to save your sister, I would feel remiss in failing to mention it’s not entirely necessary in this case.”
I look up, surprised, dropping my shirt back down. “Oh?”
“These are magical waters,” Prim explains. “They won’t drench your clothes.”
“Um, okay. So why are you in your boxers then?” I query, gesturing to the pile of clothes Race left behind on the deck.
“Bad habits die hard, baby.”
I snort. “Oh I see. Rock stars and Jacuzzis. Really, Race, isn’t that a little cliché even for you?”
“Please. If you looked up cliché on Wikipedia, you’d find this bloke’s picture,” Prim interjects.
Race frowns. “Only because you uploaded it there and I haven’t a bloody clue how to take it down.”
“Well maybe you should have thought of that before you drained our last webmaster dry.”
Race looks over at me with mock exasperation. “See what I have to put up with, my little Rayne drop?” he asks, shaking his head. “And yet I do it all willingly, for you and your lovely, lovely sister!”
I’m about to reply but a growl erupts behind me. “Why are you even here?”
I whirl around, eyes widening. Jareth is staring at Race with venom in his eyes, his hands clenched into fists.
“Ooh, the brooding one speaks at last!” Race crows. “I was beginning to think you were a mute, mate.”
Jareth scowls at the gleeful rock star, the hatred radiating off his body in waves. “I’m not your mate. And we don’t need you here,” he barks out. “You’re not a part of this. So why don’t you just go home to your groupies and leave us alone?”
Race shrugs. “Because at this hour, all good groupies have gone to bed with other rock stars,” he says impishly. “And I, for one, hate to sleep alone. Besides, I’m little Raynie Day here’s personal rehab sponsor. And she might need some moral support.”
“Since when were you able to support anything moral?” I snort, unable to resist.
Race gives me a mock offended look. “You slay me, Slayer.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
A loud shattering sound interrupts our banter. I turn just in time to see the patio table crash to the ground, glass flying everywhere. Whoa. Did Jareth do that? A quick glance at his bleeding fist gives me the answer before I can ask.
“Okay, okay!” Prim cries out hastily. “Let’s not muck up my entire security deposit in one night, shall we? Everyone who’s going to Hell, get in the hot tub, pronto. Charon’s Ferry closes at two and I for one do not want to be sitting on the banks of the River Styx all night long, thank you very much.”
“Fine,” Jareth grumbles, wiping his hand on his pants and climbing into the tub. I follow, trying to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look in my direction. I sigh. Race chuckles to himself, observing the scene. A moment later I feel a hand on my knee. I slap it away, giving him an annoyed look. He just laughs again. Jareth shoots him a suspicious stare, at which he grins widely and starts humming the theme song to The Love Boat.