“Nonononononono,” I chanted in a whisper as I sprinted around my suite like my feet were on fire. “Archer can’t come here. This is awful. If he dies, I’ll be so pissed at him. I mean, I’m already pissed at him, but I will be the mac daddy of pissed if that ass monkey bites it. What in the Seven Seas is he thinking?”

The hushed muttering was due to the fact Thornycraft had fallen asleep on my couch. I glanced over at my new buddy and calmed a bit. He was ridiculously adorable in his sleep. Well, he snored, but even that was kind of cute. I’d covered him up with a fluffy blanket and put a pillow beneath his fuzzy head. I’d also placed my stuffed Patrick starfish in his hands. The thousand year old Pirate latched onto the toy in his sleep like a small child. For some reason, the ancient idiot kind of broke my heart. The fact that he was ready to go after anyone gunning for me might have had something to do with my affectionate feelings for him, but there was more.

Thornycraft was sweet and kind. He was also an arse and not real stellar in the brains department, but that was part of his charm. Even though I was aware he possessed very powerful magic, I had no idea what kind of immortal being he was. Yet somehow I felt motherly towards the little shit. Whatever. I wasn’t going to fight it. I needed friends and apparently so did he.

“Swimmin’ Hooker,” Thornycraft said in a groggy voice as he sat up from his nap still clutching my stuffed animal. “Are ye okay?”

“Umm… no—not exactly.”

“Did the fat arsed little person show up and try to eighty-six ye?” he asked, jumping to his feet and glancing around wildly. “I’ll send the scallywag to Davy Jones’ locker faster than ye can blink yer eye. He’ll be dancin’ the hempen jig. Where is he?”

“It’s not Cupid,” I quickly assured my new BFF. “It’s the other dude.”

“Johnson-man-tool?” he asked.

“Yesssssssss,” I said, pulling on my wild green locks. “He says he’s on his way here which is all kinds of not good. If Poseidon sees him, he’s a goner.”

Thornycraft tilted his head to the side and grinned. “Methinks ye might like Johnson-man-tool.”

“I do not like him,” I insisted. “I just don’t want him to die.”

“And why’s that, little hooker?”

He had me there. I really didn’t know. What I did know was that the world would be a much less interesting place without Archer in it. However, that didn’t mean I liked him.

“I don’t have time to figure that out right now,” I snapped. “The jackhole said to meet him on the beach in fifteen minutes.”

“Well, then, we’d better get to the beach to greet yer Johnson-man-tool. Better us than Poseidon… or Gods forbid, that fat-arsed, galley-hoppin’, cutlass-flappin’ bilge-wanker,” he said, putting his tricorn on his head and smoothing out the outfit I’d conjured for him.

“Wait. What?” I asked completely perplexed. Since I wasn’t fluent in Pirate, I wasn’t quite sure what he’d actually said.

“Let’s get to yer Johnson-man-tool before Cupid does,” Thornycraft interpreted himself for me.

“Sweet hell and seashells,” I gasped out. “You’re right. Let’s go!”

The bright midmorning sun beat down on my head, yet I felt chilled to the bone. My silky sea green sarong brushed my bare legs in the breeze and my jeweled bikini top sparkled in the sunlight. I’d even quickly put on some pale peach lip-gloss and emerald earrings before we’d left my suite. Thornycraft had been smart enough not to comment. He’d seen me in action when I was pissed too many times.

At least I’d had my wits about me enough to magically conjure up a bunch of shark infested water signs. The paying human guests skedaddled off the beach so fast it made me giggle. Thankfully the rest of my family and soon-to-be family were busy with wedding preparations. The beach was deserted except for Thornycraft and me.

“Do ye think the pontoon splinter is gonna return the stolen enchantment to the bulbous baby?” Thornycraft asked as he scanned the ocean with his spyglass.

“He said it wasn’t necessary,” I told him as I too scanned the horizon.

My stomach was in knots. I’d had secret fantasies about Archer coming to the Mystical Isle for decades, but they didn’t include hiding from Poseidon and potentially having to take on a furious Cupid.

“Is he an eejit?” Thornycraft questioned logically.

“Yep. A complete butt waffle eejit,” I confirmed.

“Noted,” my buddy said. “Ahoy Hooker! I see the rapscallion on the horizon comin’ in fast.”

I looked out across the water and saw nothing. “Give me that,” I said, grabbing the spyglass. Sure enough Archer was headed right toward us.

Wait. What in the seahorse was he riding?

“Is he riding a dolphin?” I questioned, handing the spyglass back to Thornycraft.

“Aye,” he said with a chuckle as he peered into his telescope. “Johnson-man-tool is indeed riding a dolphin.”

“What kind of self-respecting immortal rides a freakin’ dolphin?” I muttered.

“Well, me guess would be a landlubber,” Thornycraft surmised with a laugh. “Mebbe the tool can’t swim.”

“Well, that would certainly suck,” I said, shaking my head.

“Why does that bother ye, little Hooker?”

“Because then he wouldn’t be able to fro…” I slapped my hand over my mouth before I said frolic in the ocean with me.

I didn’t want to frolic in the ocean with Archer. I simply wanted to boink him occasionally and not know his freakin’ name. But those days were over. He’d proved himself too stupid to live by stealing Cupid’s magic. No more boinking for us… unless we could fit a quickie in before the two-ton-toddler attacked.

Nope. No boinking Archer. Archer was my enemy. He refused to give the magic back to the bulbous baby therefore he was on the shit list. However, I still didn’t want him to die. Suffer a little… but not die.

“Are ye gonna hide the thievin’ scoundrel?” Thornycraft asked.

“Nope,” I replied, wiggling my fingers and warming up my hands in preparation for an ass blast of epic proportions. “I’m gonna zap the shit out of him and send him packing.”

“Because ye like him and want to keep the cargo thievin’ stern fouler safe?” the Pirate asked, biting back a smile.

“Yes. NO,” I shouted, giving Thornycraft the evil eyeball. “Because I don’t like him and want to keep him safe. There is a distinct difference.”

“Aye,” he said with a naughty little smirk. “Would ye like to give the cutlass flappin’ fish stink a nice welcome to the Mystical Isle?”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” I asked, giggling at the look on his face and his insulting description of Archer.

“Ye can communicate with the dolphins?”

“I can. As a matter of fact the local pod owes me a favor.”

“Then mebbe ye should find out if Johnson-man-tool can swim with the fishies. Mebbe that thar dolphin is tired of carrying a flounderin’ barrel bellied son of a sea slug on his back.”

“I like the way you think, Thornycraft,” I said with a laugh.

Closing my eyes and zoning in on the underwater sound waves, I located the exact creature I was looking for. With a wave of my hand and a silent request, the pilfering nard went flying off the dolphin with a stream of delightful expletives. It was awesome. He hit the water like a drunk human doing a belly flop off the high dive.

“Looks like Johnson-man-tool can swim,” Thornycraft pointed out with a laugh.

“It certainly does,” I replied, wondering how angry he’d be when he hit the shore.

Whatever. I was just getting started.