The limo bounces over the ruts in the dirt road that leads to Darkins' compound. I've done my best using a mirror in a flap over the passenger's seat to braid my hair and wipe the smudged makeup from my eyes. My hand is still aching, but it's a good ache, a reminder.

We turn into the driveway off the road. There's a bright light waving through the air. A man paces beside the drive in the moonlit shadow of a gnarled oak. As we get closer, I see the man is smoking a cigarette. I've seen the smelly things before on the boardwalk. He wears a black leather jacket, black jeans, boots, and dark mirrored sunglasses, despite the fact that the sun went down hours ago. "It's one of Darkins' guards. I hope the merfolk were freed, and the werewolves managed to lay the explosives before the guards escaped the haunted house."

Pierce smiles at me and smooths a stray hair on my forehead with the back of his hand. "I'm sure they did, Wave." Just feeling his touch calms me a little.

The guard makes a downward motion with his hand. I guess this means he wants Pierce to bring down the window, because that's what Pierce does. The stink of the cigarette wafts into the limo before the guard flings it to the ground and crushes it into the gravel with his boot.

"Evening, sir," says Pierce affably, but I see the twitch of a muscle in his jaw.

"I need to see your ID," the guard says, his mouth in a severe line.

"You don't need to see my identification," Pierce says.

The guard opens his jacket, revealing a gun tucked into the waistband. "I think I do."

I wonder if Pierce can't do his freaky vampire mind control on someone in sunglasses?

"You do know this is Darkins' limo, correct? The guy paying your salary? If I were you, I'd stop threatening the boss's driver and let us pass. We don't want to be late."

I hope the guard doesn't ask to see Darkins, who is quiet as a corpse in the back. I'm almost positive the privacy screen is raised all the way. I force myself not to turn around and check.

"We found Darkins' driver an hour ago, wandering around in his underwear and muttering something about volunteering at a homeless shelter." The guard pulls out the gun and levels it at Pierce's heart. "I'm going to need you to exit the vehicle with your hands over your head. And the young lady as well."

Pierce turns off the car and makes a hand gesture indicating that I should stay where I am. I want to tell him I can take care of myself, thank you very much, but I am really tired of fighting right now. He opens the creaky limo door. Far off in the distance, I hear music and the hum of a crowd.

Pierce puts one leg on to the graveled drive, then the other, his hands on his head as if in surrender. But I know Pierce, and he would never surrender. Ever! He steps out of the limo and stands in front of the guard, blocking me from his vision.

"Her too," the guard orders.

"I don't think so," says Pierce, the authority and menace in his voice sending chills down my spine. There is a flash, and the guard is relieved of his sunglasses. Pierce throws them into the car on the seat next to me. Then Pierce puts both his hands on either side of the guard's jaw and stares into his eyes; it almost looks like he is going to kiss him. "You have not seen me or the limo or the young lady," says Pierce.

"I have not seen you or the limo or the young lady," the guard intones.

"Correct. And you, my friend, are to leave this place and never return. You will give up smoking and volunteer for the Ocean Conservancy doing trash cleanup."

"That is an excellent idea," says the guard. "I am glad I thought of it."

"Good man," says Pierce. "Now, hand me your gun. You won't be needing it anymore."

"Of course," says the guard, handing the gun to Pierce.

"Goodbye," says Pierce, pocketing the gun.

The man is already walking toward the road. He turns over his shoulder, smiles at Pierce, and waves. "Thanks, man," he says, disappearing behind a bend in the road. I actually think Pierce has made the man's life better.

Pierce slides across the leather seat, turns on the car, and grips the steering wheel.

"You're going to carry a gun around now?" I ask.

"No, Waverly. A vampire doesn't need a gun to kill." He takes it out of his pocket and stows it in the glove compartment in front of me.

"Is that supposed to make me feel safe?"

"It is only a fact. One you should well know. Vampires are killers. We are quick. Had I wanted to, I could have killed that man before he uttered a single word. I tell you this because there are still a few vampires out there who are not as restrained as I am, and you do have that delicious mermaid blood. So never underestimate a vampire."

"I won't. Ever."

"Good, my love," Pierce says, kissing me. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close as I can. Too soon, he stops kissing me and pulls away. His eyes are pinpricks, and his fangs are extended. He needs me as much as I need him. "We'll get back to this after we finish up at the party."

"Of course," I say, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. I mean, I really want to help all my friends and save the planet and stuff, but holy sea cow, that vampire can kiss me into oblivion!

The party is clearly in full swing. The place is packed with press and West Marin Heights students, and everyone is dancing and eating and laughing. As we crunch up the gravel drive toward the barn, a group of humans dressed as mermaids and pirates walk past, probably heading for the Chinese food cart. I want to yell at them: mermaids don't walk on their tails, and no self-respecting pirate would wear a hat with a skull and crossbones printed on it like a great big 'I'm a pirate' target! But we have bigger fish to fry.

Pierce parks the car, and we get out. The air is fragrant with garlic and ginger and pumpkin. The song playing is about how girls just want to have fun. There are bales of hay topped with intricately carved jack-o'-lanterns glowing with inner light—almost as if they are alive. Beautiful orange fairy lights are floating in the air over the entire farm. I don't know what the humans are making of them, but they seem to be accepting them as if they are perfectly normal.

A raccoon family skitters past toward the overflowing trash cans lined up at the opposite end of the barn. "Thanks for the grub," one of the raccoons says to me as they pass. "Knew you were good folk."

"No problem," I say back.

"You speak raccoon?" Pierce says. Of course, he's continually reading my mind!

"A little."

In the far parking lot, next to the yellow farm equipment, are a dozen large vans with big plates on top. Pierce told me they are called satellite dishes and that the press will use them to broadcast our presentation tonight worldwide.

The most important thing we have to find out is whether Darkins' phone call to Igor did any more damage other than alerting a guard to watch for us on the driveway. I would love to know where Igor is as well. I hope the wolves got the explosives laid out at the barn and that the merfolk were rescued and safely in Chiron's care. Those poor mers have suffered for too long!

Pierce takes my hand and kisses it. "What first?"

"Let's find Cupid and get the new and improved press packets from him," I say, peering through the crowd of press people dressed like vampires and goddesses, fairies and werewolves, and West Marin Heights students dressed like anything but. Around the periphery, Darkins' guards watch the area, arms uniformly folded across chests in wide-footed, ready-to-pounce stances. A few of them are looking at the limo.

"Don't worry, Wave," Pierce whispers in my ear. "I locked it, and Darkins won't be waking anytime soon."

I'm searching the crowd for Cupid when an enormous beast wraps its arms around my shoulders and squeezes. "Aaarrghh!"

"Waverly!" the beast says in a very non-beastlike voice.

"Lily-Bella? Is that you?" I say.

"Who else?" she says, as if I should know that the only person who would attend the party as the beast from Beauty and the Beast is Lily-Bella. She takes a step back. She's rather dashing as the Beast; she's wearing a long purple cape with a large sword hanging from a scabbard at her thick waist. She has long furry brown paws and has magically transformed her face into that of a beast.

Thunder is holding back a few paces, staring at the gravel driveway and adjusting the bodice of his ruched yellow gown. I don't think he's too happy about his outfit as Beauty. He even has on dark magenta lipstick and an auburn wig.

Through my peripheral vision, I notice Pierce doing his best to suppress a laugh at Thunder's predicament.

"Hey, Thunder," I say.

He grunts, not looking up at me.

"Come on, Thundy. You look stunning!" says Lily-Bella. "But wait. Aren't you guys back early? And where is Patty Cary? Is everything okay? And Waverly, what are you supposed to be?"

I look down at Aphrodite's dress. It's wet, torn, and splattered with Darkins' blood. I look like something dragged up from a shipwreck. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be. Cupid insisted I wear this dress. And we're back early because we had some major trouble with Darkins."

"What did he do to you? I will turn him into a toad," Lily-Bella says, sliding her sword from its scabbard.

"With a fake sword?"

"It's really my wand but cleverly disguised."

"Oh, okay, but you can sheathe your wand. Darkins is out of commission right now."

"Uh, oh. What did you do to him, Wave?" says Lily-Bella, putting her sword away.

"Nothing he didn't deserve," Pierce says. "The creep!"

"I'm sure," says Lily-Bella.

"How did it go with the rescue and setting the explosives?" says Pierce.

"Perfectly," says Thunder, perking up. "We have everything laid out, and the merfolk should all be back at the school by now. They seemed to be in pretty good shape."

"That's great! All our planning has paid off. Do you guys know where Cupid might be?"

"Backstage, I think," Lily-Bella says. "Um, he's been there for a while."

Pierce raises a dark eyebrow.

"Are you still jealous of Cupid?" I ask him.

"I am not jealous of that golden-haired, overly muscled, bootie-wearing godling," Pierce snarls.

We all laugh. "Of course, you aren't." I kiss his dimpled cheek. "I'm heading over."

"Cool, we'll meet you at the stage for the press announcement in a few minutes," says Lily-Bella. "Right now, my Beauty needs some raw meat to sustain himself through the evening, so he doesn't accidentally eat anyone."

"I will not eat the party guests," Thunder declares, flicking his long auburn tresses over his hulking shoulders. "Though you are looking rather delicious, Madame."

The Beast grins. "Awww, you say the nicest things, Thundy. Bye, guys."

The evening is getting better with every moment. Darkins is unconscious in the back of the limo, the explosives are set, the merfolk are free, and Pierce and I are about to put an end to Darkins' evil scheme.

We squeeze between revelers and finally make it into the marquee. There is a long white curtain partitioning off the backstage area. I can smell coconut and pineapple before we even part the curtain. We step behind it and krill's gills! There's Cupid in his standard short toga and bowtie, in a candlelit space, mere feet from the stage. He's lying on a pile of Hawaiian-print pillows, sipping from a coconut shell, and being massaged and fed chunks of pineapple by the six nymphs from Fairyland. And they're not in costume! In fact, they're wearing almost the same thing they wore in the Fairyland stream—moonbeams and pearls.

"Hey, hot vampire," says the loveliest nymph, her long wavy hair the color of snow. "Wanna bring that hunky bod over here and join us?"

"I've heard that nymph blood is even better than mermaid blood," titters an obsidian-haired beauty.

"Sorry, ladies. Taken," Pierce says, not taking his eyes from mine.

"Are you kidding?" I say, stomping over to Cupid's 'lair,' hands on my hips.

Cupid sits, waving aside his harem. They all pout but obey.

"Really?" I say, tapping my stilettoed heel.

Cupid bites into a chunk of pineapple that had been handed to him by a pink-haired nymph. "What did you do to my mom's dress? She's gonna freak."

"Never mind that now," I say. Yeah, sometimes you have bigger things to worry about than an angry goddess. "Can you possibly take a break from your 'activities' and help us save the world?"

"Everything is fine, Wave," Cupid says. "Relax."

"Pay attention, love god," Pierce says. "Here are the new press packets. We should move everyone into the marquee and begin the presentation. We'll get some students to hand out the press kits to the humans as they enter."

"The revised press kits are on Darkins' desk in the barn. They are in the exact same place and same folders as the originals, so no one would think anything is amiss. Perhaps a couple of the ladies would be so kind to retrieve them for us?"

The pink-haired nymph frowns. "But, Cupid, we were having so much fun."

"There will be more fun later, ladies." Cupid winks. "I promise!"

Pierce snorts. Cupid glares at him. Will these two ever get along? And I have to stop liking Pierce's jealousy. Oops! Did he hear me think that?

"Uh, Cupid," I say.

"Yes, Waverly?"

"I know it's a costume party and all, but do you think your 'friends' could maybe wear something a little more like ... clothes?"

"Of course," Cupid says. "Go on, ladies. Get dressed and get those folders. I'll need them back here in five minutes. Then you can come back and admire my godly assets."

The nymphs rise and head over to a lovely screen printed with hummingbirds and cherry blossoms. Moments later, they emerge in white shirts, black vests, and black pants, their hair in demure buns.

"Be back in five," says a redheaded nymph.

"We're on stage in ten minutes," I say. "And you, my dear Pierce, look like an ultra-hot limo driver. You might want to lose the cap, though. Hmmm, but I'm in bloody tatters. Maybe I have time to go find the black leather outfit I was wearing earlier?"

"I don't think there's time, Wave. And besides, you look ..." Pierce takes my sore hands and holds them over my head, examining every inch of my body with approval. He kisses me with great fervor.

"You definitely need your eyes checked," I say, laughing. "I don't care if you think you have super vampire-enhanced vision."

"You are a mess," Cupid says. "And you will be addressing about a billion humans around the globe."

"Gee, thanks for the subtlety, Cupid. I really wish I had something better to wear."

I feel a rustle against my skin. I look down and gasp. "Holy sea cow!" I am in the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. It's even more gorgeous than the one Pickles conjured for me at the yacht party on the first day of school. This one is long and glowing in ocean blues and greens with silver sparkles of what looks like moonlight. Beneath the surface, depending on the angle, there are shimmery glimpses of tropical fish, bat rays, and steel-toned sharks swimming with fluid grace amongst the undulating kelp. My waist-length hair is now loose and clean, each of the dozens of green and gold shades, as defined as thick brush-strokes of paint. I've decided to love Cupid forever! "Wow, Cupid! Thank you!"

"Much as I'd like to take credit for your transformation," says Cupid, "it wasn't me. You look stunning, though, my dear. The ocean shall be jealous of your beauty."

"Hey, I wrote that in one of my poems," Pierce says.

"I was bored one day!" says Cupid.

"You read my journals?" Pierce's fangs drop.

"Maybe a little," says Cupid. "You are an excellent poet, vampire."

"Well, you are a horrible ..."

The lights in the marquee flash on and off. "It's showtime," I say. "Come on, guys. Can you fight later? We're on!"

"Of course, Waverly," says Cupid.

He disappears, and a moment later, we hear his voice booming from the stage. "Everyone take your seats. It's the announcement you've all been waiting for."

Pierce and I walk onto the stage to thunderous applause. Lights flash at us, and I am momentarily blinded. I have never been in a confined space with so many people. My mouth is dry, and my heart is practically pounding out of my chest.

Pierce squeezes my hand. "It'll be fine, Wave. We're doing it together."

I concentrate on breathing as we make our way to the microphone. Once we're there, the crowd grows quiet, except for a few random coughs. My classmates are at the back of the room, waiting for this part of the plan to end so they can get on with the party. Thunder and Lily-Bella wave, as do a bunch of my other friends. I am not alone, I remember. It's all of us doing this together, and we are strong.

I clear my throat. "Hello, everyone. My name is Kelly Spring, and this is my colleague, Tim Molar. Unfortunately, Mr. Darkins, inventor of Elixir of the Sea, cannot be with us as he is trapped in an ... um ... important meeting.

"I am here tonight to reveal to you, and the world, that Mr. Dirk Darkins is actually a criminal guilty of kidnapping, extortion, brutality, and poisoning Tomales Bay with the toxic waste from making Elixir of The Sea."

More lights flash. Everyone talks at once, and the din is overwhelming. Enormous cameras on the shoulders of some of the humans come closer to the stage. Darkins' guards slither toward us, probably unsure whether it would be a good move to kill us with the whole world watching.

"Quiet, please," Pierce says into the microphone. "We have more to say."

The audience hushes. The guards are almost upon us.

"Thank you," I say. "Mr. Darkins wants you to believe he is a philanthropic genius who will bestow his invention, which he claims stops the aging process, upon the world. For a substantial profit, I might add. Mr. Darkins is actually a greedy gangster who will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

"Liar!" says a voice coming from the entrance of the marquee. It's Darkins! The crowd breaks into a deafening roar. Lights flash at Darkins. The cameramen move toward him. It's mayhem.

Darkins pushes through the throng of press and leaps on to the stage. He's dressed in a pristine white suit, not a scratch on his face, his blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. His blue eyes flash almost red with fury at Pierce and me. Pierce grabs my hand. "We have the evidence, Wave," he whispers.

Darkins takes the microphone, glaring at us. Then he turns to the crowd, beaming. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I must apologize for these two. They are animal activists. Fanatics. You know the type. But I assure you, Elixir of the Sea is not and has never been tested on animals."

I grab the microphone. "If you'll all be so kind as to open your press kits, we have ample evidence of Mr. Darkins' criminal activities."

"Go ahead," Darkins purrs, his oily voice smooth and confident.

I am getting a bad feeling. I hold my breath. Why is Darkins so happy right now? He looks almost victorious.

People are opening the press kits and scanning the pages. They are cheering and looking at Darkins as if he is a god. Somehow, he must have switched the packets back to the originals!