Hook's Pan (9 page)

Coming to rest on his shoulder, she caressed the shell of his ear with her tiny finger. “You always were a handsome devil, James. What a shame that you and Peter cannot find common ground.”

Fury sizzled down his spine, flowed like mercury through his veins. “Do not mention his name. He may appear a child, but he’s the devil incarnate and I’ll skewer him should I ever get the chance.”

Hissing, she jerked away from him, wand in her hand and pointed straight at his chest.

“Put it down,” he warned with a growl in his voice.

“I’ll murder you for saying that.”

Straightening, he smiled ever so slowly. “No, lass, I don’t believe you will. And do you want to know why?”

Her hand shook and her round, owl eyes burned with a mixture of fury and a shade of fear.

Wrapping his hook around the thick rope of a mast, he shook his head. “Because you owe me. What Pan did that day—unforgivable. You know it, I know it. You kill me and Danika will report you to the council, then where would your boys be?”

She slid her wand back inside the mass of her hair, until only the tip of the star poked out, looking like a bright red jewel amidst the crown of roses.
 
“I fixed it. I fixed her. You cannot, you must not…” she muttered.

His heart stuttered. Jerking to attention, he snatched her out of the air, breathing so hard he felt an ache in his lungs. “What do you mean you fixed her?”

In all the years since the day he’d lost her, none had ever told him what had really happened that day. All he’d known was that Pan had been responsible for her death and then her body disappeared. It’d been a mystery that had haunted him for decades.

Mouth tasting of cotton, he cocked his head. “Tell me.”

Her eyes were huge in her pale, ivory face. She swallowed hard, but he felt no sympathy, even as he rubbed her wing between his thumb and finger. Such a delicate, soft thing. It would take nothing to rip it straight off her back, grounding her forever.

“I am not to be trifled with, Tink. You tell me now.”

“I… I…” She closed her eyes, then covered her face with her hands.

It was a rare thing to ever see the legendary Tinkerbell at a loss for words. Hardening his heart, his nostrils flared as he counted slowly to ten in his head. If he got to eleven the wing would come off. Rubbing harder, he counted:
Five. Six. Seven
—

“Stop, I’ll tell you,” she screamed. “Only release my wing, please,” she choked out on a half sob.

Uncurling his fingers only slightly, he tilted his head. “I’m waiting.”

A crack of thunder sounded beside him, then a rift of blue opened up and out sailed his godmother. Perfect timing as ever.

“Why are you here, Danika?” he asked, without ever taking his eyes off Tinkerbell.

“Release her, Hook. Aye, it was Tink and her boys that did you wrong, but that is not the way The Ten will see it should you kill her.” Danika’s large blue eyes pleaded, her rosebud lips set in a soft frown.

“Not until I learn my answers.”

“Then let me be the one to tell you.”

So many thoughts assailed him. She knew, knew and hadn’t told him the truth. But would it have mattered, made any difference? Because whatever Tinkerbell had done, it hadn’t brought Talia back.

Laughing, the sound full of disgust, he tossed Tinkerbell away. She rolled legs over wings several tumbles before finally righting herself. Spitting hair out of her mouth, she patted her moss back into place and, growling low, eyed Hook as if she would destroy him.

She’d done it to others. How Tinkerbell had the spotless reputation on Earth—that she was a caring, nurturing fairy—was beyond him. Then again, fairytales were always skewed to make the fairies seem all that was kind and caring.

Even Danika, who seemed to care for him more than others, still lied and maneuvered and beguiled whomever, and whatever, to get her way. T’was the way of the fae, they were rarely to be trusted—even if they loved you.

It shouldn’t surprise him she’d known. She’d known with Wolf too.

Turning toward a still glowering Tink, Danika nodded. “Now we are even. Go back to your boys and leave mine alone.”

Baring her fangs with a loud, sibilant hiss, Tinkerbell streaked off in a golden orange blaze.

Sitting, he leaned against the rail, with his legs bent and spread, hands dangling between his thighs as exhaustion lay claim to his body. “So tell me, fairy.”

Nibbling her lip, she buzzed her dragonfly wings excitedly. “When I learned what Tinker had done, I knew I couldn’t tell you, because there was truly no hope. Not then. She saved Talia’s soul, but Peter’s strike had been true. She could do nothing for Talia’s body. Had she not acted when she did, Talia would have died well and true.”

It didn’t take much to deduce why Danika had chosen to keep the truth of the matter from him. Talia’s soul had been sent to Earth, she’d been born a babe with no memories of seas or him.

“And you did not tell me of her because you knew I’d go seeking.”

The Jolly Roger was a special ship, it could sail wherever he commanded it to, even Earth. He’d have spent a millennia, or more, following her around like a besotted fool, attempting always to get her to remember him, to bring her back.

“She never would have come with me, would she?”

Danika lifted a plump shoulder, her briarwood vest bunched around her bosom. “The soul trapped within the body is as immortal as yours or mine. I visited the body through several incarnations, always trying to see if any memory of her truth had finally been unlocked. Always to no avail. And I thought the trauma of trying to get her to recall, or to bring her back even, would be more than she could take. The body had always been abysmally weak, the strain of disbelief would have killed it over and over and over again. So I left her alone, always waiting and watching.”

He thought of the woman in his cabin. His lips twitched recalling the tongue on her. Her clothing was less than desirable, but when the mass of golden spun hair had fallen over her shoulders, his heart had clenched in a most irritating way. His body had hardened, not because he felt anything akin to love, but because she was a beauty and his lust had responded. But that was all he felt when he looked at her. Lust.

“Is there anything of my Talia in that body now?”

She sighed, her face looking sad. “Several lifetimes worth of memories are locked deep, deep inside. But I must warn you, Hook, the maiden you loved, she is long gone. Each life left an indelible mark, but Trishelle—for that is her name now—is your mate.”

He snorted. “I do not want her. If I cannot have Talia, I’ve no need of another.”

Huffing, she flitted to his finger. Turning his hand over, she daintily stepped onto his palm. “She is a good woman who’s known terrible darkness in this life. For the sake of the maiden you loved, try to know her. It would not kill you to show you’re not the monster the world has made you out to be.”

“I’ve no desire to show that side to anyone. That is my secret to know.”

“Then she will leave in three days and you will surely die. That was the prophecy, you know, the reason why I was forced to finally bring her here. Because if the Bad Five didn’t find their mates, this would be their last year of life.”

He shrugged. The fear of death had long since lost its sting.

Looking up, she frowned. “I must leave soon, I cannot follow into the drop. But may I ask a question?”

“What?”

She flitted off his palm, and he curled his fingers back.

“Why aren’t you mad at me? Wolf was furious. I must admit, I’m flabbergasted you’re still talking with me.”

Picking at his nails, he shivered as the tingle of the drop rushed through the breeze, encasing his ship in a skintight bubble. Danika frowned, and began to draw up into the sky, her eyes flicking between him and the black void of spiraling water opening up before them.

“Because I’d have done the same,” he finally said, just as the prow skirted the edge between the upper and under world of Never.

“Thank you,” she whispered and then flicked her wrist, sailing through the thin sliver of blue a second before the ship crashed over the edge.

After about thirty minutes, she decided she didn’t know what to think. Dream or not, true or not, she was here now, and that was all that mattered. Which meant, well...she wasn’t sure what. Did he plan to sleep with her? Did she want him to?

Why did he give her his room if that wasn’t his ultimate end game? Dirty old Hook. She smirked, heart beating just a tad harder when she thought about peeling the breeches and shirt off. What kind of a body did he have she wondered? Hard and ripped, or soft and wimpy?

“Bet it’s hard,” she muttered and then rolled her eyes at the turn her thoughts were taking. The man made her have ‘feels.’ Which was just a really lame way of saying he was making her tummy wiggle with a mass of butterflies. His hard black eyes and chiseled jaw…gah, he was everything she loved about men.

She had the worst taste in guys; at least she was smart enough to recognize that. And generally that wasn’t a problem because she didn’t want anything other than the temporary satisfaction their body could bring her.

But she didn’t think she could handle what Hook dished out. The man was intense, all steely eyed and growly and moody and when he laughed… She squeezed her thighs shut and moaned, flinging back onto the mattress and tossing a hand over her eyes.

Why had Danika the devil bug brought her here? Why had Betty and Gerard tried so hard to convince her Hook was the man for her? Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined this ever being a reality.

She laughed. Softly at first, then harder as it all finally started to sink in. The numbness she’d languored in when she’d first gotten here was now being replaced by a weird, sickening gut feeling that this was really happening. Huffing a lank of hair out of her eyes, she stared at the wooden beams above her.

Somewhere up on deck was a man they called Hook.

Danika had said the answers were inside her. Closing her eyes she tried to clear her mind, she really did, but after five minutes she began to feel stupid. What was she thinking? Trying to remember being a mermaid? Of once living in Kingdom? She laughed. How stupid and desperate she’d become.

Irritated, she scratched her thigh, wishing all over again she could just yank the tights off.

Actually… She bit her lip. Maybe if she was quick about it, she could take them off. Listening to make sure no one was headed down the hall, she quickly shucked her ugly green tunic off, then wiggled her way out of the itchy tights. Technically she hadn’t needed to take the shirt off to remove the tights, but she was so itchy she just needed a second without the stuff on.

Her nude skin tingled and itched. Scratching all over, she reveled in her temporary nudity. But it would be just her luck that he’d walk in with her looking like this. Sighing, she put the tunic back on. She felt a little better without the tights, except the trade off was now she felt naked with so much thigh showing.

Rolling her eyes, she wondered what Hook would say if she screamed for him to come back. She was bored out of her mind.

Walking toward the porthole, she expected to see nothing but a thick expanse of black sky and water. What she did see made her gasp. Pressing her nose to the thick pane of glass, her eyes went wide and her mouth slackened as the world outside filled her with a sense of wonder—that is until she realized they were sinking.

Because the only way she could see what she was seeing was if they were well below the sea. Panicked, she ran to the door, flung it open and looked for the stairs to lead her topside. She needed to get off the ship.

“Hook!” she screamed. “We’re sinking, where are you?”

She continued screaming for him, until a rough hand clamped across her mouth, drawing her tight to a solid body as it yanked her into another, much smaller cabin.

“Think a moment, before screaming like a bloody banshee.”

It wasn’t Hook’s voice. This voice wasn’t nearly as deep and it also throbbed with the flinty edge of an Irish brogue.