Never, Never (23 page)

He was drunk off the feel of her, the sweet floral taste of her, so much so that it was minutes before he realized the mermaids' music had ceased. When he forced himself to back away from her, his voice was husky, his throat dry.

“I have to go,” he said, only then realizing that the sky around them was inky black.

She was trembling everywhere, but managed, “As do I.”

She turned to leave, and he caught her by the hand.

“I'll be there, this time, when you come to see me.”

She grinned at him wryly, kiss still there, hidden at the corner of her lips. “Of course you will.”

Tiger Lily disappeared, and Hook started to make his way back to the
Spanish Main
. The sense of urgency he should have felt was masked by the wine of the woman, and for the breadth of the trip back, Hook found himself thinking of her. He wished to be consumed by her, feel her in every piece of his soul. She was worth every second of his captivity in Neverland. She was worth everything.

Starkey, however, disagreed. For by the time Hook reached the
Main
, Peter had already struck.

T
HE CAPTAIN CLENCHED HIS JAW AND DUG HIS HOOK
into the soft wood of his desk. Little pieces spiraled out and fell to the floor. He dragged the hook until he reached the end of the desk, and then he strode over to his window. There was a light coat of frost upon it. Hook narrowed his eyes.

“Starkey!” he yelled, a rumble in his voice.

Starkey appeared at the door seconds after he called him. “Aye, Captain.”

The look on his first mate's face was grim, with a note of accusation. Hook ignored it for the moment.

“There's frost on this window.”

“And?” Starkey clenched his jaw and turned toward the door, and Hook's nostrils flared. He took two monstrous steps and caught Starkey's shoulder with his hook.

“Do not be so brazen as to take your leave from me.”

“Sorry, sir,” Starkey said, voice low and insincere.

Hook pressed the metal into Starkey's shoulder and turned the man to face him. “I am your captain. Not the other way 'round. Don't take to forgetting yourself.”

Starkey stared back into his face, eyes hard and angry. “Of course,
Captain
.” Starkey's nose twitched, and Hook refused to be intimidated by his father's familiar, angry gesture.

“Excuse me?” Hook said, eyes burning with anger.

“A man died last night, sir. Again. And yer concerned with the frost on the windows?”

Starkey's voice had risen a decibel.

“You believe this is my fault?”

“I do.”

Hook's eyebrows shot up. In truth, he was almost impressed with Starkey's boldness. But, he was leaning decidedly toward enraged. His voice lowered dangerously, and he pointed his hook at the other man. “You, Starkey, are the first mate. And I am Captain Hook. Before I took charge of this vessel, you were
nothing
. You spent all your time drinking and getting slaughtered by that boy. Do not forget that.”

“Forgive me, Captain,” Starkey said, face reddening, “but what exactly has changed?”

Hook struck the man across the face with his right (which was, unfortunately for Starkey, no longer a hand), etching a clean line of blood into his cheek and breathing hard. Starkey blinked and stood straight, staring back at the captain. His eyes were carefully absent of fury and sarcasm.

Hook neared Starkey's face and said, “Next time, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

A muscle twitched in Starkey's jaw, but he gave his captain a single nod.

Hook backed away a step and drew in a deep breath, calming himself. “Now, Starkey, as I said before, there is frost on my window. The Pan is gone. Again.”

“Aye,” said Starkey, standing rigid, face carefully devoid of expression.

“How can he be gone again already?” Hook said, brow deeply furrowed. “He only just returned.”

Hook's face was burning, tinted a deep shade of crimson. Pan had left again. And there had never been
a time when he'd wanted to kill the boy more. It was absolutely infuriating.

“I don't rightly know, sir.”

Hook jerked his hook to point toward the door. “Leave me, Starkey.”

Starkey did not need to be told this twice. He closed Hook's door behind him a tad harder than was necessary, and Hook rolled his eyes. He picked up a handkerchief and folded it around his hook, wiping it clean of the small coating of Starkey's blood. Starkey's tendency to always be right was infinitely frustrating. It was his own fault that another man died last night, and one man, at this point, was no small thing. Their numbers were shrinking dramatically. He had less than thirty pirates on his vessel now.

Of course Pan was gone. Again. It was inconsiderate of the boy, given the captain's strong desire, at this very moment, to plunge his hook into him. But there was not much that he could do to rectify the situation. So, he chose to take it as a gift.

He exited his cabin, head held high, past Smee, who was fumbling with his fingers and looking at the ground, and Cecco and Noodler and Thatcher, who were mumbling low to one another, daring to have a glimpse at him one at a time. Jukes stopped in front of him at one point, and Hook narrowed his eyes. “What?” he growled.

Jukes blinked and leaned backward. “Nothing, sir,” he said, and he lumbered away to join the rest of the men.

Though Starkey gave him a look that could have melted the skin off anyone caught in its wake, he ignored him as well, hugged his coat tightly around him, and strutted off the
Spanish Main
.

Who he was looking for was obvious. Where exactly to find her was not. He walked through the woods, however, unfazed. It seemed he had a knack for finding
her, even when he'd no idea where she would be. So, he simply followed his instincts, which took him to the Indians' river. Lightly colored mist rose off it, blanketing the nearby grass in cold fog.

When he reached the riverbed, where Tiger Lily was not, he took a risk and headed to the clearing where they had danced the night before. He did not really expect her to be there; he doubted that the waltz and the kiss had meant as much to her as they had to him. But, there was no harm in looking, was there?

When he made it to the meadow, he stopped short. The venom that had been running through his blood since the encounter with Starkey dissipated instantly. Hook was unable to stop himself from smiling, too large a smile; he was sure he looked rather foolish. There was Tiger Lily standing in the midst of the yellow-green grasses, back turned to him. Hook was silent as he headed toward her, stopping behind her. She jumped when he slid his arms around her waist and brought his lips to the spot just behind her ear.

“James! I didn't hear you.”

He turned her around to face him, unreasonably thrilled when she did not pull away from his arms. She opened her mouth to say something to him, and he covered it with his. She jumped lightly at that, but her hands pulled him closer, and he smiled against her lips.

“So it wasn't just the sirens?” he said, grinning.

“What?”

He backed up, still close enough that their lips were nearly touching. “I was rather concerned that you only kissed me last night because you were under the spell of the mermaids. I shall let you take it back, if you wish.”

A playful spark lit up his eyes, which was certainly a rarity for the captain. His arms were still tight around her, and he ran his thumb up and down the small of her back,
touching her so low, nervous prickles ran up his arm. Her skin was chilled, along with every other piece of life in the clearing, apart from Hook. She turned up one corner of her mouth and kissed him on his cheek.

“What the mermaids sang had very little to do with what we did last night.”

“Ah. So you admit they influenced you a bit.”

She bit her lip and grinned. “A bit.”

“I suppose I shall take it.”

He swept his gaze down her figure, and back up. He'd been right, when he'd seen the age on her face. She couldn't have been younger than eighteen.

Tiger Lily pulled back from him, but he kept his hand at the small of her back, starved for any touch she would allow him. She sat in the middle of the clearing, and he reluctantly broke the hold and sat across from her.

“I've missed you,” he said. No matter how desperate that sounded, it was true.

Tiger Lily rolled her eyes. “We haven't been apart for more than a Neverday.”

“Yes, but that could mean any amount of time in Neverland.”

Tiger Lily smiled and looked distantly over his shoulder. Hook turned and found nothing there, nothing but the still, grey trees, and the glittering frost covering the leaves. He frowned for an instant, but chose to ignore it. Women did strange things frequently, he was learning. He scooted a fraction closer to her.

“Tell me, what brings you out to this particular meadow today?” His voice itself grinned; he was looking for a very specific answer, one that revolved around him.

Tiger Lily said nothing. She simply continued staring off over his shoulder.

“Tiger Lily?” he said, frowning.

She blinked and turned to face him. “Hmm?”

“Did you hear me?”

“I'm sorry, James. I'm not feeling very well.” He could see it then—the distinct pallor in her skin, the dullness in her eyes.

He scooted even closer to her, coming to sit beside her. Their hips were touching, a fact that Hook was overwhelmingly aware of. He inched his face closer to hers, lips just behind her ear, and said, “Anything I can do to help?”

She laughed, in a strange way. “I doubt that.”

Then, Hook understood. He stiffened. “It's Peter, isn't it?” he said, pulling back.

“No,” she said, but she wouldn't look at him.

He bit down on the side of his tongue, hard. Voicing his opinion on the matter would be a mistake. But, he was somewhat well-versed in making mistakes. “Of course it is, Tiger Lily. It's always Peter Pan.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about.”

She stood. He stood with her.

“I have more of an idea than you believe.” His nostrils were flared and he was shaking, instantly so furious he could barely see straight.

Tiger Lily turned her back on him and crossed her arms.

“What is wrong with this place?” Hook shouted. Rarely did he ever lose control, but with her, he was on the edge of panic every second, so raising his voice was barely optional.

“James, you don't understand.”

“You're absolutely right,” he hissed, low and clipped. “I don't understand.”

He took a step, standing in front of her now, staring into her eyes, compelling her not to look away. He kept his voice harsh and low so that no passing Peter-loving inhabitants of Neverland would hear the exchange.

"I don't understand how everything on this cursed island revolves around the presence of that boy. And I don't understand how anyone can look in his smirking, arrogant face and not wish to smash it. And what I really do not understand is how you can kiss me and dance with me and hate me for taking a leave to Keelhaul, and yet you cannot look at me when I mention his name.”

“I should go,” she said.

“Don't,” he said, somewhere between livid and desperate. “Not yet.”

She shot a deadly glare at him. “You cannot blame me for my nature, James Hook. I did not ask to be bound to Peter.”

“Finally, she admits it!” He threw his hand and hook in the air and took several steps away from her. “How, Tiger Lily? How can you ‘be bound' to a child? That's all he is.”

“He's not a child. He's not much younger than I am; you know that.” Hook laughed harshly at that. She was every bit a woman, and Pan was every bit a boy. She ignored him and continued. “And I cannot help what I feel. I'm his dream, James. I'm
his
. Without Peter, I don't even
exist
; can't you understand that?”

Hook's jaw went slack, and he was breathing hard, as though he'd just run the length of the island. He'd known that, somewhere in the dark, inaccessible crevices of his soul. But he'd never acknowledged it. Had never heard it put so cleanly. The thought that she really, truly was Pan's robbed the breath from his lungs.

“Tell me, pirate,” she said after he'd been silent for a while, “how am I to change what Neverland has willed me to be? You clearly couldn't.”

Hook recoiled, ripped from his musings, struck by her words. “What did you say?”

Tiger Lily shook her head, and shifted from one foot to the other. “I'm saying that you were not a scoundrel when you came here. You were not a pirate. But it was your destiny, wasn't it? So you ran off to Keelhaul Isle and you drank and pillaged and made a name for yourself, and you probably bedded a thousand women—”

Hook took a step toward her, voice rising with every word. “Oh, is that what this is about? My ‘thousand women?' I only ever had any woman other than you because you made me believe you were done with me.”

Tiger Lily drew in a sharp breath and dropped her gaze to the cold forest floor. The pain that came over her face was sudden and unexpected, and it cut Hook to the core. The silence that followed as they looked at one another twisted the knife inside him.

But then Tiger Lily said, voice quiet, pained, a little dangerous, “So, it's true?”

Hook inched backward. “What?”

He knew exactly what she was asking but wished to put off the pain just a moment more.

“You did bed all those women. I'd heard it, but I didn't believe it.”

There was a note of desperation in his voice when he said, “Tiger Lily, I told you. I thought—”

She curled her lip inward. “It doesn't matter what you thought.”

He reached out toward her, and she leaned backward. Just a hair's width, nearly nothing. But enough.

“That isn't fair. All the time I've been fall—” Hook stopped himself before he made a confession he couldn't take back.