by Plum Pascal
I feel a pang for the Jolly Roger. If we had a fleet of flying ships, maybe...
But it’s impossible. The Blue Faerie, who enchanted the Jolly Roger to give it the ability to fly, is dead, her niece Tinkerbell murdered or missing. There’s only Unseelie fae now, and they’ve already thrown their lot in with Morningstar in exchange for the destruction of the Seelie Court. There’s no help to be had from that avenue, either.
If Aria’s people can’t deliver what she’s promising, we’re well and truly buggered.
“Are all human cities this... plain?” Aria asks, staring around at the disheveled remains of the port town.
It’s clear she’s trying to keep the disdain from her voice. I’m irrationally defensive, hailing from a port town myself. Granted, nothing in Neverland is ever peaceful or pretty. Bloodstained and wild, Neverland is second only to Wonderland in terms of sheer fucking insanity. Bridgeport might not be pretty, but it’s still safer than Neverland.
“Ye’re nae seein’ Bridgeport at its best, lass. Triton’s beasties have done a feckin’ number on the place. They’ll be lucky to survive the comin’ season. Keepin’ things pristine is a low priority at the moment.”
Aria’s cheeks flush again, that lovely and unique shade that I’m coming to love. She’s turned that color every time she’s come to me in the evenings, asking me to touch her.
Just the thought of her spread out on the bed, quim wet and glistening for me, makes me uncomfortably hard. I’m not sure how much longer I can go without asking her for more. But there’s so much she still has to learn about humans and human bodies. Like the fact that kisses aren’t always greetings and that clothing isn’t optional.
“She didn’t know,” Bastion interjects hotly. “Don’t you condescend to her, human.”
“Blimey! Keep yer feckin’ voice down,” I hiss back. “Ye want another brawl? Because that’s what we’ll get if they find out what ye are.”
“I care little,” he growls. “Don’t think I won’t bash your skull open. She is our lady, and you will treat her with respect.”
“Cap’n Hook?”
I half-turn in surprise when I hear the familiar voice. It’s not as musical as Aria’s, but still holds its charm. There’s a note of strength that bolsters every syllable.
Sure enough, when I turn, she’s standing not ten feet away, bartering with a merchant. Her three husbands are clustered around her, taking a position to her right, left, and back—silent, dangerous slabs of muscle that can turn into enormous bears at the slightest provocation.
“Kassidy?” I ask.
A bright, sunny smile touches her mouth. She’s a short thing, barely coming up to my sternum. Narrow but muscled, though not unattractively so. She’s a thief, built for speed and combat, unlike the willowy woman at my side. Aria looks like a stiff breeze will knock her off her newly acquired legs. Kassidy’s hair is golden and grows in as thick as a hedge, spiraling in wild curlicues. It’s no surprise she’s long been known as Goldilocks.
She looks more disheveled than usual, bedraggled in a way that’s not sexy. I’m just glad she’s alive and appears mostly intact.
Kassidy disentangles herself from her pack of menfolk and rushes me, arms outstretched. I step forward with a laugh, catching her when she launches herself into my arms. We’ve never been bosom friends, but I like her. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and in possession of the largest set of brass balls I’ve seen this side of Neverland. It seems she’s as happy to see me as I am to see her.
“Oh, Hook!” she exclaims, pulling back to plant a wet kiss on my cheek. “Oh, thank the Gods! You’re alive! We saw the Jolly Roger go down. We thought…”
I pull away and grin, buffing my hook against my frock coat in a casual manner. “I’m made o’ sturdier stuff than that, Miss Aurelian, an’ ye right well know it!”
“Who is this?” Aria demands.
Aria’s musical voice holds a sour note. It’s a tone like nothing I’ve heard from her before, and when I tilt my head to look at her, I find her staring at Kassidy, blue-green eyes narrowed to slits.
Ah, shite. I’ve made the lass jealous. Not polite, to be embracing other women while I’ve been finger-fucking her to explosive orgasm every night since we reached land.
I gently take Kassidy’s hands and disentangle myself, stepping back about three paces until Aria’s expression eases from murderous to merely hostile. Her slim shoulders are rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It’s hard to forget, beautiful as she is, that she can assume another, deadlier form with talons, wings, and a ripping beak.
“Aria, Bastion, this is Kassidy Aurelian. She an’ her husbands were aboard the Jolly Roger when we were attacked by the kraken.”
The adolescent kraken. Fuck. I still can’t believe that thing was a child.
Aria’s tense shoulders ease down a wee bit when she hears the word ‘husbands.’
“I didn’t know that was possible,” she murmurs.
“What?” Kassidy asks.
Aria studies her with interest. “You have more than one mate?”
Kassidy takes my silent cue and retreats toward her husbands. They’re all fucking massive, seven feet tall, at least. Nash and Leith favor one another, one with dark hair and the other with slate gray. Sorren is the outlier, pale and chocolate haired. The four of them then return together, each of the men nodding to me in greeting as I return it.
Kassidy casts Aria a curious glance. “What do you mean?”
Aria’s gaze, meanwhile, is plastered on each of Kassidy’s husbands but not in a desirous way, as she sometimes looks at me. Instead, she appears to be inspecting them. “Do you hail from giants?” she asks them.
“Giants?” Nash says with a smile as he faces Leith, who only smiles.
“She’s nae from ‘round here,” I offer, dropping my voice so the crowds streaming around us don’t overhear.
Kassidy gives me a frown. “I knew that the moment I set eyes on her, Hook,” she says with a laugh.
I nod. “Aye. She... she’s the one who rescued me when the Jolly Roger went down. She’s one o’ the...” I cast another nervous glance around. Fuck, there’s so many people here. I look at Kassidy again and whisper, “She’s one o’ the... ladies o’ the water.”
Kassidy’s eyes light with understanding and grow round as she swivels them toward Aria once more. I’ve been trying to hide the glaringly obvious markers of Aria and Bastion’s inhumanity, keeping Aria’s hair out of sight, coating their skin in a layer of mild filth to keep the markings from showing and to dull the luminous sheen. Still, the markings are there. The skin that shows through is still very obviously not human. If people looked up from their own feet once in a while, they’d notice such things. Good thing they don’t.
Sharp as she is, Kassidy can’t fail to note them.
“Oh. Uh... wow.”
“I’m Leith,” one of Kassidy’s husbands says and offers Aria his hand. She just looks at it and then looks back at him before she holds her hand out as well, though doesn’t make any motion to take his.
“She doesnae understand our customs,” I try to explain.
“I am Aria and this is Bastion,” she says and motions to Bastion who stands behind us as though he wants nothing to do with anyone. Which is most likely the truth. Surly bastard he is.
“These are my cousins, Nash and Sorren,” Leith continues as both nod to Aria and she nods back to them.
“She’s here to talk to the King, Popsy,” I continue, speaking to Kassidy. I keep my voice pitched low, though I haven’t technically said anything incriminating. “About a cessation of hostilities.”
Aria turns her murderous glare to me. “Popsy?” she repeats and I immediately recognize my mistake. “That was the strange title you gave me… and me alone… or so I thought?”
“Aye, well, ‘tis… aye, I made a mistake, that’s all,” I say as Kassidy’s eyes go for the sky and a smile teases her lips.
“Then I am Popsy and
I alone?” Aria tests.
I nod. “O’ course, Popsy, o’course.”
Kassidy arches one golden brow skeptically. “Returning to this cessation of hostilities you mentioned, Hook,” she starts as she turns her attention from me to Aria. “You can do that?”
Aria’s gaze is still unfriendly, and she just responds with a curt nod.
“She’s chatty,” Kassidy drawls, a dry, almost mirthless smile replacing her earlier delight. “I like her.”
“Ah, dinnae fight, please,” I say, barely holding back a groan. “I’m takin’ ye all to the same place. Cannae we just get along?”
“This... woman,” Aria says, tone clipped. “She’s your ally?”
“Yes,” Kassidy starts, but I take a step in front of her to let it be known I should answer Aria’s questions.
“Aye, a friend. An’ me passenger. I’d appreciate it if ye could both learn to talk to each other civilly.”
Aria saunters forward in a glide of hips that’s pretty damn mesmerizing to watch. I’m not the only one who thinks so. Bastion watches in fascination as well, as do about a half a dozen men in my periphery.
She looks down at Kassidy who looks right back up at her, fire burning in her emerald eyes.
“If you are a friend of Hook’s, I can consider you my ally as well,” Aria says finally, deigning to grace Kassidy with a tight smile at last. “Welcome.”
And then, before I can stop her, she leans forward to take Kassidy’s face in her long-fingered hands and gives her a long, rather wet kiss right on the lips. I do believe there is tongue involved, as well. It’s almost more interesting to watch than the sinuous roll of her hips and ass as she releases Kassidy’s face and walks away from us. Bastion follows her.
Kassidy blinks, following Aria’s retreating figure for a few seconds before she faces me. She appears a little dazed. Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one who finds Aria’s kisses drugging.
“Wow,” Nash says as his eyes travel from Kassidy to Aria and then back again. “Just… wow.”
“Uh... what was that?” Kassidy manages to croak a minute later.
“Whatever it was, can we see it again?” Sorren asks.
“Aria’s a wee bit... confused aboot what kissin’ is for,” I hedge, shrugging as I exhale and wonder how much and for how long I shall suffer from Kassidy on this subject. “She believes kissin’ is a greetin’.”
“And I’m sure you have nothing to do with her confusion, Hook?” Kassidy asks me and I can feel her suspicious stare boring a hole into the side of my face. I don’t meet her eyes. I know I was being a scoundrel, stealing kisses from the enchanting siren before she even knew what a kiss was. I have no doubt Kassidy is going to give me a dressing-down later. And truth be known, I deserve it.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Nash says with a rich, rolling laugh, “but I’d love to see that welcome again.”
Agreed. But aloud I say, “C’mon, ye bloody louts. If we want to make it to the castle before the witchin’ hour, we have to move our arses.”
Aria returns and takes up a position near my elbow, still casting glances at Kassidy. The expression vacillates from irritated to intrigued, as she watches Kassidy interact easily with her men.
“Humans can have more than one mate?” she murmurs, almost to herself.
“Perhaps there’s something useful about being human after all,” Bastion says, almost seeming to continue her line of thought.
I know the lad wants her. Can see it so plainly on his face, it’s painful to watch. Aria clearly has no idea what she’s doing to any of us. I smile thinly. If the lad has the courage to tell her, I won’t stand in his way.
I’m a pirate, but I’m not prone to that sort of greed. If the lass is inclined, I can share.
The question is, can Bastion?
EIGHT
ARIA
It’s shockingly easy to bypass the castle gates.
Not so long after we arrive, Hook reunites with his crew—four men, which brings our number up to ten. My emotions totter back and forth. I feel a little safer, moving in a school like this one—a much bigger school. At the same time, I dislike the fact that Hook’s attention is so thoroughly diverted by other people. In particular, he’s most excited to see his first mate, Sam.
Unreasonable hurt flashed through me when Hook announced his bond with Sam, calling Sam his ‘first mate’. I was immediately confused, as Sam was most decidedly male, and therefore I wondered how it was Hook hoped to mate with him? Was Hook confused? Did he not understand that Sam had no eggs to fertilize? I wondered if perhaps humans were as ignorant as Bastion believed them to be?
But then Hook patiently explained that to humans, the term ‘mate’ means friend, not lover. Usually. I find the whole subject of greetings and words with multiple meanings quite frustrating to say the least.
And then there is the subject of the female, Kassidy. I was quite irate when Hook called her by my name, Popsy. But then he explained it was a mere mistake and I felt infinitely better. Well, perhaps not infinitely. She is quite a comely creature and there was a level of friendliness between the two of them that caused me some chagrin.
Until I realized Kassidy possesses three husbands! I quite approve of her situation and I wonder how difficult it would be to duplicate. As I am more than certain I’ll have to offer my hand in marriage to the King of Delorood, I should also like to retain Hook, and marry him as well. Perhaps having two husbands will prove possible?
The werebears with whom Kassidy travels have a very reasonable view on the subject of mating, I believe. They would provide wonderful examples to all men! Kassidy is their mate, and they bristle any time someone new comes too near her. It’s still strange to learn that other species have more than one mate, although I quite approve of the practice, even if it is quite foreign to those who live beneath the sea.
Yes, it’s possible to mark more than one merman as my mate, but ultimately, both must do battle for the privilege of having me. Once my mate is chosen and the act consummated, any other marks I have put on others will disappear. It’s why I was not unduly worried about marking Hook. My mark will keep him alive, in the short term, until I can find a merman to mate. And when I do, the mark on Hook will disappear.
But... what if I never chose another?
I’ve never felt so... drawn to another being before, as I am to Hook. There’s something of a practiced charm about him, something he seems to direct at most people. But when we’re alone, some of that pretense slips away. He’s a sober man, beneath the smiles and japes. I think he might be just as serious as Bastion, when it comes down to it.
Hook steeps in deep melancholy. He doesn’t speak much about the place he comes from, this Neverland, but what tidbits I have been able to glean point toward a childhood as fraught as mine. Perhaps more so. He hasn’t said so, but Hook has had nothing and no one most of his life, from what I can tell. No one to take him in and offer comfort, the way Aunt Opeia has done for me. He’s happiest with his crew, it seems. So it’s selfish for me to horde him away like sunken treasure, even if I want to. And I do.
I blow a breath out of my mouth, flapping my lips. It’s something I’ve seen Hook do when he’s frustrated. It’s strangely satisfying. But then I grow disappointed and quite unhappy when I think of this… attachment I’ve formed for this strange human.
This dalliance is doomed to failure, I’m afraid, much as my imagination runs away with me. Hook is human. And I have less than two weeks to enjoy this new shape before Opeia’s magic gives out and I’m forced to return to the sea once more. Entertaining dreams of a future with Hook is absurd. He’s land bound. I’m tied irrevocably to the sea. It can’t happen.
Hook grins at me. “What’s that sound for, lass?”
Too embarrassed to admit my thoughts to him, I settle on a half-truth. “This journey is taking too long. Did we need to bring the cargo with us? Couldn’t the King send for it?”
Hook’s men drag a load
of crates in a cart behind us. Apparently, all but one of them were recovered and hauled to shore in their small craft after Hook’s ship sunk. Perhaps the Kraken ate the remaining crate? Or maybe it’s sitting at the bottom of the ocean. I care not.
“The cargo got us through the gates, aye?” He traces a thumb across my bottom lip, and tingles spread anywhere his fingers touch. My entire body yearns toward him. I wonder how he’d react if I shimmied out of the trousers I wear and guided his fingers toward my clam. As to that subject, Hook tells me it’s actually not a clam, but just a “sex organ” that is wholly my own. And he says I should not refer to it as a clam because doing so is quite… crude and slang, I believe the word was.
Hook calls this bizarre thing between my legs my quim. I’ve heard other words for it, since we left the hostel. Pussy. Cunt. Slit. Box. Minge. I think I like Hook’s name for it best.
“Yes,” I admit grudgingly. “I am glad the situation at the gates didn’t result in a fight. But I still hate being sticky.”
“Sweaty,” he corrects with another chuckle as he looks at the golden-haired woman and her husbands with a shrug and a smile. “Sweat is the liquid on yer forehead, Popsy,” he whispers to me.
“And what’s the stuff between my legs, then? The stuff that gets stickier whenever you touch it?”
The inquiry makes almost every head in the vicinity turn. Hook’s cheeks flame red, and it’s fascinating to watch. I was told humans bleed red. I’ve only ever seen the purple-black stuff that runs through my body. If I pricked myself now, would I also bleed red?
“That’s... different.’ He sounds embarrassed.
“It’s strange,” Bastion chimes in, nodding. “My todger does the same thing—it leaks. But only on the tip.”
“It leaks?” I ask as I turn to face him, thoroughly interested by the information.
Bastion nods. “Yes. A strange, sticky substance comes out. And I’ve noticed my todger quite has a mind of its own, in general, sometimes growing longer and stiffer. Especially each morning. Why is that, Hook?”
