by Marie Hall
Groaning, exhaustion lacing every inch of her body, she reached for it. “What?” she snapped, never a morning person to begin with.
“Umm… Trisha, is this a good time?”
“Betty?” Jerking to an upright position, she almost sobbed. It’d been a month since she’d last seen her best friend. “Where the hell are you?”
“Home.”
Trisha could almost picture the smile on her friend’s gorgeous face, she sounded happy. A tiny pang centered in the blackest corner of her heart. Not that she wasn’t happy for Betty, she was, but Betty had proven her theory wrong.
Not all men deserved to be neutered.
Like it or not, Gerard was a nice guy and made her friend happy. Trisha would have bet her life’s savings the first time she’d met him that he was just another wolf in sheep’s clothing, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he adored Betty.
“How long this time?” She twisted the phone cord around her finger.
“A day.”
Dropping her head to her chest, she sighed. “Oh.”
“Trish, honey, you okay? You seem down.”
Way too close to home. Straightening her spine, she assumed the mask she always wore—the one that laughed and breathed and lived and didn’t ever fracture.
“Me? Pft, whateves… You know I just miss ya. Anyways, what’s up?”
There was a long enough pause that Trisha thought maybe she’d laid it on too thick. “Well,” Betty drawled, “Gerard and I kind of have some things to tell you.”
She laughed, easing into her role. “Oh yeah, spit it.”
“Uh-uh, we have to meet face to face. Can’t tell you these things over the phone.”
Curious now, Trisha stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Well, it’s gonna have to be fast. Don’t know if you remember that today’s the annual town play.”
A stupid tradition that for some reason she volunteered for every year. This year she’d got the lead part. Acting was easy. It was something she did every day of her life.
Several years ago, while in college, she’d been approached by a scout for an off Broadway production. Trisha had been so excited and ready to go, but then Betty’s life had gone to hell in a hand basket and she’d known she couldn’t just leave her friend to pick up the pieces alone. She’d stayed and eventually Betty had met Gerard and left.
It wasn’t the same thing as what’d happened with Jacq, but it stung sometimes, how it felt like everyone she ever loved, left. She was trapped in Missouri, a place she hated, and no one really cared. Not even her parents who now lived in Destin, Florida.
“Oh, yeah…that’s right,” Betty’s voice rose with excitement, “Awesome. I’ve got to pick up Briley, he’s hanging out with Uncle Gerard and I today, maybe we can head over to the play. What’s the show by the way?”
“Peter Pan.” She studied her blunt nails. “Guess who’s Peter.”
Again there was another long pause. Then a burst of laughter. “Oh jeez, Trisha, you’re never going to believe…” There was some mumbling behind Betty that sounded faintly like Gerard’s shivery voice. The tone of it never failed to elicit a tingly sigh in response from Trisha. Not that she wanted Gerard, but French accents were all sorts of sexy. “Yeah, she’s playing Peter Pan,” Betty spoke to him. There was a strong bout of laughter and something that sounded suspiciously like “Enfer” before Betty returned to the line. “Okay, seriously we gotta chat. I’ll take Briley to the park later. Can we do lunch beforehand?”
“Umm…sure.”
What was so funny about playing Peter Pan? Women played that role in plays all the time.
“You wearing the costume?” Betty asked.
“Pretty much have to, part of the role you know.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Betty squealed. “Okay, what time?”
Her friend was acting weird. Which was kind of not all that uncommon. Betty was a geek with a capital G. How the two of them had ever found common ground Trisha would never know.
“Six.”
“Good. That’s enough time. Kisses,” Betty breathed and then the line went dead.
Lifting a brow, Trisha stared at the receiver. “Weirdo.”
~*~
Danika was sipping a cup of tea at her kitchen table when the bellowing sound of her name jerked her out of the seat. It was a voice she was coming to recognize.
The Huntsman. Ever since Ewan and Red had married, Danika hadn’t had a choice but to seek out a new tracker. Next to the big bad wolf, Huntsman was said to be the best. But he’d not come cheap.
Growling, she opened the door of her mushroom cap home. The glare of sunlight made her squint as she stared at the shadowy silhouette. Shading her eyes, she shook her head. “Huntsman?”
Dressed in buckskin and covered in scars, his steel blue eyes locked with her own. Brushing brown curls out of his face, he clipped his head. “Danika,” full lips pressed into thin slits as he took a step closer. “You asked me to keep watch on the harbor.” His thick Gaelic accent increased with obvious agitation. “The ship has sailed. Headed toward the Glen.”
Leaping into the air, she flew toward him. “Damn,” she sighed, “I believe he’s searching for Tink again. I must warn my sisters. Keep an eye on the ship. If he gets there before I do, let me know.”
With a nod of his head he vaporized, sifting into a million grains of fine sand before swirling out the door and disappearing into the air.
Straightening her vest, Danika rolled her eyes. “Bloody Hook.” Now her tea would grow cold. With a long-suffering sigh, she took off, but knew in her heart she’d probably be too late for a warning. She could only hope Hook wasn’t in a killing mood.
~*~
“I swear to you, Dani,” Tink held James at wand point.
Unholy fire gleamed in the liquid ink of Hook’s eyes. Even with his hands bound behind his back and forced to his knees, he still managed to reek of defiance and fury.
Huntsman had a knee in his back and a fist in his raven’s wing black hair. Judging by the bloody marks and scratches covering the hunter’s face, Hook hadn’t given in so easily. Likely, without Tinkerbell’s assistance, Huntsman would even now be grappling with the enraged captain.
Danika held her hands out stiffly. “Tink, put your wand down. Clearly he is drunk and therefore cannot be held responsible for his actions.”
“Not,” James snarled, “too drunk to not rip your bloody head from your scrawny neck, you whoremongering fairy.” He glared at Tink, snarling and exposing blunt canines as he jerked against Huntsman’s hold. The stoic hunter merely grunted and shoved his knee in harder.
Tinkerbell glowered.
Danika grabbed her skull. Her boys, every last one of them…they’d all lost their minds. It was times like these that she wondered what had ever made her want to deal with the villains of Kingdom. Surely Charming never gave his godmother such a hellashish time. Then again Charming was as dull as dirty dishwater, there was that.
“Look at the destruction, look what he’s done, Dani,” Tink commanded, swishing her free hand around her.
Dozens of fairies lay scattered on the grass, eyes woozy and wings twisted around their bodies. Some were groaning, others sitting up and looking dazed.
“You must understand,” Danika began.
“No,” Tinkerbell sliced her hand through the air, “I understand just fine.” Her long blonde hair rippled down her back like living water.
Of all the godmother’s, Tinkerbell was perhaps the most famous. But what few knew about the iconic fairy was that she was an out and out sadist. Tink was never so happy as when inflicting torture upon others. The only one immune from her brand of loving were her boys, everyone else was free game.
Mother of pearl moth’s wings flitted agitatedly as Tink drew closer to Danika.
“You would do anything to save him, is that it?” Sharp baby fangs peeked out from beneath full red lips. “Because know this… I’ll kill him before I let him lay a h
and on my Peter.”
Letting all humanity bleed from her eyes, Danika cocked her head just slightly. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to frighten me? Don’t forget who I am wee fae. I’m much more than the façade I wear.”
And to further drive the point home, Danika revealed her true face—the one of legend, of nightmares. She rarely showed it, preferring others to misjudge her, to believe her weak and docile. But she was none of those things and no one threatened her boys. Ever.
Tinkerbell’s jaw trembled, though she tried hard not to let on, Danika smirked when she saw the frightened glint in her violet blue eyes.
“Aye, I thought so. Besides,” Danika transformed back to the slightly chubby, gray haired fae, “let’s not forget who started this war. I could very easily have made mincemeat of your boy then. I was well within my rights. But come, come, let us be friends. Give me Hook, and I’ll punish him severely. What say you?”
James’ lips twitched.
Audibly grinding her jaw, Tinker withdrew her wand and slid it back into her briarwood vest. “You have a point,” she reluctantly admitted. “But watch your charge, Dani, next time he comes traipsing into the glen, I’ll not be so nice.” Tink’s smile was nothing but sharp teeth in a face as pleasant looking as any china doll.
Restraining the urge to hiss, Dani simply smiled until Tink was out of sight, then the smile turned into a full on glare. “I hate that woman,” she muttered. Barely able to refrain from rolling her eyes, Danika twirled on Hook.
“Get the mongrel off me,” he sneered, jerking his eyes in the direction of the Huntsman.
At a nod of her head, the Huntsman released the wad of James’ hair he’d been holding on to. Rubbing his neck, Hook looked at her.
“Well?” she snapped, waiting for an answer.
A gentle breeze stirred the leaves through the glen, filling the air with the pungent aroma of orange blossoms and hyacinth. Fluffy white clouds floated through the robin’s egg blue sky—a beautiful day.
And Danika wanted to scream.
“I’m fed up, Hook!”
His nose curled. “You know what she’s done to me. I’ve no choice but to seek out the gnats. I swore an oath of vengeance and that is all that has carried me through these long years.”
Grunting, Danika rolled her eyes. “And am I one of those gnats?”
His smirk was full on lusty, his eyes sparking with a devilish gleam as he made his way slowly to his feet. “Gnat. No. Though now that I’ve seen your true face… You put all the rest to shame. Why hide such fierce beauty?”
Feeling just the tiniest bit of pride from his words, she shrugged off the compliment as best she could. “James, what happened here,” she pointed to the pile of fairies still slow to regain their feet, “it cannot, no…it must not continue. Galeta allows me the privilege of working with you boys so long as you-”
“Bah.” Swaggering up to her, he tilted her chin up with the fine edge of his steel hook. “Why do you continue to work for that—”
Jerking free, she shook her head. “I’ve my reasons and yours are not to question mine. I must know, Hook, it’s been so long. Is there no hope? Does Talia haunt you so fiercely that you’ll never move on? It’s been a century. She would never have wanted to see this.”
Clenching his stubbled jaw, he glanced at his feet and for a moment she saw the play of emotion as it crossed his face. Anger, regret, sorrow… Then taking a deep breath he met her gaze. “Her death haunts me—why Pan did it. Why? To hurt me? It is the unknown of that question that consumes my thoughts. It is not my love for her that burns now, but vengeance, hatred. That is what makes me tick. I miss her, but I loathe him.”
Running her hand across her forehead she nodded. When Hook had found Talia, his darker tendencies had abated, somewhat. He’d always been slightly rotten, but in a ‘you hate to love them’ sort of way. Knowing that he did not still feel an undying devotion to his dead lover was actually a good step. It meant there was hope for Trisha and for him.
“Get back to your ship,” she said finally. “Head toward the Seren Sea and play like a good, little boy until my return.”
Nostrils flaring, he lifted a dark brow. “I’m not your plaything, Danika. You know my reasons and why I seek my revenge. I will have that boy’s head on a pike, with or without your help.”
Truly, Danika hated the boy almost as much as Hook. Why Tink had ever fallen in with his crowd, she’d never know. It would do the boy some good to receive a thrashing, rotten child that he was. Mayhap even a caning….
“There is more to life than your obsession with a ten-year old hellion. Believe me, please, Hook, go to your ship and stay. Trust me to do what’s best for you.”
He held her gaze for so long she thought he meant to argue further, maybe even damn her to Hell, but he didn’t. He simply turned, gathered his gear from the ground, and marched back to the beach without saying another word.
Huntsman lifted a dark, shaggy brow, waiting for her to give him the next directive.
Huffing with impatience, Danika smacked her lips. The man was intense, beautiful, but intense. Couldn’t he figure out what to do on his own? “Go,” she waved her hand, “do something. Go.”
He didn’t move, simply eyed her with a flinty eyed gaze that saw entirely too much. “Do you wish me to follow him?”
“Bloody hell, Huntsman, can you not think on your own? Do whatever it is you do, follow him, yes, of course. But so long as he stays aboard his ship, drink, be merry, take a whore or two.” She shrugged.
Frowning, his jaw worked from side to side and in that moment, Danika wondered if the man had any idea what fun actually was.
“Do you know how to relax, Huntsman?”
His nostrils flared and she sensed that perhaps there’d be another project in her very near future. “Go, go,” she whisked him off again, humming happily beneath her breath.
A fairy godmother’s work was never done.
Chapter 3
Trisha bopped her leg up and down under the restaurant table, the green Peter Pan tights twisted around her crotch making her itchy and uncomfortable. Ugh, this was awful, and everyone was looking. She felt ridiculous in the too tight costume, but it was opening night, fliers and billboards were scattered throughout the town. Everyone had to know she wasn’t wearing this because she’d developed a sudden fetish for all things Pan.
Finally spotting Betty and Gerard, she got to her feet and rushed onto the sidewalk, ready to embrace her friend.
But then she saw something that caused her brain to temporarily short. Betty had a belly. A big one. A big, pregnant looking one.
What the HE Double L?
Hadn’t she just seen Betty last month? There’d not been a stomach then. Blinking, she frowned. “Bets? What’s?” she couldn’t finish her thought, could only point at her stomach.
Gerard’s smile was sensual, as was everything the man did; he always managed to ooze sex, even when he wasn’t trying. He rubbed her belly, confirming what was clearly obvious.
Betty was pregnant. And advanced.
“What is going on here?” she screwed her face up, looking at her friend for some answers. “How long, and why didn’t I know about this sooner?”
Grimacing nervously, Betty threw Gerard a tight smile and then pointed to the small, black bistro table.
“Let’s sit,” she said.
“You’re really freaking me out now, you know.” Trisha licked her lips, eyeing the two of them. “Why are you guys acting so weird?”
“Well, it's silly really." Betty was fluttering her wrist like a broken butterfly's wing, which told Trisha she was hiding something.
“Bets…” Trisha hedged, “what’s going on?”
Gerard pulled out the seat for Betty, than for himself. Tossing him a grateful smile, Betty sat with a tiny sigh. “Okay, I promise to tell you everything, but let’s eat first, please. The baby is demanding food and I’m gonna yak soon if I don’t give it to her.”
Thoroughly confused, all Trisha could do was shake her head. “Fine, yeah, whatever. And it’s a girl? What the hell? I’m not gonna pretend like I’m not incredibly aggravated with you guys right now.” She eyed them both hard and was gratified to see them lower their eyes at least.
Not cool that her best friend of nearly two decades would keep something like that from her. Not. Cool. At. All.
If she was honest she wasn’t just miffed, she was hurt too. And that sucked worse.
