Hook's Pan

by Marie Hall

  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.

  Chapter 7

  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.

  “If we were sinking, then where is the water, lass? Hmmm? Now,” his warm breath fanned the shell of her ear, “when I remove my hand, you will not yell. The ship is full of men who’d do much to get their hands on a body like yours.”

  Slowly, he peeled one finger off at a time. Her breathing was still choppy and hard, but his words had at least sunk in.

  “But…but,” she stuttered, trying to get her thoughts in order, “I saw a whale, right outside my window and it was glowing and purple and bizarre and…”

  His blue eyes were calm as they gazed on her face and it was that calm that eased her taut nerves. Wringing her hands, she licked her lips and nodded, beginning to suddenly feel embarrassed, which really sucked. She’d just acted like an ass, screaming like an idiot woman about the sinking boat.

  But if it wasn’t sinking, what was happening?

  She was going to ask him, when she noticed a gleam enter his expressive eyes. His gaze was slow and methodical as it traveled from the soles of her heels, up her thighs, her breasts, before finally coming to rest on her face. A small smile latched itself onto his wide (but not unpleasantly so) lips.

  “I can see why the captain decided to keep you to ‘emself.” His normally cultured voice broke for a second and the accent was much stronger this time. Wiping his hands on his creamy white knee high trousers, he held it out to her. “Monroe Smee.”

  Smee? As in the Smee? The bulbous nosed baboon? Why wasn’t he fat, or stammering, speaking in a high-pitched falsetto? Looking around the room, she had to admit it was as opposite from Hook’s as could possibly be. There was a bed pushed up against one corner of the wall, a lantern swinging from a hook beside it, and that was it.

  Narrowing her eyes, she slipped her hand into his. His fingers were rough and his grip tight. “Do you own a red cap?”

  A tiny line drew down between his brows. “What?”

  “Never mind.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Where is the captain?”

  He shook his head. “Topside, and you cannot go. There are men about. Until the captain deigns to let them know you even exist, you must stay below. ‘Tis Captain’s orders.”

  She giggled, hearing the cartoon Smee in her head with his little snively voice. But this Smee and that Smee were not at all alike.

  This one was glowering and his sun-burnished hair was poking up around his head like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket. In fact, the man was big and imposing. Though his voice wasn’t as whiskey deep as his boss’s, this was a man, and no doubt about it.

  His skin was dark and golden, the musculature of his body obvious beneath the tan shirt because of the light that reflected off it, highlighting the taut lines of his body beneath.

  She swallowed hard and took a step back. Years ago she’d taken a self-defense course in college, Krav Maga. Great for close combat fighting, but she was rusty and really didn’t relish the thought of getting down and dirty right now.

  “Relax, you belong to the Captain, none can harm you so long as you remain under his care. That said, I’m sure the men must have heard your bloody screaming, thank the Goddess they are a superstitious lot and since we’re moving through the drop they likely believe it to be the voice of Calypso herself.”

  He said it like he was chastising her. Jeez, not like she’d asked to get dumped here. “Good to know,” she grumbled.

  “Now,” he tied up his shirt laces, “if I can trust you not to scream, I’ll go find him for you if you’d like.”

  Did she want to see him?

  Not really, but then again, she didn’t want to be alone either. She just wanted to talk, to understand what in the hell was going on. “Yeah, fine.”

  Snorting with mirth, he opened the door, keeping a hold of her shoulder as he peeked out and looked both ways down the long hall. “Go back to your room. I’ll send him to you in a jiff.”

  Tugging at her frock, she tiptoed back down the hall and into the room, closing the door firmly behind her with a loud sigh of relief.

  She stared out the porthole, wondering if maybe she’d been going just a little nutters earlier. But no, the world outside was as alive and as fascinating as before, more so even, because now she knew she wasn’t going to drown if she stayed to enjoy it.

  Letting go of the knob, she made her way back to the window, pressing her nose once more to the pane, and sighed in awe.

  It was night when he’d left her here alone with her thoughts, but it didn’t look like any night she’d ever seen. The waters were a deep teal, but shaded like they might be at dusk. Creatures swam around.

  Snaggle toothed sharks, their leathery hide shaded in colors she’d never seen on earth flicked thick muscular tails as they swam idly by. There were green sharks, pink sharks, red and blue ones. Tiny schools of fish zipped and darted around them, but what made them so amazing was that they were all a mother of pearl color, gleaming different shades at different angles. Beds of coral, in every color of the rainbow glowed, while the greenest seaweed she’d ever seen swayed and danced in the waters, looking like emeralds the way the light refracted off them.

  Her mouth tipped into a tiny smile. She’d never been someone who’d thought much of the ocean, or the sea. Seeing a beach had never topped her bucket list, and yet she found herself wondering why not.

  It was breathtaking.

  “Beautiful isn’t it?”

  Yelping at the sound of his whiskey deep drawl, she twirled and grabbed her frantically beating heart. “I didn’t hear you.”

  He smirked, and her heart thrummed. The blood in her veins sang and her body once again went completely off kilter at the sight of him.

  The man was potent.

  “Smee said you’d called for me.” His lips twitched. “Rather loudly too. Something about a ship sinking.”

  She chuckled, feeling heat slither up her neck and settle in her cheeks. “Yeah, well…” She pointed to the porthole. “It sure looks like we’ve sunk. How is this possible?”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared at her. The heat of his gaze made her stomach bottom out and she curled her toes into the plush rug.

  “What?” she asked, disgusted to hear the breathlessness in her voice. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and she was sure as hell no virgin, but something about this man made her feel dizzy.

  He rolled large shoulders before leaning against the cabin wall, crossing his arms over his chest. A familiar pose she was noticing. “I’m just trying to see her in you.”

  Her lashes fluttered. “So you believe that too? That I was a mermaid in a past life?” she scoffed, waiting for him to join in.

  “You don’t? No memories of another life? I’ve been told, pretty convincingly, that you were.”

  Brushing bangs out of her eyes, she shook her head. “No. No dreams, no memories of another life. And I definitely think I’d remember if I’d had a tail, wouldn’t you?”

  “Happened a long time ago. So long in fact,” he pushed off the wall, and sat at his desk, yanking open a drawer and pulling out another decanter and tumbler, “that I doubt it myself.”

  Popping open the bottle, he tipped it toward her, a question on his face.

  “No, I haven’t eaten, I’ve got terrible gerd and trust me,” she laughed, “you do not want to be around me when I’m having an attack. I go all postal and grrr and rwar and it’s ugly.”

  His brows furrowed and then he laughed, but the sound was one like he wasn’t sure whether he should or not. “You’re a strange, little bird, are you not?”

  Every single Colin Firth fantasy was coming to life right now, and for just a second she was tempted to ask him to call her Ms. Bennet, just once…but maybe that was pushing it just a little too far.

  She studied her nails. “I don’t know at all what you mean.”

  “I mean,” he poured a glass full, drank it back and then poured another, “th
at you are always rambling on about the most nonsensical things and for reasons unknown to me I find you very amusing. Why is that?”

  Walking over to the bed, she dropped down onto it, then crawled to the center before criss-crossing her legs. “You’re asking me why I amuse you? Gah, I don’t know. I amuse everyone, it’s why I’m so darn popular.”

  He licked his lips, and just the sight of his bright pink tongue made her pulse flutter. “Did you know that red is my favorite color?”

  “What?” She had a hard time tracking his change of topic.

  Leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled out, he looked like the king of his castle and an excited shiver ran down her spine.

  “The color of your underwear.” The glass hovered around his lips and she licked her own at the sexy drawl in his words. “Red. I like it. A lot.”