Life in Neverland: Book 3 of The Neverland Trilogy

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Life in Neverland: Book 3 of The Neverland Trilogy Page 7

by Heather C. Myers


  “Hello,” he finally said, his voice sharp and gruff. He looked hesitant. Unsure. Something she would never have associated with Nick.

  Magda swallowed. “Hello,” she said.

  The two were silent for a long moment, simply just staring at one another. Magda felt her resolve weaken at the sight of him. Already, she was making excuses for him, ready and willing to give him another chance, more time to figure it out, anything that would prolong the situation where she did not have to give him up just yet.

  “Get a grip on yourself,” she muttered under her breath.

  She thought he had not heard her, but a smirk slithered on his face. “Still talking to yourself, Tink?” he asked in his deep voice.

  He called her Tink. That had to be a good sign.

  “We need to talk,” she told him, keeping her eyes firmly in his. She could not back down. It did not matter how hard her heart pounded against her chest and echoed in her ears. It did not matter how beautiful he appeared before her, standing there in all his lovely glory.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “We do.”

  “You owe me an explanation,” she went on. Her hands were now placed on her hips, her head cocked to the side. Magda had no idea where to begin this important conversation so she was attempting to stall for time. She hoped he did not notice. She hoped he caught on and took control of the conversation himself.

  “I do,” he said.

  Magda opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself. She bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep the words that wanted to spill out over her lips at bay. She needed to dam them in, to keep from babbling and making herself look like a fool.

  “Would you like to discuss it now?” he asked, perking his brow.

  She could not tell if he was prolonging everything as a way to tease her or if he did not realize what he was doing. Certainly, he knew. He had to know.

  “Yes,” she said. It was a one-syllable word, and yet, it came out shaky. She immediately clamped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw together. Magda was trying so hard not to show her emotions, not to reveal just how important this conversation was to her, but it would appear that the more she tried to hide it, the more the emotions came out regardless.

  He nodded his head and looked out at the sea. “Right,” he said. “You’re right. We should talk now before things get busy.”

  Busy. That was a nice way of putting it. The Masquerade, retrieving Remy, destroying The Magistrate, forever changing the way The Neverland worked… It was more than a little busy. It was near-impossible. Lives were on the line – forever lives – and she wanted to get this complication out of the way so it did not serve as a distraction.

  Magda nodded her head once. She clamped her lips together to keep from speaking. She wasn’t normally the type to ramble and she definitely did not speak if she could help it, but something about Nick, something about what he did to her, caused her to act more foolish than she ever thought she would. And that included speaking when she did not have to.

  She said enough on the matter. It was his turn to speak now, and she did not need him to prompt him to do so.

  Nick cupped the back of his neck with his palm – his hand was so big, Magda could see his fingers wrap around the sides of his throat – and his dark eyes were looking at the wooden deck beneath his feet. He clearly looked uncomfortable, as though he were searching for the words to say. As if he did not know what to say.

  Magda felt her heart drop at this. He could not even figure out how to tell her he loved her? Or worse, how to tell her he did not?

  Finally, he picked his eyes off the floor and locked them with hers. His jaw was set, determined. “I love you,” he said, and his voice was strong, confident.

  Magda’s heart released the tension she did not realize she was holding onto. The strain made her shoulders slump and she felt her lips curl up slightly at the prospect that he truly did love her, that he did not deny it.

  “I did not expect to love you, but I do,” he continued. “You are unlike any other woman I have ever met, and I’m still unsure if that is a good thing or not. The reason why I pushed you away is because I was scared of what my love for you means. To be honest, I still am scared. You are the last person I thought I would ever love and now that I do, I have no idea what to do with that information. If you were anyone else, I’d be able to. I would know exactly how to treat you. I would know exactly what to say. But you…” He shook his head, causing dark locks to fall into his face and litter his forehead. “You are a mystery to me. And that’s a good thing.”

  Magda swallowed, allowing him to speak. He was rambling and she didn’t know if he knew what he was really saying. Not that it mattered, per se, but it was interesting to see a pirate captain, usually so confident in who he was and what to do in any given situation, react so helplessly.

  “I’ve been a coward since the storm,” Nick told you. “I’ve been a coward since you kissed me because that is the best damn kiss I’ve ever had and all I’ve wanted to do since then is to kiss you over and over again.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Her voice came out weak and cracked. Not the sort of voice one should have when talking about kissing, but Magda could not help it. When Nick spoke like this, it made her entire throat run dry and no matter how many times she tried to moisten it with her own saliva, she found it did not work.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, and before Magda even realized what was happening, he easily closed the gap between the two of them, took her head in his hands, and kissed her.

  The kiss was so fast, she nearly didn’t have time to react. However, her instincts took over and she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and kissed him back. He teased her mouth open with his own, coaxing her to let him outside while simultaneously using his body to push her until her back hit the railing of the ship. She was not afraid, however. She knew he would never let her fall.

  His grip on her was tight, secure and stable, exploring her curves over her clothes, messing up her hair, touching her skin and leaving a trail of searing hot torches. He took her breath away, which was a hard thing to do because Magda was usually not so easily impressed and always on her guard, ready to deny any sort of indulgence. But with Nick, she was open and free, responding to every little touch with a gasp or a whimper. She wanted nothing more than to stay like this for a long while, but certainly there were people around, certainly they would see…

  The thought came the exact moment they needed to take a step back and acquire air. At that moment, Magda looked to her right and found James off on the other side of the ship, simply staring at the two. There was a look of wistfulness of his face, one she had never seen there before, and she was not sure how to feel about it. He was not judging her per se. If anything, he seemed to be thinking about something…

  Possibly someone.

  When he noticed her catch him watching her, he did not look away. He did not shrug or look ashamed or apologetic. Instead, his look changed from being wistful to being cautious. It wasn’t approval but it wasn’t judgment, either. It was more like Be careful. Which she appreciated. She gave him a small half-smile in return and nodded once, hoping to do it so subtly Nick wouldn’t even notice.

  That was something she should not have worried about. Nick was too busy kissing the column of her throat, and before Magda knew it, she could not look at James anymore because she needed to concentrate of Nick and his tortuous, pleasurable ministrations to her body.

  Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she wrapped her arms around Nick’s neck, pulling him even closer than he already was, which should not have been possible. When she popped one eye open, James was gone, which was a good thing because she did not think he’d be comfortable watching the scene unfold between the way it was going.

  Nick’s lips left a burning trail up her neck and across her jawline until they found her lips once more. He kissed her so hard she was certain they would bruise, but she did not care. In fact, she kissed him back with
just as much passion, with just as much fervor, that he brought to her. She moaned through the kiss – a sound she had never heard herself emit before, a sound she could not control. She felt Nick smile through it, proud that he was able to get such a reaction from her. She was in such a state of bliss she could not find it in her to be annoyed.

  “God, I love kissing you,” Nick finally said when they were forced apart due to the necessity of breathing. He leaned his forehead against hers, his shoulders hunched over, towering over her in all of his beautiful glory. He was like a sunset – she could not look away from him. He was captivating and sensual and more than she ever expected. “It’s a beautiful experience, kissing you.”

  She did not know what to say to that, so she remained silent. Instead, she let herself relax in his arms and lean her head back against his. Her eyes closed, gently this time, and she could not help but feel herself get lulled into contentment due to the waves of the ocean rocking the ship, the sound of the ocean as it rolled to shore, the warmth of the sun that tickled her exposed skin.

  Magda was happy. Wonderfully and truly happy.

  “Tink,” Nick said, pulling his head back and looking at her with hesitant brown eyes. She tilted her head to the side, sending him a questioning look. “I want to apologize. For everything I’ve put you through. It’s not an excuse by any means, but I want you to know that I just didn’t know how to handle my feelings for you. I still don’t. But I know I won’t push you away again. Not when you feel so good so close.”

  Magda nodded once, deciding not to berate him for that insufferable nickname he gave her.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. His eyes were like cannonballs, blowing holes in her skin, the protective shields she placed around her body. “For waiting for me. I didn’t deserve it by any stretch, but I am so glad you did.”

  “I am, too,” she admitted, a small smile on her face. Then, “I’ll always wait for you, Nick. You’re worth waiting for.”

  And she meant it.

  Ten

  The Masquerade was three days away. Remy was doing a fitting in her room and The Magistrate’s mansion on some island she did not remember the name of. Pam was helping her with the measurements, but the women at the shop had done a fabulous job so there wasn’t much left to fix.

  “Tell me, Pam,” Remy said, her hands pressed flat on her stomach as she tried to control her impeded breathing. Something inside of Remy told her Pam purposefully tied the corset too tight after what happened between them a couple of days ago; how Remy finally stood up for herself and called Pam out on the lies. “What should I expect at this Masquerade? Is there anything I’m required to do besides show up and look pretty?”

  “I think you should be asking me that question, my dear.”

  Remy was glad she did not jump at The Magistrate’s silent entrance. Pam pricked her finger with her sewing needle and let out a muffled whimper. Remy clenched her jaw to keep from reacting, to keep from saying anything she might later regret. Instead, she found The Magistrate in the mirror, and coolly locked eyes with the woman.

  “Pam,” The Magistrate said, though she did not take her eyes off of Remy, “leave us. I will take over from here. There is much I need to discuss with our guest.”

  Pam stood up and with one nod of ascent, she vanished.

  The Magistrate shook her head. “Shaky girl,” she muttered to herself. “Can I find no woman strong enough to look me in the eye?”

  Remy remained silent. She was certain these questions were rhetorical.

  “You have questions, my dear,” The Magistrate stated, sliding down to her knees to continue to fix the hem of Remy’s dress. She moved with the grace of a cat, and Remy had to admit she was taken by surprise at the fact that The Magistrate would deign to partake in servants’ work. “Before you ask, let me tell you about this Masqueradel. When I have finished, ask me anything you want. Yes?” She raised a brow.

  Remy nodded. “That is fair,” she agreed.

  “This Masquerade happens annually between The Creator, James, and I where we discuss everything that is wrong with The Neverland and offer suggestions on how to resolve those issues,” The Magistrate began. Remy could feel the tug of her dress and knew The Magistrate was sewing. “Usually, Hook and I clash with what we feel is a problem and, more than that, what we should do to solve that problem. Of course, we never listen to each other because we believe that we are correct. The sole thing we agree on is that The Neverland needs one ruler – three rulers for three realms does not unite us, and our inhabitants have no respect for a law that changes in order to benefit authority figures. The problem is the authority figures in each realm – the Guard, the governors – have loyalties to different people. Corruption is rampant. No one respects the law. No one fears the consequences. However, that would change if one person was in charge.”

  “And you want that responsibility?” Remy asked, arching a skeptical brow. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she felt a newly-born confidence surge through her veins, a confidence she had never felt before; not here, and not back home. She could talk to The Magistrate in whichever way she wanted because she knew The Magistrate needed her. It was a test, a push.

  She watched with sharp eyes as The Magistrate narrowed her dark orbs, detecting the attitude clear in Remy’s tone, but The Magistrate chose not to comment on it. In fact, she forced a smile on her angular face.

  “I do,” she told Remy. “However, it is more than just want compelling me into action, but obligation. I believe I am owed this position due to the work I’ve already put in. I was in charge of The Neverland, not The Other World, not The Paradise. The Neverland is much like being in charge of a town. It has a variety of different people coming and going. Things are more hectic, more difficult to adapt to. Hook rules one world with one type of people. The Creator rules one world with the best type of people. I rule one world with a mixture of the two.”

  “It sounds like,” Remy began, her index finger tapping on her chin, “and feel free to correct me if I am wrong, but The Creator is in charge of both you and James.”

  The Magistrate nodded her head once, but it was stiff. Clearly, The Magistrate did not appreciate the fact that she had to listen to anyone’s authority.

  “So will The Creator decide between the two of you?” Remy asked, furrowing her brow. “How do you plan on getting the power you so desperately want?”

  “Simple,” The Magistrate said, the tension disappearing from her face with a simple change of topic. “You are my secret weapon. The Creator has more power than both James and me, but if I have you, I can show The Creator that I have a way to control souls. I have a way to gather them without the use of Nick.”

  Remy frowned. “What does Captain Grey have anything to do with this?” she asked.

  “Nicholas Grey is a Breather, much like you,” she said. “He’s also a pirate and one of the reasons why – if not the main reason why – chaos exists in The Neverland. He is a pirate, taking the law into his hands and doing what he wants with it. He’s wanted at every port here. If there was a way to transport souls to their final resting place without him, the chaos should disappear.” The Magistrate took a step back from Remy and clasped her hands behind her back, beginning to pace. “You see, without Nick, The Neverland is easier to control. It would be easier to stabilize. However, The Creator has taken a shine to him, for some unknown reason I will never understand. Instead of killing him, your presence here will allow The Creator to return Nick to earth without harming him.”

  “Me?” Remy asked.

  “You,” The Magistrate agreed. “The way you attract souls is more accurate in less time. They clamor to you, not to your boat. And they’ll follow you through anything, just to be around a piece of life.”

  “But.” Remy cocked her head to the side, pressing her brow together. “Why me? That’s what I don’t understand. If Nick and I are alive, why is it that the souls have a stronger reaction to me than they
do to him?”

  The Magistrate’s painted lips curled up and her eyes sparkled. “Because you, my dear,” she said, slowly pacing around Remy’s body, the heel of her boots echoing off the floor, “escaped death. You are more than alive, you see. You died and then slipped through the cracks of The Neverland and returned to earth. Your heart re-started. Nick has never died before. He’s been alive on a consistent basis, and while souls are attracted to life, they are even more attracted to someone who died and then escaped.”

  “Why?”

  The Magistrate shrugged, making the simple gesture look graceful. “I cannot say,” she said, and Remy could tell she was being honest. “I believe it has to do with the fact that you are more like them than Nick. They are dead, as you once were. If you can go back to life, perhaps they can as well. You give them hope.”

  Remy scrunched her nose together. “That’s a really morbid way for me to brandish hope,” she said, more to herself.

  The Magistrate answered anyway. “It is,” she agreed. “They will follow you everywhere. And that is why I want you. I know you care for Nick, but his head is wanted in every port in The Neverland for a variety of different reasons. However, he is the only means of transporting souls to their final resting place and throughout The Neverland because the souls will follow his ship. If you were to agree to take his place for me, I would be able to return him to earth.”

  “Do you have that power?” Remy asked. “The question is not to be insulting but to gauge just what you can and cannot do. From what I’m hearing, The Creator seems to be pulling all of the strings. How do you know The Creator will agree to return Nick to earth, especially if she condemned him here in the first place?”

  “I don’t,” The Magistrate said. “However, having you in Nick’s place would be a good, persuasive tool, especially considering the job will still get done.”

  “If I agree,” Remy cut in. The Magistrate’s eyes flashed but Remy held her own. She did not flinch, did not look away. She had all of the power here. “You cannot simply use me against my will. I don’t know a lot of how things work down here, but I do know that.”

 

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