But then, look at where they were. Look at how she came to be here. Magic did exist, in some form or another. Perhaps dismissing fairies outright was not the most acceptable answer.
“A fairy,” he snarled, his nose wrinkling in frustration. “Do you know what fairies are or do I have to explain that to you as well?”
Remy opened her mouth to retort defensively but she stopped herself from following through. She had to try and remind herself that Peter was lashing out because this was some big secret she was extracting from him and he must not be happy about it. She wouldn’t be happy about it either, but this was the only way to try and come up with a plan on how to help herself and her friends.
“Is that how you’re able to travel between worlds?” she asked. “This one and earth?”
Peter nodded. “In a way,” he said, his voice strained, like he was trying to keep the words from coming out but failing. “You have to still be tied to earth in order to go there. Technically, you’re still alive. You can still go back if you want to go back. Same with Nick.”
Remy chewed on this piece of information, her brows furrowed. “But I heard you died on earth,” she said.
“Most people believe I died but that doesn’t mean I did,” Peter said.
“Then how are you fairy?” Remy asked. “What’s your origin?”
Peter swallowed. He looked away, his face contorted into a glare, his lips thin white lines. Finally, he said, “My father is fairy. My mother is not. My father found out how to travel to earth through the door on Nick’s ship. I’m certain you are familiar with it. Well, the bastard forgot to lock the bloody door and my father got out. He went to London, saw my mother, and took her without even bothering with such formalities such as consent. Then, he left her sullied and alone. Her parents turned her away due to her lack of virtue. She had no marriage prospects. She died giving birth to me and that was how I ended up at the orphanage.”
“How did you find out about The Neverland?” Remy asked, her voice quiet. She did not want to feel any sympathy for this man, this boy, but she found she could not help it. It also explained why he hated Nick. Nick forgot to lock the door. But it wasn’t fair to hold him responsible for it.
“My father,” Peter said, bitterness evident in his voice.
Remy furrowed her brow. “Your father?” She was not sure what else to say but hoped he would elaborate without much pushing. It appeared as though this was a difficult subject.
“My father raped my mother,” he said with a snarl. “My mother was a poor woman he happened upon during one of his visits to earth. He liked the look of her and he decided to take instead of ask. Once he was done, he left her in the street, no longer interested. She stumbled upon a church for help, who took her in and gave her aid, food, and shelter during her pregnancy. One of the sisters, Catherine, knew there was something different about my origin and with my mother’s recollection, determined that my father was fairy from a different world and that might complicate the pregnancy. It didn’t. Not until she gave birth to me. I was born with wings – tiny wings, but sharp enough to cut my mother, killing her during birth. They barely saved me. Some regarded me as evil, but Catherine and a few others did not.”
“Did you really die at fourteen?” Remy asked, her voice quiet. She almost felt sadness for him, almost could understand why he was so horrible. Almost.
Peter nodded. “My father found out about me,” he said, “and he killed me on earth. But if a fairy were to die on earth, they’re still alive in The Neverland, which is how I’m able to travel through worlds. It’s why I look like this. I cannot grow up.”
“And if you were to die in The Neverland?” Remy asked.
Peter pressed his lips together. He looked as though he did not want to answer the question at all. There was a struggle and for a moment, Remy thought he would refuse. Until: “If I were to die in The Neverland, I would be dead,” he finally said. “For good.”
That was what Remy needed. That piece of information. She tucked it away, making it a point to ensure that her face was passive and did not reveal her true feelings about attaining that piece of information.
“I believe that’s all I need from you,” Remy said, slowly standing up. “Thank you for your time.”
“It’s not like I had a choice,” Peter all but spat. Without another word, he stalked to the door and slammed it shut behind him.
Remy did not mind Peter’s anger. In fact, she barely noticed it. She now had the key to defeat Peter, and hopefully, she would be able to take down The Magistrate as well.
Fifteen
Magdalena did not like being locked into her bedroom. She had a few hours before the Masquerade and knew she should probably start getting ready. However, there was an inner rebellion taking place that wanted absolutely nothing to do with this event. She didn't particularly like dresses and hair styles and makeup - she only had two dresses in her possession during her entire tenure with James - and didn't think there was any reason for her to go through such an effort in order to pretend to be civil with someone no one particularly liked.
"You have to play the game," a voice in her head reminded her. It sounded suspiciously like James's voice, which didn't surprise her in the slightest, considering he was an expert player by now. "There will be people you will be forced to interact with, people you do not particularly like. You must be skilled at handling them and your emotions. Your pride must be cast aside in order to do what's best for the mission."
Magda rolled her eyes. That didn't mean she had to like it.
She walked over to her door and before she could stop herself, pulled out her lock picking kit. She didn't want to stay here, caged like a rare animal at a circus. She wanted to explore. She wanted to get a feel for the layout of the manor and attempt to come up with some sort of contingency plan should things go south and they needed a quick escape. There were many people out and about and there was no doubt she would be seen at some point, which might reflect poorly on James and the crew. She gently gnawed her bottom lip, trying to think of something else for her to do.
Her eyes scanned the room. There was a four-poster bed, a vanity and wardrobe, and a large window that offered a view of the small island. From what Magda could tell, the island was filled with wildflowers. It did not look to be inhabited by any sort of population save for the people who kept the manor running when The Magistrate was not present. Which meant that food, clothing, supplies, and everything else must be imported unless there was a small village located on the other side of the island.
Her eyes narrowed when she saw a door in the wall. From what Magda knew about manors, these doors connected rooms. Many lords, dukes, and royalty had them made so they had quick access to their mistresses’ bedrooms without being seen. She wondered who was on the other side of the door, if it was even worth pursuing.
Before Magda could stop herself, she walked over to the door and pressed her ear against it, trying to hear any movement, any noise that would reveal just who was on the other side of the wall. Nothing.
She took a breath. Maybe she should bide her time and wait. She did not want to wait.
“Just do it, Magda,” she muttered to herself. “They won’t hurt you. You’re under James’s protection.”
That much was true.
She dropped to her knees, and in a manner of moments, picked the lock to the door. When she stood, she kept her tools on her person rather than put them away, and then opened the door, preparing to have to pick another lock. She was correct. She stepped through the threshold and unlocked another door – this one without the assistance of her tools - before pushing through to –
Nick.
This was Nick’s room.
Nick was sleeping on his four-poster bed.
Her first reaction was to throttle him. How could he be so trusting of this new, unfriendly environment to the point where he could simply fall asleep – you are no more vulnerable than when you sleep except, perhaps, when you’re chang
ing your clothes or engaging in love-making – on a whim? It did not make sense to her. She would never be able to do something so… careless.
But, a voice was quick to point out, Nick has been through a lot. His crew is off ferrying souls on his behalf with his ship. He had to join forces with James, a man who he does not respect and vice versa. There was also a battle in the rain, worrying about Remy’s welfare, and other things. Perhaps he could not help but fall asleep.
Well. That would make sense. Perhaps she should refrain from judging him so harshly. Instead, she swallowed and decided to take the time to appreciate him from afar, when he wasn’t looking at her with those beautiful brown eyes.
His tan skin had only gotten darker since he had been out of the sun. His black hair fell into his face messily. His nose – arguably the only imperfection about him – it was rather big and sweeping, but Magda preferred to think of it as an imperfection that proved the rule. Also, regardless of the size, it fit his face beautifully and gave it more character than it otherwise would have had. His lips were softer and more aggressive than they appeared, something she knew from personal experience.
Slowly, she walked to one side of the bed so she could get a better view of him. It was only then that she realized he had thrown off his shirt and, judging by the clothes that littered the floor by her feet, his pants as well. Which meant there was a good chance he was completely naked underneath the sheets.
Magda swallowed but did not back away. How could she, when he was so beautiful? At that moment, his eyes snapped open, almost as though he knew she was watching him, as though he knew she was there. He said nothing, and neither did she. Instead, they simply stared at one another. There was something different about this look, something deeper, more intense.
Magda felt her mouth go dry and she swallowed, hoping to remedy that. Without warning, his hand cupped her cheek and extended his thumb so it could trace her bottom lip. His brown – nearly black – eyes were narrowed to that bottom lip and her breath caught in her throat because she knew he wanted to kiss her and she wanted that very much in return.
“You’re here,” he said, his voice rich with sleep that the word almost came out indiscernible.
“I’m here,” she replied, though, to be honest, she had no idea how she was able to speak at all.
He smiled lightly. “I’m so bloody exhausted,” he said, dropping his hand to his chest. “At least, right now, I can get a moment’s peace.”
“Do you want me to leave?” she whispered. Magda had no idea why she was whispering. It was not as though people could hear through these walls, the wood was thick enough as it was.
“My love,” he said. “That is the last thing I want.” He opened his arms and without hesitation, she crawled into them, curling up against his side. He was still covered with the sheet and she was on top of it, but Magda wrapped her arm around his waist anyway.
He kept his mouth shut, but he began to pull at Magdalena’s shirt. She didn’t mean to, but she tensed. She knew she loved Nick and she knew that love came in many different shades – whether it be verbal, spiritual, emotional, and physical. However, her mind was nowhere near it should be if she were going to indulge in the physical version of love. She wanted the moment to be perfect and she knew it would not be, not if they did it now. Even though they were finally, finally alone.
“Nick, I” –
“Hush now,” he said, meeting her eyes with his. “Trust me.”
Magda swallowed but nodded. She did not like to admit it, but she would do anything he asked. It was dangerous, to be in love. Nick had so much power over her; he could wield it at any point and she would succumb to it regardless of the request.
Nick proceeded to slowly remove all of her clothing until she was completely bare. His eyes did not linger below her face, however. Instead, they were fixed firmly on her face. He curled an errant strand of hair behind her ear before pulling her underneath the sheet and against his solid frame.
“Let’s just sleep now, love,” Nick murmured against her head. His arms were wrapped tightly against her body, and she felt safe and relaxed even though she was stark naked for the first time with the man she loved. “We’ll never get another moment like this soon. Let’s take full advantage of it now.”
She dreamt of Nick. She dreamed of his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his nose buried deep in her shoulder, breathing her in. She dreamt of his sighs, the goosebumps left on her body in his wake. She dreamt of his breathing, how it caused her own breath to vanish and then spasm.
She dreamt of Nick until she could sleep no longer, until a force in her side ripped her from the comfort and security slumber always seemed to bring her.
Until she realized that this, too, was Nick. His arms really were wrapped around her waist, he really was breathing her in. His lips were on her throat, and before she could stop herself, she let out a long moan.
“Darling,” he said in a tight voice, “you can’t be making such noises around me. We are supposed to be getting ready to dine but I will gladly relinquish all forms of sustenance if you give me the opportunity to make you moan like that again and again.”
She gasped, her eyes springing open at the naughty promises the deep dark depths of his irises promised her. Before she could fully respond, he tugged her lips with his teeth and pulled her into a passionate kiss that she could not help but give into. Her wrists locked around his neck and she pulled him even closer to her, more than she already thought was possible.
When oxygen was sparse between them, they were first to break apart. It was nice to see that Nick was just as breathless as Magda was.
“Now, darling,” he said, once he gained control of his breathing. “Like I said, I spend the next three days locked in this room with you and be perfectly content at ignoring the rest of the world, but I’m afraid our presence is needed in the dining hall quite soon. While I think you would be lovely in the attire you’re currently in, it’s required that you adorn something a tad more formal.”
Magda pressed her lips together to keep a smile from slipping onto her face. She still felt sluggish due to the unplanned nap but she knew Nick was right and she would need to leave his bed, his warmth, and start to get ready, especially if she wanted to make it on time for supper tonight.
She stood and stretched, feeling Nick’s eyes rake over her body unabashedly. Nick gave her a satisfied smirk when she looked back at him.
“I’m a lucky man,” he told her, without irony.
“You are,” she agreed. She started to head to the doorway that connected their rooms but stopped. Her arms crossed over her chest and she cocked her head as she regarded Nick with a steady gaze.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. She didn’t want to know the answer but she could not stop herself from asking the question if she tried. And she thought it was telling that she hadn’t even tried to do so. “Seeing Remy again?”
Nick furrowed his brow, seeming genuinely confused. “Of course,” he told her. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilted his head to the side, his dark hair falling in his face.
Magda had to tighten her fingers to keep from pushing them away. Her eyes dropped to her lap; for some reason, she couldn’t look at Nick. There was a squirming feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. A feeling, she found, she did not particularly like.
“You think I still have feelings for her.” He said it like it was a fact, like it was a truth rather than an assumption or even a question. Magda felt her cheeks burn in shame because she could not find it in herself to contradict him. “Why would you think that?” He leaned away from her, a wounded look on his face, making that feeling in Magda’s stomach all the more painful.
“It’s not that,” she began, but Nick shook her head and cut her off.
“No,” he said. “It’s exactly that. You don’t trust my feelings for you.”
“My mother gave me to James when I was young,” Magda said before she could stop herself. The words tumbled
out of her mouth like an avalanche; she did not have it within her to stop them even if she tried. “She traded me to him in exchange for protection, for her and my little sister. You see, it’s common for fairies wings to get plucked from them. It’s random. However, once such a thing occurs, you’re pretty much an outcast. There’s no way to attain your wings again. My wings were plucked, ripped from my flesh.” Her eyes snapped shut at the memory, and the scars on her back tingled on their own. A burning feeling that shot straight to Magda’s soul. “I stayed in the community, but my mother worried. Not only for herself and my sister, but for me as well. She thought James was my best bet at some kind of life. She didn’t tell me. She got me to him under the pretense of picking strawberries in the fields.”
“So that’s why you detest the fruit,” Nick mumbled, more to himself than to her.
Her eyes widened. “How do you know I don’t like strawberries?” she asked.
Nick shook his head. “I notice everything about you, Tink,” he told her. “What kind of man do you take me for?”
“Nick, I” –
“No,” he said. “I’m sorry for what you went through. I understand how difficult it must be to trust others. But if you and I are going to be together, you must trust me. I don’t have any feelings for Remy. When I see her, it will be as though I’m seeing my friend.” He leaned away from her, making it a point to not touch her in any way. The slight distance broke her heart. “You should go and get ready.” Nick would not even look at her. “We have a long night ahead of us.”
Sixteen
Remy finally bathed by herself, not trusting Pam in the slightest in order to assist her with getting ready. She rubbed the ink off her hand and scrubbed the grime off her body. She washed her hair with rose-scented wash and the soap they had was a soft lemon scent. When she was finished, she slid into her corset and slip and then began to dry her hair and style it. She decided an undo with flowers and braids would make her look innocent and angelic, where no one would suspect her of doing anything untoward. Her gown was a soft pink color with white lace. It wasn't terribly low cut but it did reveal her narrow waist and her bountiful chest. Perhaps this way, any guards who might attempt to stop her would be distracted by her assets rather than what she would do. On her feet were matching slippers, encasing her feet comfortably so she wouldn't have to worry about tripping or twisting her ankles.
Life in Neverland: Book 3 of The Neverland Trilogy Page 11
