“What do you see?” she asked, closing her eyes and leaning against his touch.
“I can see how lucky any man would be to stand in your light. See how deserving you are of love.”
Emma’s eyes opened and her lips parted, but no words came out as her heart fluttered madly in her chest. James was so close to her, so close she could see the dark blue flecks in his hazel eyes. Her first instinct was to run, but something deeper—fiercer, even—kept her still.
“Have you ever been kissed by a character from a book? Other than Hook?”
“No,” she said as he moved closer. “But I’ve daydreamed about it lots of times.”
James grinned. “I bet you have.” He leaned down to kiss her.
Then someone screamed.
10
James pulled away from Emma, and she turned her face in the direction of the screaming. The shouts peppered the air, sounding like kids on a rollercoaster ride. The shouts didn’t sound terrified exactly, but Emma wasn’t sure they were screams of excitement either. Words whizzed through the air, blowing the grease-stained paper towels off the table. Escape. Rum. Surprise. Thunder rumbled outside the library, and a bolt of lightning illuminated the nearest window, shooting bright light inside the building and flashing off the polished bookshelves.
James’ words cast a warm haze over Emma’s thoughts, and it took her a few seconds to process what might be happening. “The book club,” Emma finally blurted, feeling her stomach squeeze.
“Come on,” James said, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the library.
They ran to the quiet spot where she’d left the book club attendees. Chaos had overtaken the space. Overturned chairs disrupted the neat horseshoe arrangement. A few books looked tossed around, some lying face up and staring at the scene, while others were face down with crumpled, distressed pages. An uncapped, blue ink pen rolled across the center of the area as though trying to escape.
One woman ran past Emma and James with her purse clutched to her chest like a precious child. Four women were huddled together near a bookshelf, holding onto one another’s arms like a broken game of Red Rover. Another woman sat in one of the chairs, with her feet propped on another. She watched the scene unfold while eating a cookie. She shrugged her shoulders and looked at Emma and James as they ran into the section.
Vicki rushed toward Emma and clutched onto Emma’s arm. “Emma, I am so sorry. I forgot I needed a book from the archives. When I went down there tonight, that man was still tied up. You said someone was going to come and pick him up, so why was he still down there? He begged me to help him, and he was so pitiful. I couldn’t just leave him there. It’s wrong, Emma. But once I untied him, he knocked me out of the way and ran off. I tried to follow him, and then I heard a lot of commotion coming from up here. I think he’s still intoxicated. Should I call the police?”
Emma’s eyes were wide as she turned to look at James. Chills zinged up her spine. “Hook,” she whispered. She pried Vicki’s fingers from her arm. “Give me a second, okay?”
The only man in the book club stared down an aisle with his closed umbrella in his hand, pointing it at someone just out of Emma’s sight. Thunder rolled again.
“Let her go,” the man demanded.
“I don’t think so, mate,” Hook said. “I’m not holding her against her will. It’s obvious she needs a bit of fun.”
“She’s my wife,” the man argued. “Marsha, get back here.”
“Tim,” Marsha answered, “you see the hook, right?”
Tim’s hand squeezed on the umbrella handle, and he lifted it higher. “Don’t make me use this.”
“Planning to teach me a lesson with that umbrella, are you?” Hook laughed.
Emma and James hurried over to the end of the aisle to stand beside Tim. Hook stood with one arm looped around Marsha, who looked somehow less frightened than she should have been. The way she gazed up at Hook made Emma worry that Marsha wasn’t interested in fighting her way out of the pirate’s embrace. Hook tilted back a plastic water bottle and gulped down the contents. He grimaced and dropped the empty bottle on the floor.
“Couldn’t afford the good stuff, mate?” Hook asked. He squeezed Marsha closer to him and buried his face in her teased, over-sprayed hair. “No wonder you’re not interested in that man. I only have the best on my ship.”
“Is there really good stuff when it comes to bottled water?” Emma asked.
“That’s not water,” Tim said. “It’s rum. Or it was. And it’s not cheap.”
Emma gaped at Tim. “You brought alcohol into the library? That’s against the rules.”
“Are you seriously reprimanding me about library rules when there is a psychopath who has kidnapped my wife?” Tim asked.
“She doesn’t exactly look like a damsel in distress,” Emma said. “Looks pretty cozy with the rogue, if you ask me.”
“Love,” Hook called, turning his dark-eyed gaze on Emma, “there’s no reason to fight over me. There’s room enough for both of you.” Using his hook, he motioned Emma toward him. A cannon blast of thunder sounded, rattling books on the shelves, followed by a streak of lightning that illuminated Hook from behind.
“What should we—” Emma started to ask James, but when she turned to look at him, he wasn’t beside her. “James?” she asked, turning in a full circle.
The woman sitting in the chair pointed down the next aisle, and Emma’s eyes widened. Thunder boomed again, and Emma turned back toward Hook. She watched a shadow stretch behind Hook, and soon James appeared from behind the bookshelf.
“Let her go, Hook,” James said.
Hook’s back stiffened, but he recovered quickly. He spun around with Marsha still pressed against his side. Recognition passed over Hook’s face, and he shoved Marsha away from him. She gasped and stumbled toward the bookshelf and then to her knees.
“Remember me?” James asked. “I would have thought last time was enough to make you want to stay tied up. For your own safety, of course.” A blade glinted in James’ right hand.
Words squeezed out from between books on the shelves before dropping to the floor and circling Hook’s boots. Sneak. Ashes. Swept away.
Hook’s eyes narrowed, and he moved his hand to where his sword should have been sheathed, but it had been taken. “I have fitting plans for you, but not tonight.”
Before Emma could inhale another breath, Hook disappeared. Marsha pushed herself up off the floor and gawked at the empty space with wide eyes. James met Emma’s gaze, and then he ran off, shouting at Hook, who Emma knew had most definitely not gone running in any direction.
“Wh—where did he go?” Marsha stuttered.
Emma hurried down the aisle and helped Marsha to her feet. Marsha wobbled on her heeled sandals, and Emma kept a firm grip on her arm.
“Where did that man go?” Marsha asked again. “He…disappeared.”
Emma forced a laugh. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He ran away. He’s scared of James because that man is…well, he’s…he was here earlier as an impersonator, but,” she leaned closer to Marsha and whispered, “he has a bit of a drinking problem, so we asked him to leave. I guess he felt angry. I’m so sorry that he manhandled you. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Marsha shook her head. “Drinking problem. I understand that.” Her gaze traveled to her husband, who walked toward them with a scowl. “He’s awful good looking, though. Such a waste of a good face. You think he could work through his issues? Maybe with some counseling?”
Emma’s brow wrinkled. “I suppose.” Does she sound hopeful, like there could be future potential with Hook?
“Marsha,” Tim said as he reached for his wife. “Are you okay?” He pulled her into his arms and crushed her against his chest. “Where did that man go? We need to call the police. He could have hurt someone.”
Emma jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “My friend went to catch him. I was telling your wife that he’s a disgruntled impersonator we hired earli
er to entertain the children, but it didn’t work out. I’m sorry for all of the trouble. I hope this won’t tarnish your devotion to book club.”
Tim released his grip on Marsha so he could look at her face. “You sure you’re okay? Why don’t I get you home?” He smoothed his hands down her stiff hair, which sounded like he was petting prickly grass. Then he slipped his arm around Marsha’s shoulders. “You can’t control everyone,” he said to Emma. “It’s not your fault, but I hope you’ll follow the proper procedures and let the police know about this. He’s not the kind of man who should be wandering around town.”
Emma puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. “Definitely not. And maybe next time you come to the library, you could leave the booze at home.”
Tim’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead, and Marsha snorted into his shoulder.
“That’s an idea,” he said as he turned to his wife, and they walked away.
Emma spent the next twenty minutes calming the remaining book club attendees and apologizing repeatedly. She sent Vicki home with the promise that she would call the police and have the pirate apprehended. The rainstorm continued to batter the sides of the library, and the thunder and lightning became stationary over Mystic Water. Wild winds whipped around the edges of the building, and the trees around the library bent and groaned.
Emma walked all the book club members to the front door, and they darted to their cars with no chance of staying dry. Then she returned to the meeting area to straighten the mess left behind by Hook’s impromptu visit. She looked over her shoulder every few seconds, expecting Hook to return, but nothing else moved inside the library. She wondered about James and about where he’d gone.
Just as she put away the last chair, James found her. She slid the chair beneath the table and looked up at him.
“No sign of Hook anywhere,” James said. “Crusoe said that one second Hook was in the chair, and the next second, he was gone. But Crusoe admitted that he took a nap. Vicki must have freed Hook during that time.”
Emma squeezed her fingers around the back of the chair. “This is bad. Morty is going to lose it when he finds out what I’ve done. This is a small town. You think they won’t talk about this? They certainly will. Then word will get back to Morty lickety-split, and he’ll think I’ve become incompetent. Letting drunkards into the library. Then I’ll have to explain to him that the drunkard wasn’t actually a drunkard but Captain Hook, whom I let out of a book because I’m an idiot.”
James walked over and touched her arm. “Hey, breathe for a minute, will ya? We’re going to figure this out.”
“Will we?” Emma asked. “Because I don’t see how. A supervillain is loose in the library and he’s invisible. This sounds pretty awful.”
James grinned for a second. “I don’t think he’s quite the supervillain. Now if you’d let out Voldemort, maybe. Hook’s a rogue pirate, but he’s mostly interested in women and rum. It’s unlikely he’s going to actually hurt anyone unless he’s provoked or greatly irritated.”
Emma sighed. “Speaking of provoked, it sounded as though you’ve met before—you and Captain Hook. It looked like he recognized you.”
“Morty let him out once before,” James said as he counted on his fingers. “Five years ago, I think. He thought a pirate from a children’s story might be interesting and fairly harmless. But Hook is not how Morty imagined him. He’s how Barrie imagined him, I suppose, or he’s something else altogether. I’m not sure how we’re altered when we leave our lives and come here.”
Emma walked toward the circulation desk, and James followed. “What happened between you two? He seemed a bit vengeful. If you hadn’t taken his sword, I think he would have wanted to fight with you.”
James didn’t respond right away, and when Emma looked over at him, his gaze stretched for miles, far past the walls of the library. She wondered what images were replaying in his mind, and she stopped walking. The windows illuminated before going dark again. Words skated across the tiles. Ending. Gasp. Wail. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“What happened?” she asked again.
James glanced at her and then down at his hands. “He’d been moderately tame for the first week, but then he lost his patience with this place. This annoying kid kept pestering his younger sister, and Hook appeared and decided to shut the kid up by choking the life out of him. Morty yelled for me, so I snuck up behind Hook. I meant to coerce him to let the kid go by flashing my knife, but Hook lunged toward me, and it stabbed him in the gut. It killed him. Or sent him back early. He’s obviously not dead.”
“Whoa,” Emma said. “You can do that? How does that work? You can die in this world?”
James exhaled. “It’s not like dying exactly. I don’t even know if it hurts, but Hook made a big show of ‘dying’ before he disappeared. Actually he turned to ashes, and Morty swept him into a dustpan, and we dumped him outside. We had to convince the kid it was all part of an elaborate magic show. I doubt he ever annoyed his sister again. Afterward, Morty thanked me, but we never talked about it again.”
Emma rubbed her fists against her eyes. She couldn’t process the idea that the characters brought out of the books could die or turn to ashes if they were killed in the real world. Was that why Morty always kept them safely stowed in the library? There were lots of reasons for not allowing the characters to run amok around town, but one good reason could have been to keep them from turning to ashes in front of townsfolk. She could imagine the trouble if one of the characters jaywalked across Main Street in the path of a moving car.
She lowered her hands. “And he’s the character I choose to bring back. I am an idiot. I’m sorry, James. For all of this. I’ve created a mess. I don’t even know where to start the cleanup. Should we keep looking for Hook?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost nine o’clock and time to lock up the library for the night. “I can close up, and then we can make a final sweep. But even if we find him, I don’t know what we can do since he can disappear on us.”
Rain slashed against the window, and Emma turned her head to watch the raging storm outside.
“Hook likes to brood. That much I know about him,” James said. “He’s likely plotting his revenge in a corner somewhere, but he’ll also be looking for his sword, which he won’t find. Crusoe buried it. Literally. There’s a back corner in the archives where the stones are missing, and Crusoe hid it a few feet beneath the dirt. It wouldn’t hurt to look around for Hook, though, but you won’t like my suggestion for how to get rid of him if we find him.”
Emma pressed her teeth against her bottom lip. “You don’t mean turn him to ashes, do you? Because I’m sure I won’t be able to stab him. I’d more likely stab myself in the process.”
“Leave the stabbing to me,” he said. “The other option would be to buy a case of rum, and let him drink himself into a stupor.”
Emma groaned. “Great. Our two options are murder or breaking not only the library rules but also the law by having a case of rum in a public building that is open to children. I’m not interested in jail time.”
James smiled and rubbed his hands up her arms. His hazel eyes watched her. “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
Together. The word wrapped around her heart like a hug and held her. Her breath stilled, and a flicker of hope appeared inside her. She wanted to tamp it down—hope was dangerous—but looking up at James with him smiling down at her, she didn’t want to close off or push him away. She wanted to pretend that for a few minutes she was together with a handsome man who made her almost believe everything would work out.
Emma locked up the library, and with the help of Crusoe and Darcy, Emma and James spent the next forty-five minutes scouring every corner and opening every door. Hook was a no-show, and he didn’t even respond to threats, name calling, or insults of any kind. At nearly ten p.m. Emma dropped down into the chair behind the circulation desk.
“I think we should call it a night,” Emma said. “
At this point, I’m so exhausted that I don’t care where he is or if he shows up as soon as I leave.”
The thunder and lightning had dissipated, but the rain continued to fall in dark, fast-moving sheets of water. James looked toward the windows and shook his head.
“I can ask Crusoe to keep an eye out for him, but I bet Hook will sulk a while longer. Why don’t you stay at Morty’s tonight? He wouldn’t care, and you wouldn’t have to drive home in this weather. After a few hours of rain, the roads will have become slick.”
Emma wanted to argue, but James had a point. The day had been so long and so full that it felt as though a week’s worth of time had been folded into one day, leaving her feeling weary and emotionally drained. If she could run across the grass and go to bed without having to drive through the rainstorm, why would she not stay at Morty’s?
“That’s a great idea,” she said, reaching for her purse. She stood and looked at James.
While sorting through the chaos of the book club and then searching for Hook, Emma had momentarily forgotten what she and James had been doing just before the screaming interrupted them. Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced away from him. Regret tried to worm its way into her mind. What was she doing kissing someone? She knew where that road would lead: Brokenheartsville.
“Do you mind asking Crusoe to be on the lookout?” she asked.
“Give me a few minutes. Don’t go until I get back, okay?”
Emma nodded and leaned against the counter while she waited. In an unexpected moment of foolishness, she gave herself permission to close her eyes and imagine the feel of James’ mouth against hers. She reached her fingertips up and touched her lips. Her eyes snapped open when she heard James’ footsteps.
The Legend of James Grey Page 11
