His face contorted as he tilted his head, gawking at me like I was so hideous that he couldn’t look away. But, that was just it, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“Bound and injured and gravely outnumbered, I still managed to string up your men into trees,” I replied and coughed. My throat felt like I’d drank fire but I pretended I was fine. Oh, I loved a game of make-believe. “Only four little trinkets left to dispose of until I win this game.”
“You think this is a game?” Mullins snapped. “Those were good men you hanged!”
What I thought was they would regret having taken me from my captain. But rather than get into all those details, of which brought tears to my eyes, I focused on what I could do. And I could torment him until he slipped up and I found a vine to dangle him by.
“Do you still think I am beautiful?” I asked.
“You are unbelievable!” He threw his end of the staff down. I went down head first, but the end of the staff kept me from bouncing off the ground.
“We should have killed you when we first got the chance instead of bringing you to the monarch,” Mullins said, then spit at me.
I chuckled, enjoying his realization that I was far more dangerous than he first thought. I wasn’t just a delicate lady who got caught up with the bad boys. There was a reason I found myself in delicate situations most women did not.
“How does it feel to know that you fought on my behalf?”
“I didn’t fight for you, fairy!” Mullins shook his fist in my face.
“Ta gueule, fairy,” Deval warned me to shut up and then turned to Mullins. “She is baiting you, Mullins. Pick up your end and let’s finish the job so we can finally be rid of her.”
“You act like it was my idea to go to the Crown Estate.” I carried on, ignoring the scratch in my throat and the way my body ached. “You insisted on bringing me. I didn’t want to leave the garden. Deval can contest that he regretfully brought me here. And what of your comrades? I’m sure they would rather have walked away than been hanged. It was you who wanted me here. Their deaths are on your hands.”
“I’d be in my right mind to kill you now and tell the monarch you died in transport,” Mullins snapped, coming toward me.
Deval dropped his end of the staff. The fall knocked the wind out of me. It took me a moment to recover, but while I struggled to take a breath, I watched Deval step between me and Mullins. He pressed his hands up against Mullins’ chest, pushing him away from me.
As they turned against each other, a wave of relaxation washed over me. I knew I couldn’t fight them hand-to-hand, but that wasn’t how I thrived in battle. Words were more powerful than any blade.
“She’s enjoying this!” Mullins shouted, pushing Deval off him.
Deval glanced over his shoulder. His eye flinched as his gaze met mine. He understood what was happening. He understood that even though I was physically defenseless, I was a force to be reckoned with.
“She murdered almost all our men and barely raised a finger!” Mullins said. “We should kill her now and be done with it.”
“Premier, did you honestly think capturing a fairy would be easy?” Deval boomed. “Seconde, we didn’t lose a dozen men just to kill her now. And even though George can’t talk, he can still communicate. Besides, Kensington most likely had been watching the last moments of their lives. Certainly, he’s been tracking our progress and knows we’re only a few hours away!”
“If he knows we are close, why hasn’t he sent more men?” Mullins shouted.
“Would you?” I asked and giggled as revulsion surfaced in their gaze.
Deep down I knew I would probably die, but I would take as many of these men down with me as possible. If my captain still carried a heartbeat, he would stop at nothing to avenge me. And in the darkest parts of my soul, I knew that if he failed, there was always Peter… The delusional psychopath would avenge me simply because he thought I still cared for him. That and he brought destruction wherever he went. He didn’t need an excuse, like my death, to wreak havoc on this island. While I hated that a part of me was delighted he would retaliate against those who hurt me, at least there was a silver lining to my misery.
“Regardless of whatever happens to me, I assure you that you’ll wish you were dead long before my body rots,” I said.
Deval withdrew his machete. “Your body will not rot, fairy. You will return to dust.”
I refused to show my fear. “We’re all dust in the end,” I said, quoting the inscription on the pocket watch I’ve carried for years.
“Not on Neverland,” Deval said. “We’re ageless here.”
“You are merely old men wearing younger men’s faces,” I said. “You all will die. Eventually.”
“Is that a threat?” Deval said, approaching me with the blade ready in his hand.
“Not a threat, but rather a promise,” I said.
“I will watch you die one day, fairy. That is a promettre,” Deval said and stormed ahead of Mullins.
George walked up behind Deval and grunted. The lieutenant turned around. Though he didn’t speak, it was obvious what George was trying to say when he nodded down the path. He had grown weary of being in the forest with me as a captive.
“You think we’re wasting time?” Deval asked.
George cocked his head to the side and raised a brow. With that, he moved past me, careful to keep an arm’s length away even though I was bound.
Striding past all his comrades, Deval took out his aggression on the forest, hacking away every single vine in our path. The glowing orbs spilled out, drenching the ground. Mullins picked up the wooden staff at my feet and sent the blood rushing to my head. As Deval cleared the path, Mullins dragged me along.
“I have never seen a forest weep before,” I said, watching the glowing orbs spread out on the dirt floor. “Mother will be furious.”
“Do not lecture us about nature,” Mullins snapped.
Fine. Piss her off. What did I care? It wasn’t like she was vengeful or anything.
It took several hours but we finally arrived at Kensington’s Crown Estate. Residing in a mountainous valley, the estate was as protected as possible from three sides. Huge, silvery mountains shot up into the air. Their tops were hidden just below the clouds.
At the bottom of the valley, homes were built from the forest wood. Higher up, homes were carved right out of the silver mountains. It looked like any island metropolis except there were no women. No small children. Men dominated. Yet, they all bore ink on their forearm—the monarch’s crest.
Once Mullins reached the brick roads, Deval sheathed his machete and picked up the other end of the wooden staff I was still tied to.
“Is that a fairy? I haven’t seen one in years,” a native called out, running up to us like I was some exotic animal brought to the New World in a cargo crate. His body was pierced in every possible place.
“That is the spawn of Satan herself,” answered another native, approaching us.
He bore a thick scar across his face which had been made with a dull dagger. It sliced over his eye and down his cheek. Though it was sharpened tenfold after Peter welded it. With each drop of blood it spilled, the sharpness improved. A lovely curse I had long forgotten about until seeing Whibbles’ mangled face. He’d grown out his brown hair to hide the scar, but it was pointless. The scar was too long.
“They make eye patches to hide the ugly, Whibbles,” I quipped.
“And here I thought you were dead. No one has seen you in years,” Whibbles noted. “What have you been up to?”
Time shifted in unpredictable ways after I worked the last spell. Reality seemed less structured. I didn’t know if that was because I was now on the island or if it had always been like that. Regardless, years had passed by while I took one slow blink after burning Davy Jones’ boat. I didn’t know what had happened while I was out, but I was not going to reveal that information.
“I’ve been a bit of a drifter,” I replied honestly. “You ha
ven’t aged a bit. Neverland has been good to you.”
“Neverland is good to no one,” he replied. Whibbles’ eye flinched, a nervous tick I’d picked up on long ago. He kept his distance, but his curiosity kept him close. “Is that sand between your toes?”
That stung. There was no way I could pretend I wasn’t bound to the island after stepping foot on it. I was no better off than them. However, they didn’t know my wings had been scraped off yet. Though I didn’t suspect Deval or Mullins to keep that a secret for long.
“Still bending a knee to pretty boy Kensington?” I asked Whibbles, noting the tattoo on his forearm. “I thought you and Chaz would have joined Peter when he escaped this island.”
Whibbles’ eye twitched. Interesting. There was more to the story than I first assumed.
I pressed. “Why didn’t you leave with Peter?”
“Yes, why didn’t you leave with Peter?” a coy voice stated from the crowd.
Deval and Mullins abruptly stopped. Whibbles bowed his head, hiding behind his long hair. Everyone else in the crowd seemed to find something else to concern themselves with. They scattered.
“Serving you has been my life’s purpose,” Whibbles said. “Peter was a distraction, Kensington.”
“A distraction who happened to steal from me,” Kensington replied. His voice was steady but the undertones revealed his anger.
The soft tapping of a cane hitting the stone road got louder. Click. Click. Click. The sounds were an echo from the past. I couldn’t count the number of times it had been the resonating sound of my headaches. A pointless dribble of a noise as there was no use for the cane. Kensington could walk just fine on his own—though he’d allow everyone to think otherwise. Even so, he didn’t bother hiding the diamond tip that was the end of the cane. It cast sundogs on the ground. Sometimes the deadliest things were the most attractive.
And Kensington was a beautiful man. Silver strands lingered throughout his gray beard. His dark, curly mane would have spilled onto his shoulders if it were not tied back. His strong Greek lineage was apparent on his nose and chin.
“You are fortunate I spared both your lives when he left.” Kensington glanced at Chaz’s barely breathing body. “Though perhaps that was all for none. Take Chaz to the informatory.”
George grunted and strode by, carrying Peter’s best friend with him. Oh, how I wished James had been successful in killing that bastard.
“Hello, Tinker Bell,” Kensington mused. His voice was thick with pleasure, drowning out all other sounds from the estate.
The sound of my past—my name—haunted me. I wished that everyone on Neverland had forgotten that name, that person I used to be. The person who had no remorse or mercy.
When he uttered the name again, I spit in his face. He barely reacted as it sprayed on him. He simply withdrew a pocket square and dabbed it off.
“I see that you haven’t lost your fire,” Kensington noted. A sole dimple stood out when Kensington grinned. “You will need to hold on to that when I deliver you to the practitioner. He will be delighted to know you have arrived.”
I forced myself to breathe evenly. “You would see me ground to dust so quickly? Surely I am worth more to you alive than dead.”
I didn’t add that I was the only one who could undo the curse which stole the legs from the mermaids. Nor did I add that most didn’t care to have them back. Regardless, if he and Kaleo ever wanted to be together again, he needed me alive.
“Not anymore,” he replied. “Not for quite some time.”
“What changed?” I asked. I wanted so badly to ask about Kaleo, but that would get me nowhere fast. I couldn’t call him out in front of everyone and expect great results or truthful answers.
“Everything changed the moment you fled Neverland and left that lunatic behind,” Kensington answered, scanning the remaining people in the crowd. “Whibbles, escort Deval and Mullins. Take the fairy to the practitioner. He is expecting her as payment.”
“Payment for what?” I implored.
“For what Peter took from him,” Kensington replied coyly. “The rest of his fairy dust—enough to get off the island.”
Chapter 11
Miss Bell
Hiding in the Crown Estate was next to impossible. Even if I wasn’t strapped to a wooden staff, I wouldn’t have gotten very far. I wasn’t well and there were too many natives standing between freedom and me.
Kensington instructed Deval and Mullins to set me down when we got to a rocky platform halfway up the mountain. The platform overlooked the angry ocean. Huge silver rocks jutted out from the ocean—the fallen mountains of Neverland. Only one fallen mountain was claimed as a home. Skull Rock.
I didn’t see the practitioner or anyone else on that piece of rock for that matter. I think that made it worse. I didn’t know where he was at or when he would get here. Though, I suppose it didn’t matter. There were many natives eager to see me dead. Whibbles flanked the other side of his monarch.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance, Mullins,” I said. “Bringing me here was a mistake.”
“You are une erreur, a mistake,” Deval interjected. “Nature messed up with the creation of creatures like you.”
“And you angered her with your blade,” I said, nodding to the machete. I addressed Kensington, “Be wary of the forest, Mother is vengeful.”
“Nature doesn’t feel anything!” Mullins fumed.
“Then why is she described as the life force?” I pressed.
Mullins pulled back his arm, but it was Deval who stopped him. With a simple shake of his head, Deval convinced Mullins to stand down. Kensington watched the exchange with great interest. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was certain as soon as he started to pace he was displeased.
“Are the restraints necessary?” Kensington asked, walking back and forth leisurely. “Untie her, Mullins.”
“Every restraint is necessary when it comes to that bitch. She took out all our men in the forest,” Mullins fumed, glaring at me like it was my fault his commander was questioning him. He stepped in front of Deval when he moved for my wrists.
“It seems to me that if you would have merely left her unconscious, I would still have most of my men and it wouldn’t have taken you days to get here.” Kensington’s voice was thick like honey, but he could not hide his anger from me. I’ve known him too long. “And then you bind her with the very vines she used to hang my men in the forest.”
“What else were we to use?” Mullins demanded. “What did you expect?”
Deval was stepping back, giving Kensington a wide berth. His facial expression was stone cold. Why was he allowing his comrade to speak to the monarch without respect? I wouldn’t have tolerated it. And from the tapping of Kensington’s cane, I could tell his anger was brewing.
“She is nearly dead, as it is now, and even if she wasn’t, she’s just a little thing. You all physically outmatch her,” Kensington answered calmly. “And what I expected was for you all to return days ago.”
“We could have used reinforcements.” Mullins carried on, throwing his hands in the air, frustrated.
Approaching him like one would with prey, Kensington crossed the platform. The click, click, click of his cane tapped on the stone. It pierced my ears. Once he stood face-to-face with Mullins, he inclined his head.
“Reinforcements were sent,” Kensington replied shortly, not able to keep his anger fully in check. “I sent them to collect the captain, not the half-dead fairy.”
“Why?” Deval asked at the same time I demanded, “Where is my captain?”
My heart hammered. I was dying to know where they had put James. Was he okay? Had they hurt him? Were they torturing him? If the monarch refused to allow any women on this island out of bitterness, I didn’t know what he’d do to the love of my life.
Without answering me, without facing me, without acknowledging that I’d demanded a question, he kept his focus on Mullins. He circled around him, sizing
him up. “She loves him. She would have done anything if you threatened his life instead of hers.” His voice echoed throughout the mountains as he added, “And I wouldn’t have lost eleven men!”
“Ten,” Mullins corrected.
Kensington struck so quickly I barely followed his movements. Swiftly, he stabbed the end of his cane directly into Mullins’ chest. The diamond tip easily punctured through. A cry of surprise fled my lips. The native dropped to the ground, clutching his chest.
“Not ten,” Kensington quipped, withdrawing his cane. “Eleven.”
No one spoke as Mullins bled out on the ground. Watching the life slip from his eyes, I tugged at my restraints, unable to turn in them. I might have been a wicked creature, but I didn’t enjoy the sight of cold dead eyes staring at me.
Kensington knelt beside Mullins and pushed his sleeve back, gazing at the tattooed crest on the dying man’s forearm. Bits of dust floated in the air as Mullins’ body became still.
As I witnessed the murder, I wondered if anyone else had come to the same conclusion as me—that Mullins was killed because he clearly answered to Deval rather than to Kensington.
I turned my head, wishing I could wipe that sight from my memory when Kensington walked over to me and knelt beside me. I could feel his gaze crawl over me as he inspected the length of my body.
“Where is Captain James?” I demanded.
Kensington’s gaze slipped back to Mullins like he expected answers from the dead man. Suddenly, I understood what had happened.
“You don’t know where he is,” I guessed. “You were trying to see that far back into Mullins’ life when he was with the captain, weren’t you?”
“Just because I don’t know his location does not mean he is alive,” Kensington stated in a political fashion.
Kensington stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in his jacket. Satisfied with his appearance, he withdrew his pocket square and lifted his cane. He wiped the blood off the diamond tip as nonchalantly as he had wiped the spit off his face.
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