“I am more powerful than you,” the practitioner growled.
“Betray my command and you will have my entire population raging down on you and that tiny pebble of a home,” Kensington seethed.
Regretfully the beast let go of me. I ungracefully slumped to the ground, James kept his eyes on me the entire time. His jaw tightened. His finger flinched but he relaxed his hand, keeping the blade tight against Deval’s chest.
“Deval for Miss Bell,” Kensington offered. “And we are square.”
James’ gaze did not waver as he sized up the monarch. His jaw flexed and relaxed. “No.”
“No?” Kensington repeated.
“No,” James smirked. “When I was following you, I saw you take a tear from Deval, a tear that doesn’t belong to you. I want it back.”
“In exchange for what?”
“My alliance,” James replied.
Kensington sized up James. The sly smile congealed, then melted into arrogance. “How long have you been watching us?”
“I’ve been watching your men get strung up in Hangman’s Forest for days now, just biding my time,” James replied. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite some time.”
“And why is that?”
“Have you heard of a boy named Peter?”
“The creature Tinker Bell created in her own shadow? Yes, I am vaguely aware of him,” Kensington said, his eye twitching.
“Then you are aware of his unnatural obsession with Miss Bell,” James carried on.
Kensington groaned at Deval, who was still lying on his back with the tip of James’ sword to his chest. “I’m aware of his unnatural obsession with everything he cannot have. His knack for turning allies against each other is quite annoying.”
“Why do you not kill the bastard?” James angled his head toward Deval, picking up that the man was not as loyal as he had seemed.
“Hope is a vindictive bitch at times, is she not?” I piped up.
“Because I am a merciful leader… And Deval is one of my best men,” Kensington stated, rubbing his chin as he looked at James with newfound interest. “And he has the loyalty of many of my men. Killing him would certainly raise a coup. He is worth more to me alive than dead. Unless you killed him. So, if you must, do it quickly and parade him around a bit so all my subjects can see it was you who slain him and not a vengeful ruler.”
“I simply needed off this island, Kensington,” Deval uttered. “He promised me a way off.”
“And yet he left you anyway,” Kensington sneered and then clicked his cane on the ground again. “Why do I need your alliance?”
“Peter will come for Miss Bell,” James said.
Kensington waved me off like I was nothing but cannon fodder. That irked me.
“And he blames the mermaids for my survival,” James said. “He plans a fishing expedition. And I’m certain that if he should hear about how you harmed or are planning to harm Miss Bell, he and his crew will come down on you with vengeance.”
“I do not fear him or his crew,” Kensington stated.
“You do not fear a damned crew of Lost Souls?”
Click. Click. Click. Kensington drew in a wary breath and expelled it slowly, his facial expression hardening with it.
“Rumor has it that you still care for the mermaid queen, the doyenne,” James said, coyly.
“There is little truth to rumors,” Kensington quipped.
“But there is truth,” James pressed. “And people say she holds you in poor regard. She’d gladly drown you and your men without a passing thought for she loves the sea—not you, a man of proper status.”
Kensington raised his chest high. “What are you saying? Speak clearly.”
“Trade Deval for Miss Bell. A tear for my alliance and I’ll convince the mermaids not to tear you and your men when Peter finally arrives.”
“How do you know they will not simply add you to their sick collection in their locker?” Kensington asked. True curiosity was exemplified with the raise of his eyebrow.
“That’s my problem, not yours,” James retorted.
Kensington tilted his head to the side, considering the offer. “You have a deal.”
As soon as the agreement was struck, James strode over to me. His body flexed tight from fighting which made mine shake. The confident poise never left his shoulders, but as he neared, taking in my sight, apprehension filled his eyes. His jaw set. His gaze crawled up my legs, spending a great deal of time on my stomach before venturing up my chest. He stopped dead in his tracks when he took in the purple splotches around my throat.
He wielded his sword, pointing it at Deval, who had scrambled to his feet. “Lay another finger on her, and I will remove them one by one. Are we clear?”
Deval gripped his machete. His gaze dropped to my captain’s hook and then back at him. “I make no promesses.”
“Your fairy’s life for my lieutenant’s,” Kensington declared. “If you kill him, I can make no promises that she will survive.”
“So, I’ll need insurance that she is not to be harmed,” James said, mumbling to himself as he sheathed his sword.
James crept along the side of the platform, minding the boiling wake until he got closer. His focus left me only for a moment as he eyed down the other men. Then, in one swift movement, he lifted his shirt up over his head.
My throat closed, unable to breathe. Dark black and blue bruises swelled around him. Gashes lined his stomach. Dirt and grime clung to his skin, beading off in sweat marks.
“I assure you I’m fine,” James said, kneeling in front of me.
He helped me into his shirt, carefully slipping the fabric over me. The hem went down to my knees. He cupped my cheek. There were hundreds of unspoken words begging to be said, but neither he nor I uttered a word. He just smoothed his thumb over my trembling bottom lip.
“And what about me?” The practitioner tensed. “You gave me the fairy as compensation for what was stolen from me.”
“Compensation?” James repeated, standing and facing the beast of a man. “You want fucking compensation after nearly beating her to death?”
His body was suddenly taut, ready for a fight again. The lines of his back bulged, forming a V at his waist. The power building within him…the sight stole my ability to breathe.
“What I seek is her bones,” the practitioner seethed, edging closer, not backing down. The two would tear each other apart if they must. “Did you want me to keep her alive as long as I could upon collecting them?”
“Captain James,” I said, trying to stand up.
He glanced over his shoulder at me and as soon as he saw me struggling to stand, he moved to help me. I can’t say I carried much weight on my own. However, if I could stop him from taking on another fight, I would in a heartbeat.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “I know a way to gather your fairy dust after it’s been tattooed on.”
“Miss Bell, no!” James urged.
The practitioner leaned forward “How?”
Twisted in his embrace, I met James’ gaze. “Help me. Please.”
His jaw was set but he nodded. Carefully, he pulled back his shirt and then my undergarment. He exposed the scars on my back that Peter had left from scraping off my wings. I could feel their eyes crawling over me, examining me. The heat of the practitioner’s body hit mine as he stepped closer. His finger dragged across my skin as he inspected me.
“That’s enough,” James said, covering me with the shirt and shielding me with his body.
“Your wings were made of tattoo ink,” the practitioner said, staring at the top of the wing that still decorated up the backside of my neck.
“No, they weren’t. They were much more permanent,” I replied.
With James standing in front of me, I addressed the practitioner. “Give us your alliance, and I’ll tell you how you may reuse fairy dust, even after it’s been tattooed onto another’s skin.”
After they agreed, I told them a shorte
ned version of what had happened the night I lost my wings…and James lost his hand. James’ face was unreadable as I relayed our story.
“So, he used a knife to strip you of your wings?” I could see the wheels spinning in the practitioner’s eyes.
“A cursed blade,” I said and tried not to look at the one I’d just made for James.
“His will take time to sharpen,” Deval stated.
“Not as long as you’d think.” James’ hollowed statement left so much unsaid, but one did not need words to elaborate the way James felt about Deval.
“Perhaps another time we can discuss the details of how to destroy the impossible,” the practitioner said, gazing at me like I was something new and shiny to play with. “When you have recovered more fully, of course. Fairies are quite delicate, even though they’d prefer everyone to believe they are thick-skinned.”
“Everyone’s bones can be ground to dust, Jukes…even yours,” James jeered. “Do not cross me. You will not enjoy the outcome.”
The practitioner held himself up, spreading his shoulders wide as if he wanted to illustrate just how oversized he was. “We are not men who are double-crossed often.”
“No, we are not,” James said and then picked me up like I weighed nothing. He carried me away from that monster who would rather enjoy wearing me as an inky suit on his skin.
“If you want him dead, just say the word, my love,” James whispered in my ear.
I stared down at the beast as James put more distance between us. “Another time, my captain. Another time.”
“Very well,” he said and shifted me in his arms so I wouldn’t have to look at the dust from my queen’s bones on the practitioner’s skin any longer.
The shimmering of James’ hook caught my eye as he carried me around the wake. Twice I reached for it before I managed to curl my fingers around the smoothness of the curve. The warmth it brought me wrapped around my body. James missed a step, though he didn’t say anything as I released my grasp on it. Even so, I could feel something was different between us now. Somehow stronger and even more delicate than before. Perhaps I was just projecting my feelings and my fears.
“It suits you,” I said, longing to touch it again, but I wanted to do so without so many eyes on us.
“It’s…it will do.”
“You asked for it, remember?” I whispered. “An enchanted hook to keep me close.”
I was rewarded with his heart stopping smirk. I laced my arms around his neck and rested my head in the nook under his chin. The pounding of his heart hammered in my ears. It's staccato matched mine. With all eyes on us, James nuzzled my hair and kissed me softly.
“Just breathe, my love,” James whispered in my ear. “I’ve got you now.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. He carried me to the entrance on the platform. The monarch met us there.
Kensington handed me the mermaid tear. “Would it be wise to assume this is for those marks on your back?”
I didn’t answer him. He didn’t need to know all about me. “Do try to keep up, Kensington. My deranged ex is coming to Neverland to collect me. If he can’t have me, there will be plenty of opportunities to use this tear.”
“That’s what you keep saying,” Kensington quipped. “But that tongue of yours is something else. You are quite skilled at speaking partial truths.” He turned his attention to James, and asked, “When will you strike an accord with the mermaids?”
“As soon as Miss Bell recovers,” James said and then added, “I would expect a proper man of your status to have a room to set us up in.”
Kensington’s expression was hard to read as he contemplated having us stay with him. Having an alliance was vastly different than being allies. The royal’s face suddenly softened.
“Of course, I should warn you that most others might not welcome you with the open arms in which I have,” he said, with the utmost civility. “I can have guards stationed right outside your door—for your protection of course.”
“See to it that Deval is one of them,” James said, in a voice so deep it made my insides tighten.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever believed I’d be welcomed at the Crown Estate, or be in an alliance with the very trinket that made dust of my queen.
Chapter 12
Miss Bell
Clutching me close, James carried me through the Crown Estate. Kensington insisted it was the most protected place, though I was beginning to suspect he simply wanted to parade me around town.
“They are undressing you with their eyes,” James muttered under his breath.
“They would not like what they see,” I replied, closing my eyes.
I felt their gazes crawling all over me. I didn’t need to see it in their eyes. And if they weren’t jealous looks of lust, their stares were murderous in nature. Again, nothing I wanted to commit to memory.
With my grip tight on James’ hook, I nuzzled into his embrace and focused on his heartbeat. It strummed along with mine until they were almost in sync with each other.
The adrenaline rush slowed, and with it, my fight. I just wanted to embrace sleep—peaceful sleep. Being escorted by the very men who had fantasized about killing me and finding myself relaxed enough was all because of James.
“I trust you with my life,” I mumbled, vaguely aware we’d walked inside.
James buried his head in my hair and kissed me. “Good.”
The air changed. There was no longer a breeze, but rather wafts from a fan. The strike of James’ boots hit the wooden floor. A slight squeak of a door.
“She loves you,” Kensington commented.
“Do you have a point?” James replied, tightening his grip around me.
“Only that I’ve never seen her completely give herself to anyone like she has you, and I’ve known Tinker…I’ve known Bell for many years,” Kensington stated.
“She’s told me a bit about your colorful past,” James said, still guarded with his words.
“That is quite a politically correct way to regard our relationship,” Kensington said and then there was another squeak of a door. “Deval will be on rotation with five other guards to be positioned outside your door. I will guarantee your safety inside my home, but I make no promises outside these walls. I rule my men, but I am quite certain none would take kindly to a fairy inside the estate.”
Deval snorted. “Outside these walls, I’d be tempted to kill her myself.”
“Which is why I want you close,” James said and then paused. “Miss Bell requires medical attention.”
There was a long enough pause in which I wasn’t certain if I simply took a long blink or if I’d drifted. But the next thing I recalled was the arguing of men. Men argued—a lot. Why were they always fighting? The passing thought lingered in my mind as I tried to keep away the darkness of sleep.
“That’s too much to pay!” James yelled.
“That is my price.”
“She might die!” James argued.
“Then so will Deval,” the man said. His voice was so familiar, but I couldn’t quite think clearly enough to make out who it was. “That was our agreement, was it not?”
My consciousness slipped again. I stirred when I no longer felt James’ embrace. Instead, the softness of a pillow cupped the side of my face. Burying his face in my hair, his fingertips lingered down my neck, and his hand spilled on top of my shoulders. I closed my eyes and drifted as he made little designs on my back.
“Forgive me, my love. I’ll figure out how to fix this later.”
“What did he break now?” an annoyed voice echoed in my mind.
I opened my eyes. No longer was I in Kensington’s home but rather on the Jolly Roger—inside the captain’s quarter’s to be more specific. The inside looked very little like I recalled. The boards making up the walls were charred, making it gray and black in appearance. The scent of burnt wood carried on the ocean’s wind, mixing in with the salt water. The window glowed hot. Be
ads of glass drizzled down, making it appear like water. At any second, it would crumble. The boards under my feet burned. Flames flickered between the cracks.
Framed by the door stood Peter. His body tensed, his stare hollowed, and his face twisted—just like usual. But peppered up and down his neck were marks left by a lover.
“Wendy?” I commented, eyeing the bruises.
“James?” Peter mimicked, glancing at my throat, my wrists, my waist, and then down my legs.
It was only then I realized I was dressed in a sheer nightgown. The purple bruises around my hip showed through.
The possessive way he looked at me sent a shiver up my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep him from gaping at me. “James would never.”
“Then who?”
Who wasn’t trying to harm me? Up until a handful of seconds ago, the mermaid doyenne and her loyal subjects, the monarch and his murderous natives, and the practitioner, all of whom would rather see me bleed to death than live another day. None of which would surprise Peter.
However, there was only one group of the three who still wouldn’t care if I lived or died. The mermaids. That James and I managed to gain the alliance of the most remarkable force in Neverland stunned me.
But Peter didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that we’d somehow gained allies in this hellhole.
I clutched my throat. “Deval.”
“The monarch’s lieutenant,” Peter acknowledged.
Next, I dragged my fingers across my shoulder. His eyes tracked my fingers across my skin. “The practitioner.” I lowered my hands by my sides, spreading them wide. “Take your pick of the mermaid.”
“You need me.” His eyelids were heavy as he raised them to meet mine.
“I should never have left you in Neverland,” I said, truthfully. I pressed my lips together before adding that I wished I had ended his life before fleeing.
“No, you shouldn’t have, darling.”
“I wish you’d come back now.”
Gripping the door frame, Peter pulled himself into the room like he had to force himself closer to me.
I caught a glimpse of the fiery sails when he moved out of the way. The ship’s deck, masts, rails—everything glowed hot like it was still on fire. Embers blew in the wind, slowly fluttering to sea. It would be a long time before the ship slowly burned into dust. The destruction this warship undertook and still floated above water—it should be laid to rest at the bottom of the ocean next to the Atocha.
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