She wanted to lecture him about the name, but she knew he was only trying to change the subject. If he riled her up to the point of distraction, he could easily turn their conversation somewhere else. Luckily, Magda caught onto his game quickly and allowed him the satisfaction of calling her that dreadful name in exchange for more information. Instead, she tilted her head and continued to look up at him, waiting for some kind of response. She did not give him a face or any attitude; she simply gazed at him with patience. By the way his brow pushed together slightly, she knew her lack of response surprised him, which played into her plan perfectly.
“I see you underestimated me as well,” she said with a smile, genuine in nature. Her eyebrow raised in a challenge, but not an aggressive challenge.
Nick grinned in return, and for a moment, the two smiled at each other. As though they were companions. As though they were friends and not forced into an unfortunate situation neither of them had any control over.
“Touché,” he said with a nod of his head. He looked at her with those sharp eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Magdalena could not help but be drawn to the muscles that sprung up when he flexed his arm. “Can I ask how you knew? That I was a Breather, I mean?”
Magda paused for a moment, then reached out and placed her hand on his chest. She was surprised at her boldness, surprised she even touched him in the first place. He, too, seemed just as startled, but he did not back away, and for that, she was grateful. It would have been embarrassing should he have dropped her hand, pushed her away, especially since she was vulnerable.
Her hand was on his chest, and she could feel it right there. His heart beat.
“I can hear it,” she told him, picking her eyes up so they could lock with his.
He was not as tall as James was, she realized. But that did not matter all that much. He was still pleasant to look at. He still towered over her.
“I can feel it.”
She pressed her palm more firmly into his skin. She had made sure to slide it underneath his dirty tunic so there was nothing inhibiting her from feeling it. She had never felt a heart beat before – except for her own. It was calm and steady though it did jump once or twice after she touched him. His skin was surprisingly soft, warm even, and comfortable. Magda would not admit it out loud, but she let her hand linger far longer than was necessary so she could commit the feeling to memory, just in case she would never feel it again.
A heartbeat in The Neverland that was not her own. A miracle.
“Captain!”
The redhead broke Magda out of her thoughts and she dropped her hand as though his flesh was made of fire and he had burned her. Her face turned an unattractive shade of red and she took a step back from him, and then, after second thought, took another step back. It was almost as though she did not trust herself around him. And perhaps she did not.
Thank God for redheads, Magda thought to herself, and turned her eyes to Nick’s crew. She still did not know who they were and why they served Nick. She still did not know how this entire process of ferrying souls to The Crossroads worked, and she felt that if she could get a good understanding of that, then perhaps she could decipher James’s plan with Remy.
From the corner of her eye, Magda saw a smirk on Nick’s face – not because of the interruption, but no doubt due to her reaction to the interruption. She hated Nick more than she thought she could.
The redhead did not even look at her as she spoke. “The souls here are lacking,” she went on. “Where are we going and what are we doing?”
“Clearly,” Nick said, offering her his charm smile. Magda noticed the redhead roll her brown eyes at his attempt to charm her. The fairy hid her own smile. “We are going to take them to The Crossroads just as we would have.” His hair fell into his face as he tilted his chin down. “So. When do you plan to tell me why you sprung me and my crew out of jail?” He placed his hands on the banister of the ship, blocking Magda in. He leaned in so he was close to her, a forearm’s length apart. “I know Hook sent you. You wouldn’t have left his side otherwise. What I don’t understand is why. Perhaps he’s gotten tired of you and that is why he requires Remy’s presence.”
Before she could stop herself, Magda reached out and slapped him. It freed her from his arm prison, and she managed to weasel around him, putting a greater distance between the two. Her breathing was ragged, and she hated the feeling of internal pain that twisted in her gut and gripped it tight, to the point where it might never let her go.
Magda had not thought much about it, but Nick’s words were a little too close to home. James had tossed her aside the minute he had Remy in his possession. He sent her on some mission to keep Nick distracted, a mission anyone else could have done. She should be with him now, protecting him at his side, where she belonged. Instead, she was here, with some captain she did not like or even respect. She shouldn’t be here. She did not want to be here.
Now, everyone was staring at her. It was clear Nick’s words got to her. She was certain her eyes were dead giveaways. She hated how obvious she was being, how openly vulnerable. She should have been better controlled. She should get a better check on her emotions, especially if she was going to be here for a while. She wanted to retire to her room, but she did not want to run away. However, the longer she stayed here, the more exposed she left herself for the crew to see.
Before she could make a decision one way or the other, Edward called, “Land ho!”
Chapter 5
Two more weeks passed in much the same way. Remy started to talk to herself as a way to keep herself entertained, and she worried she was going mental. Pam had proven a fascinating person and while she had made headway with her, Pam was still somewhat reserved. She had read more Shakespeare than she had ever intended in her entire life, and indulged in some scandalous gothic novels with sexuality oozing out of the pages. It would seem Captain James Hook tastes were more eclectic than she would have expected.
In fact, Remy wanted to turn her focus to her captor, James Hook. He was Scandinavian, she was certain. A Viking. He was tall – taller, even, than Nick, and Nick was already extremely tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. He had a face like a Greek god, with crystal blue eyes and short blond hair slicked back from his clean-shaven face. He always wore pristine clothing, with fitted boots so clean she could probably eat off of. In truth, he reminded her of the sun – she could not stop staring at him though it was bad for her to.
She wanted to learn more about this man. This man who was so ugly he was beautiful, so flawless he was flawed. No one aboard his ship would say much about him, save for the fact that he had been a Viking whilst alive. No one would tell her if he was a king or a ruler back on earth, if he had a wife or a woman who waited on him. No one would tell her if he was a good man, one deserving of respect and admiration. He ruled over what she knew as Hell – The Other World – where fire was supposed to be a norm and torture daily for every occupant residing there. But James Hook was unlike any devil she had met, and she found herself drawn to him, much like a moth to a flame. Except she would not stop flying and he would incinerate her without blinking, she was sure of it.
By the time Pam got to her door, she was in the middle of a very important part of a symphony she was pretending to play at her desk. She did not even beckon her maid in so she could finish the last verse.
Remy nearly fell off her stool when a decidedly male voice cleared his throat.
“Mozart?” James asked with a raised brow. His perfect face looked amused, and while she wanted nothing more than to scowl in return, her face turned too red to do so.
Instead, she whipped around to her mirror and pretended to make grand gestures out of the air with her hair. “I have no idea what you are referring to,” she told him and was thankful her tone came out as nonchalant. “I’ve been trying to comb the knots out of my hair the past hour because your excuse of a brush is not doing its sole job.”
“Okay.” He offered her a small smi
le, which completely lit up his face, and caused Remy to forget how to breathe temporarily. “We shall go with your explanation.”
Remy did not hear him. She was too busy staring. She knew he was beautiful; there was no denying it, and when they met before, the statement rang true then just the same as it did now. However, there was something different about that beauty. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was here in her bedroom alone with him, with the door shut. Perhaps his beauty was too intimate for her level of comfort.
“Do I paralyze you?”
James cocked his head to the side, and though Remy wanted to tear her eyes away from him and not give him that satisfaction, she found she could not look away from him, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, she swallowed and tried to study him in the same way he was clearly studying her. She wanted to make him feel this odd, bubbly, heavy feeling she was currently experiencing.
The more she looked at him, the more she realized he seemed genuinely surprised by her reaction to him, which seemed odd. A man with such power, such beauty, typically had the arrogance to match. She had seen his arrogance in action. Why would he doubt her inability to function around him if he knew the effect he caused on women?
“I only ask because Captain Grey seems taken with you, which says a lot for a pirate.” He tilted his head to the opposite side and took a step toward her, invading her personal space. She should back away, she should deny it, but he was correct; she was paralyzed by him, and she could not pretend otherwise.
Then his words hit her like a body hitting the surface of water, and she blinked.
Nick.
How could she forget about Nick?
Remy knew he felt something for her. Originally, she believed those feelings were little more than lust, attraction, and friendship. However, there was a possibility that he could feel more… Which was what she wanted, was it not? She felt something for him, didn’t she?
She swallowed and finally did step away from him though every fiber of her being screamed at her not to do so. She had to think about Nick. Nick, the man who saved her life. Nick, with his warm brown eyes and lopsided smile and his rough hands and big heart.
Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick.
James’s lips quirked into a smirk, and she hated that he was amused by her inner turmoil. She hated herself even more because somewhere, deep inside of her, knew he was right, and her stomach churned over with guilt.
Wait a minute, her mother's voice said. Did you not have a plan laid out where you would use your feminine wiles to woo him? This is the perfect opportunity for you to do so. Do not cower away - I did not raise you to be afraid. Put that pirate out of your head for now. Your feelings for him are conflicted at best. You can sort through that mess later, at a more appropriate time. This is more pressing. Also, he is quite handsome and supremely wealthy. He is the perfect specimen to practice on.
Remy blushed, and was surprised her mother's internal pep talk worked, but it did. She could feel adrenaline coursing through her body and her mind working into overdrive, trying to figure out how to get control of the situation. She wished she was wearing one of her own dresses made specifically to her body type. If Beatrice was here as well, she would paint Remy into a masterpiece. Instead, she had on a purple dress that was right on her bust and pinched at her waist. Her breasts being pressed together and pushed upward would most certainly help distract James but the dress was not made for her. It was made for someone smaller, more petite. Someone like Magdalena.
The thought of Magdalena made her pause. Where was she? Her lack of presence had yet to be explained to her, and it was odd that someone James so clearly trusted was not at his side. She wondered if there was anything more between them, anything romantic. Remy remembered the look of pure distrust on Magdalena's face as he welcomed both her and Nick into his home. Magdalena did not trust Remy, and Remy could not blame her. But was it because Remy was a Breather, an outsider, or a woman?
Either way, even if there was something between them, James still looked at her with something in his eyes. She was not sure if he looked at her so openly on purpose it if it was not something he could help. Remy did not want to flatter herself that he was attracted to her when he might simply be manipulating her the way she was going to attempt to manipulate him.
"You do," she found herself saying. She tilted her head to the side, exposing the long column of her throat. She was grateful she thought to pin up her hair today. Her mother always stressed innocent exposure of skin was nearly as tempting as exposing cleavage or an ankle. The neck was feminine and sweet; Charlie always stared at it whenever her hair was up. There was a chance James would be taken with it as well. "I don't know what you want with me. It's been weeks, and while my every need is tended to, while I am fed and bathed and protected by the walls of your home, my days pass slowly. I have no idea what you intend to do with me. You seem friendly enough, the rare moments I see you at all. But I do not find I trust you very much though that seems to be what you want. There is a reason why I'm here, after all, and the fact that I still do not know why forces me to be on my guard. So yes, you do paralyze me. I am cautious when you are around. I have no other choice."
She watched as his eyes lingered on her neck, and she smiled inwardly.
“I have come to tell you that we are a night away from The Other World,” he said, his eyes still focused on the length of her neck. There was a hungry look in his blue eyes, and for a moment, Remy believed that he would stalk over to her and claim it with her mouth. The thought caused Remy to swallow; she had never thought about something like that before. “In your time with Captain Grey, did he mention what The Other World is?”
“Only that it is another name for Hell,” Remy said. “That people are sent there for restitution and punishment. Their lives are filled with daily torture until their penance has been paid.”
James nodded once. “That’s an accurate description,” he said. “Although, there is more to it. Certain people are here who were not punished based on their actions on earth. Sometimes, they choose to be here because they are not ready to move on but cannot gain employment in The Neverland. Sometimes, they simply do not want to be there. It is at my discretion who I allow to reside in my realm.”
“I don’t understand,” Remy said, furrowing her brow. “Why would a person – a soul, I apologize – choose life in Hell than life in Neverland?”
“The Other World is not Hell,” James corrected, but gently. His eyes were soft, not sharp and calculating as they usually were. “For some, it is. It is the worst thing imaginable. But not to everyone. The Other World is my realm, which means the souls that dwell here answer to me. It also means there is one law, one ruler, and everyone knows what is expected of them. The Neverland, on the other hand, is one land with no rules. Well, actually, no. Each port has its own rules. Which means rules change constantly at each governor’s whim. It’s an unruly place, with criminals running amuck. Some souls prefer order, and that is why they are here.”
“Why not The Paradise?” Remy asked, quirking a brow.
“The Paradise is for a select few,” James explained. “Only the ruler can permit entrance.”
“Wait, I do not understand,” Remy said. “If no one rules The Neverland, then who is The Magistrate?”
“She regulates affairs,” James said, and his eyes darkened to a midnight blue. His voice got tight and he clenched his jaw so it popped.
“You do not like her very much, I take it?”
“I have no opinion of her whatsoever,” James said, “and if I did, it would not be worth sharing. In fact, she has summoned me to a meeting in a week’s time.”
“Why?”
Now, it was James who shrugged. Somehow, he was able to make it look fluid and graceful, much like a feline.
“I do not waste my time trying to decipher the intricacies of her mind,” James said, and though Remy was certain he did not intend to, his tone was clipped and short.
“Do y
ou think your meeting has anything to do with me?” Remy asked, and her finger found a strand of her hair and she started to twirl it mindlessly. Except, it was not mindless. She knew men tended to like mindless tics on women because it went into the notion that they, themselves, were mindless. If James underestimated her as simply another pretty face, there was a good chance he would be more forthcoming with information.
James grinned at her question. “Do you think everything now has to do with your presence here?” he returned.
“Here, or in The Neverland in general?” Remy asked. “You said so yourself I am an important tool to get whatever it is you’ve wanted for a very long time. If this thing you want is something more than just you can achieve, certainly more people might be after me. Perhaps The Magistrate wants to meet with you about me.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed. He leaned toward her, closing in on her personal space. It was as though he sucked up all the air by doing so because she found she could not breathe. “You are much more than a high society girl with a pretty face and perfectly chosen words, are you not?”
Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy Page 4
