Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy

by Heather C. Myers

  “Wait a minute!” Remy exclaimed the instant the passed a full-length mirror.

  The mirror itself looked somewhat out of place, considering James had not even hung pieces of art on the walls of his home. In fact, there was nothing decorative in the house at all, nothing that made it his home. In fact, it made Remy miss her father’s pieces of art that hung down every hallway, some paintings even hung in particular rooms. They were not by famous artists and did not cost much, but her father valued them, and that seemed to be worth something to him. Her mother had decorated each room to her liking, picking out specific rugs and wallpaper that matched nicely. Each room had its own theme, and her father even managed to pick a painting that went with his wife’s chosen theme. Their home was eccentric and bright, to say the least, but it always felt like home to Remy.

  This probably did not feel like home even to James.

  “Yes?” Pam asked, turning her head so she could lock eyes with Remy.

  She was always polite, even when she was slightly annoyed and perhaps a tad frustrated. Remy had to hand it to the girl – if she had had that patience when she had been Pam’s age, she would have been the perfect child. Instead, she had demanded her way and refused to give in. She prided herself on being strong and holding her ground, but she realized now that she was being rude and closed-minded. She clenched her jaw and her heart hurt at the thought of her parents. She missed them and wished she could apologize for the liberties she had taken with them without so much as an appreciative word.

  “I…” Remy’s eyes were drawn back to her reflection, and she made a face at herself. “Is this what I look like?”

  Remy’s brown hair stuck up in every which way, and her eyes had dark rings underneath them. She had not worn powder or rogue in a while, and her hair desperately needed a thorough washing, as did her body. She purposefully ignored smelling herself, afraid of what the odor might be, and instead, tried to mask it with the sweet smelling creams and lotions James provided.

  “Pam, if I may, I need a bath,” she said.

  “I thought you wanted to speak to James,” Pam pointed out. Her voice was a little stronger the more she spoke to Remy, and Remy hoped that meant she was getting more comfortable with her.

  “Yes, well,” Remy said, glancing at Pam from the corner of her eye. “I changed my mind. Aren’t I entitled to change my mind? And certainly you can’t expect me to speak to him looking like this? That would be akin to disrespect, Pam!”

  Pam pressed her lips together, and Remy couldn’t be sure, but it appeared as though she was trying to contain a smile. Well, that was a start with her handmaiden. After that lecture, Remy wanted to make amends in some way, even if she didn’t exactly mean to.

  --

  The hot water licked her skin the same way a dog lapped up water on a hot day. Remy let out another moan of pleasure as she scrubbed the grime that had collected on her body off with the rag Pam had provided. Pam offered to bathe her, but Remy insisted on solitude. She needed peace and quiet in order to help her think. She had never been much of a planner. Instead, she made things up as she went along, adapting to whatever situation was thrown at her. Sometimes, it worked; other times, it did not.

  Now, however, the situation called for more strategic planning. If she was to learn anything, if she was to gain any sort of traction, it was necessary to consider all angles of possibilities. Also, she needed a sound strategy.

  In a way, Remy was glad for the time she was able to spend alone on James’s ship and read. She learned more about him than anybody would have guessed. Given the fact that she knew he was a Viking and could speak the language, Remy could research Vikings in the makeshift library. It was tedious reading at best, but she had learned a lot, and one thing she knew would work in her favor was the fact that Vikings were red-blooded males. The liked all things feminine due to the contrast between the sexes. As such, she needed to look more ladylike than the majority of Magdalena’s wardrobe provided. One thing she could do was bathe. The next thing she could do was change out of the pantaloons and tunics she had grown accustomed to since her time with Nick.

  Nick…

  Remy shook her head. She could not dwell on Nick just yet. She needed to stay focused. Once she had the information she needed, she could start thinking about escape and returning to Nick. For now, she had to think about James, and figuring out the best way to seduce him without being obvious about it.

  She made sure to wash with soap that had a scent that would linger on her skin long after she dried off. If he could smell her from a few paces away, it might draw him closer to her. If he got closer to her, she might be able to distract him. If she was able to distract him, he might not realize what he confessed.

  But everything had to be executed perfectly. There was no room for mistakes.

  Once she dried off, she would return to her room and sort through Magdalena’s dresses – assuming she had more than that awful purple one. She needed dresses that fit Remy’s body, that highlighted Remy’s perfections and hid her flaws. If she had an outfit that fit her in all the right places, James would not be able to best her again.

  If her mother were here, she would have had the perfect outfit to draw the eyes to her chest. She would say that the neck and the collarbone could be just as sensual as her chest – maybe even more so. On a particularly important night like a ball or a debut, she might do Remy’s hair herself and curl her hair for hours. They would go over everything Remy would be expected to do in order to win over a gentleman or practice her demureness. At the time, Remy was bored to tears. At the time, Remy tuned her mother out and wished Beatrice was here because Beatrice would not talk all that much and Remy could forget that she was required to attend yet another society function.

  Remy pressed her lips together as her eyes filled with unshed water. She had been wishing she was anywhere else but at home, with her mother. She had ignored her, rolled her eyes, talked back. She took her mother for granted. And she missed her now. That was certain.

  Before Remy could stop herself, her tears started to fall. Her makeup was ruined, her eyes were red. She missed her mother. She missed her father. As much as she liked Nick and the crew and sailing around on ships and not being responsible for anyone but herself, she missed her home.

  A knock interrupted her sobs – she realized she was sobbing only when another noise interrupted her – but the door swooped open before she could rub the tears off her face. There stood James, and he looked devastatingly handsome that it almost hurt her to look at him. He wore a white tunic that clung to his frame and blue, high-waisted breeches. On his feet with ebony-colored boots so clean, she could see her reflection in them.

  “You are crying.”

  The words spoken together made sense, but James seemed confused at best. Remy blinked a few times in order to clear up her vision so she could see him better. He stepped in her room so he was able to close the door behind him; however, once he did so, he did not step in any further. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

  “Because I miss my home,” she replied honestly. Her tone was rough, soft, raw.

  “You miss Grey and the Black Star?” James asked, tilting his head to the side. “The crew on his ship?”

  “No,” Remy said, shaking her head. A couple of curls sprung loose from their confines and fell in her face as she did so. “I miss my home. That ship, your ship, this place… This isn’t my home. My home is still on earth, with my mother and my father.”

  “Oh.” He still did not seem to understand.

  “Don’t you miss your home?” she asked. “Before you died? Don’t you miss your parents? Your wife or lover or romantic partner?”

  James snorted, his eyes flashing. “I have never had a wife, nor do I intend to,” he told her. “Forever is a long time when you can’t die, and commitment to one person f
or forever is practically impossible. I have not had a romantic partner that I can remember. Same with my lovers. My parents are dead, but I do not miss them. They are in their final resting place. I am happy they have each other and can move on.”

  “So you miss no one?” Remy asked, her tone laced with doubt. Certainly there was someone who affected him in such a way that caused their lack of presence to linger in his mind. Everyone had, at least, one person that affected them in a special way. Even someone like James Hook. “Not even… Magdalena?”

  If she caught him by surprise with the name, he gave no indication of it. Not even his eyes flickered.

  “Magdalena is off doing something for me,” he told her. “If you must know, it’s to keep an eye on your beloved Captain Grey.”

  “I do not love Nick.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted them. James smirked and Remy felt guilt seep into her stomach and take a tight grip on her, strangling her so she could not breathe. Regardless if what she said was true, it was none of James’s business. And it was something she was still trying to figure out herself.

  Figure out, her mother’s voice tsked. The French accent was particularly thick, as it usually was when she understood something nobody else did. Her frustration would cause this little wrinkle over her nose – the same wrinkle Remy got when she was frustrated as well. You’ve already figured it out. The less you think about what you are saying, the more honest you are. Do not feel guilty for your feelings, Remy. You are entitled to feel whatever you want, no matter what.

  “I shall make a note of that,” James said. Now his eyes were smirking as much as his lips were, and Remy found she was very annoyed by it. “It’s pertinent information.”

  “It’s also none of your business,” she snapped.

  “Then why share it in the first place?” He grinned even wider and she saw his pearly white teeth. “Tell me, Remy, do you miss him? Captain Grey, I mean.”

  “I do not remember giving you leave to address me by my Christian name,” she said. “I find I am very tired. I shall lie down.”

  “Are you… dismissing me?” he asked, taken aback by her words.

  She wanted to smirk but she did not have the energy. “I am,” she said. “I apologize. My emotions are getting the better of me, and I would not want you to see me in a troubling time.”

  James nodded, but the humor left his face. “I will leave,” he said. When he reached the doorway, he paused. “But please do us both a favor and do not feed me shit lies. Just because you are a woman does not mean you can hide behind emotions. You are stronger than that. And I want you to know that I know that. And I think you know that, too.”

  Without another word, he left.

  Chapter 8

  Magdalena knew Nick’s choices were not any of her business. Technically speaking, he was her captain now, and as such, she needed to follow him blindly, keep her mouth shut unless he specifically asked for her opinion, and most certainly not question his motives or his sanity. However, Magda found that all logic went out with the window with this particular pirate captain. As such, her feet began to move on their own accord and led her straight to Nick and the mystery woman he was speaking to.

  “Nick,” she began but stopped. “Captain. Captain Grey.”

  She flashed her blue eyes at the woman, hoping to get a good view of her face and commit it to memory. The woman was striking; everything about her face exuded beauty and grace. She had almond-shaped brown eyes with flecks of honey in them, a small, upturned nose, with a splash of dark freckles on the bridge of her nose. The only makeup on her was rouge on her lips – a bold red that caused her to stand out more than she already did. She wore a thin gold headband that wrapped around her forehead like a halo.

  “Ah,” the woman said in her melodious voice. “And who is this, Nick? I did not realize you had more to your crew than the four assigned to you.”

  “Magdalena,” Magda said before Nick could respond. “And I’m not officially part of his crew. I’m just here to…” She let her voice trail off. She wished James had given her some direction as to why she was here – or, at the very least, give her a believable lie she could provide those who questioned her presence onboard Nick’s ship.

  “Hook sent her for some unknown reason,” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest. When Magda looked over at him, he gave her a shrug that seemed to imply he was not going to lie on her behalf and did not understand why she wanted to lie in the first place. “I don’t think she even knows why she’s here.”

  “My name is Esmeralda,” the woman said though she did not extend her arm. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I believe you will have a positive influence on our Nicholas Grey. I’m glad you are with him, keeping an eye on him.”

  “That makes one of us,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Pleasure,” Magda murmured, her eyes still guarded, curious.

  “I’m sure you have much to discuss,” Esmeralda said. “I shall leave you to it.” Her dark eyes refocused on Nick and glimmered with seriousness. “Heed my warning, Nick. It is high time you thought before you acted.”

  Without warning, Nick reached out and grabbed Magda's arm and proceeded to lead her away from Esmeralda's knowing smirk. He kept quiet for the duration of their walk, which surprised her since Nick had a knack for always having words for every situation. They walked through a crowd of people, Nick skillfully dodging them so they did not bump into anyone. They dodged vendors and drinks, whores and fortunetellers, all trying to turn a quick profit and better their lives in whatever way they could. Some outright begged, but they were regarded as the lowest rung on the ladder. One only begged if one had no shame. If you could work or sell something, you were expected to do it. Magda never thought about what she might have to do if she did not have a roof over her head or clothes on her back. She refused to worry about things that had not happened. As long as she kept her eyes ahead and her mind sharp, she would not have to worry at all.

  Fairies were incredibly superstitious. They believed that merely thinking something was akin to creating a reality. As such, they were very careful with their thoughts and only projected positivity. It was why Magda kept her mouth shut most of the time. She did not want to bring forth a negative reality. Though she did go through a depression after losing her wings, she was able to bounce back to her usual self. She had always been quiet, not as peppy as fairies typically tended to be, but her thoughts were always constructive. She believed heartily in the adage 'where there's a will, there's a way' to the point of stubbornness.

  "So lovely to see you, Tink," he said with dry sarcasm once they were away from the roads of Tenedor and closer to the quiet docks of the island. They were adjacent to a tall palm tree, their bodies hidden from view. Nick was positioned in front of her while Magda's back nearly touched the trunk of the tree. "Just thought you'd have yourself a nice little stroll in my direction? Just happened to overhear my conversation with Esmeralda? Hmm?" He took a step forward and it took everything in Magda to not to take a step back. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "My job," Magda said. Her jaw was tight to ensure her tone came out strong though her insides were jumping like frogs on lily pads. "You're my captain. For now. You realize you're the most important man in The Neverland, correct? You ferry souls to their final resting place. The realms would not function without you. I know you think you're charming, but many ports here are calling for your replacement. I cannot count the number of ports you are wanted in now. There is no one law here. You could be killed in an instant with hundreds of people lining up to take over. I knew you were flighty but I didn't think you'd be downright stupid."

  Nick paused, shifted his weight. He looked like he was actually thinking about what she said. Then, "You think I'm smart?"

  Magda rolled her eyes. "Is that what you got out of my speech?"

  "Of course not." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out at theses. The salt touche
d the air in a subtle way, making it smell cleaner, more fresh. “What I got out of it is that you’re worried about little ol’ me.” He grinned, causing his teeth to sparkle.

  “You are important,” Magda reiterated, her eyes flashing a darker blue than the irises normally were. “Don’t tempt fate by taking that for granted.” She paused. “Why did Esmeralda condemn you here?”

  “Are we sharing now?” Nick asked, the playfulness gone. His guard was back up. “I don’t have time for this. We have to get the potion.”

  “What potion are you talking about?” Magda asked, knitting her brow together.

  “If you’re so concerned about it, come with me,” Nick said. He stepped back from her person and spun around on the heel of her foot before heading away from town and further down the beach. Magda had no choice but to follow.

  --

  It took a good ten minutes of hiking down the beach, along the edge of the water, to get to where Nick needed to go. The sand was sticky and filled with pebbles, not soft like the sand she was used to, in both The Other World and her home with the fairies. There was a shack buried in the bushels of greenery, still adjacent to the water. It was less beach and more swamp now, with seaweed floating in the water and long, unruly grass that bent at the stem in awkward angles. It was heavy with humidity, even at night, and Magda felt herself start to sweat. She followed Nick closely, afraid to get lost in the shrubbery. Afraid of the unknown, vile insects waiting to leech onto her skin and take a bite out of her –