Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy

by Heather C. Myers

  There was a question she had wanted to ask since she had first met Captain Hook, but she did not think it was appropriate: how did he lose his left hand? She thought she might ask Pam, but there was hardly a chance the maid would share, if she knew at all. She wondered if it had anything to do with Peter. She paused for a moment, and instead of continuing to look at her reflection in the mirror in her – Magdalena’s – room, she thought back to when they first arrived.

  Remy needed Pam’s assistance to walk her down the pathway and over to the waiting carriage. She was thankful James owned the docks so his ship could pull up to it, and it would appear his place of residence was just up the hill, a short carriage ride away. She had no luggage, she all she needed to worry about was ensuring the clothes on her back looked presentable on her person.

  She and Pam were the first people to exit the ship, and once their feet hit the wooden dock, Remy nearly fell off of it and into the water. There, holding a hard board and a pen was none other than Peter Pan, the very man who had beat her within an inch of her life. He was dressed well – he always was – even for a dock master. His clothes were pressed, his auburn hair was combed to the side. Nothing was out of place. Except the fact that someone like him would actually be seen working as a dock master.

  When his dark eyes caught sight of her, his lips curled into a dark grin, as though he knew exactly what she was feeling on the inside, despite trying to hide it on the outside. She knew it was too late but she turned her nose up at him, and prepared to head to the carriage without sparing him a second thought.

  “Ms. Cutler,” Pan called after her. She did not want to look, but she found she could not help it. When her eyes met his, his grin turned wicked, and he said, “It’s good to see your recovery is going smoothly.”

  Pam glanced over at Remy, her eyes wary. Remy could not blame her. Even though she felt safe with James, even though she knew Pan could not hurt her, she could not help but feel a shiver of dread yank her senses within its grip and shake her spine out of alignment. She clutched at Pam a little tighter and Pam let her.

  "Does he know you, mum?" she asked in a whisper, despite the fact that they were safely in the carriage. There was no way he could possibly hear them though Remy had a sneaking suspicion those dark eyes were locked on the carriage like he could see through the dark oak.

  Remy swallowed, not sure whether to tell Pam just how well Peter Pan knew her. "He is the reason I could not walk correctly for the past four weeks," she said, staring straight ahead at the empty seat in front of her. It helped not looking directly at Pam. It was almost as though she were talking to herself. "Apparently, he and James had some kind of arrangement that involved me. James explicitly told him not to harm me, but Peter did not listen." Pam grabbed Remy's hand and squeezed. "James said something about him renigging on their deal, and then Peter just disappeared."

  "If you make a deal with a ruler and you do not hold your end of the bargain, you forfeit your soul to them," Pam explained. "It is just odd James placed him here after everything he went through."

  Pam frowned. What he went through? As in – what James Hook went through? It caused her mind to race with thoughts. Had Peter been culpable for James’s hand? If so, why would James enter into a deal with a man who marred him for the rest of his life? What could Peter do that others could not? What made him so special?

  Whatever it was, a voice pointed out, it probably made him just as dangerous.

  Remy agreed but she did not say so. She respected Pam - she even liked the young girl - but she did not completely trust her. Not yet.

  "Where will I be staying?" Remy thought it was best to change the subject. Her hands played with the wrinkles of her skirt, and her eyes were on the green pattern. She absolutely detested wearing the same outfit twice, especially in such a short span of time, but with such limited options, she did not have much of a choice. "Hopefully a room with a view of the grass? I've seen the ocean plenty these past few weeks; I'm ready for solid ground."

  Pam rolled her eyes at Remy's snobbishness, which was perfectly fine with Remy.

  “Pam,” Remy said, and this time, her tone was gentle. Serious, even. She looked at her maid. “I’m going to ask you a direct question, and while I respect the fact that you may not want to answer it, it would mean a lot to me if you did. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about the sort of woman I’m becoming and the sort of woman I want to be. I realize I miss my home desperately. I want nothing more than to go home. I know you know I’m not dead, and I wanted to know if, perhaps, you knew of anyone like me. Alive in this place. Is there a way to return home?”

  Pam’s eyes flashed, and Remy could tell there was something Pam knew that she was not telling her. Not yet, anyway.

  “I” - She shook her head, her eyes starting to water, and for a moment, Remy worried that she offended the young girl in some way. “I was like you. Before.”

  Remy furrowed her brow. “I must apologize, Pam,” she said. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Breathers are not supposed to be down here,” Pam explained. “Yet here you are. Everyone knows that Nicholas Grey is also a Breather, but not because he cheated death. He was condemned here, forced to learn a karmic lesson he had not learned on earth. How did you end up here?”

  Remy paused, not sure what she should say and what she should keep to herself. As much as she wanted to trust Pam, as much as she liked the girl, something stopped her from divulging too much information. Not necessarily because she did not trust her, but because she did not want to be naïve. How was Remy to know if Pam would not take the information directly to James? What if it was not what he wanted to hear, and it ruined his plans? What would he do then? And, more frightening, what if it was exactly what he wanted to hear, and confirmed information he needed to know?

  She cleared her throat. “Nick took me,” she decided to say. It was not a lie, but it was not the truth. “I do not understand the mechanics of how he was able to walk amongst realms, but he saved me from an untimely death and brought me here. The only problem is, now I’m uncertain how to get back, and he doesn’t seem to know, either.”

  Pam’s eyes widened. “You were taken, too?” she asked. “It’s my understanding that Breathers can walk through realms because they are tied back to earth. Nick must have the power to do so, but can’t seem to figure out how to get you back.”

  “Wait a minute,” Remy said. “You were taken? By whom?”

  Pam faltered and Remy watched as her face turned a noticeable shade of pink.

  “I suppose it does not matter,” she said after a minute. Her voice was bitter, her eyes even more so. “I am here. I was not supposed to be here, but then something happened, and I died.”

  “How” –

  “I fell,” Pam said shortly. “And that’s all I’m going to say on that.”

  “Pam,” Remy said, sincerity brimming in her tone. “You have no idea how sorry I am to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

  “Why would you think you could do anything for me?” Pam all but spat. The carriage pulled up to the house, the horses coming to a stop. “I am here now, and that is all that matters. James gave me this position. I’ve been with him a long time. I’ve seen women come and go. You cannot help me. Please do not even offer my help. You are the last person I would ask help for.”

  Remy pressed her lips together but said nothing. She knew Pam was merely reacting to the memories currently flooding in her mind. Despite the length of time she had been here did not mean she still was not fourteen still, at least sometimes. All Remy wanted to do was reach out and hug her, but she refrained. She did not think that would be the wisest of decisions.

  “Of course,” Remy said instead. “I apologize.”

  Pam’s eyes softened, and she looked at Remy almost regretfully. “I suppose I snapped,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She looked out the door when a man – probably one of James’s butlers – opened the carria
ge door for them. Instead of leaving, however, she looked back at Remy. “This place is a dark place, Ms. Cutler. People look out for themselves first and foremost. Offering help makes you look weak and pathetic. I tell you this because I’ve come to believe there’s more to you than just your pretty face. It would behoove you to take care. The tides turn quickly here.”

  And then she was out, leaving Remy no choice but to follow her.

  The memory itself was long but filled with things that Remy took notes on. Her reaction to Pan, Pam’s reaction to Pam, Pam’s warning, Pam’s reason for being her. There were more questions than answers, and though she was in James’s library filled with books, she had a feeling she would not find any answers to those questions here.

  Instead, she began to rifle through the fiction selection, looking for a cozy romance she could curl up with for a few hours. She found she liked reading more than she initially believed and wanted to indulge in it as much as possible.

  She must have fallen asleep. It was the only explanation. Because when she was starting to wake up, she felt pressure on her hips, and there, a man was awkwardly sitting on her, attempting to tie her wrists together. When she tried to scream, she tasted the dry, rough material and she wanted to gag.

  All right, Remy, her voice said in her mind. Focus. You need to figure out how to get out of this one. No one’s going to come rescue you.

  She struggled underneath his weight, bucking her hips and shifting it side to side. He seemed surprised, and she used that surprise to throw him off of her. He was not able to tie her wrists down, so the minute she managed to get him off of her, she ripped off the rope from her mouth and let out the loudest scream of her life.

  The man winced, giving her even more time to hop on top of him, and start beating him with her hands. She tried to remember all that Adele had taught, the tips Nick had given her, but she could not. All she knew was that she needed to subdue this man because, for whatever reason, he was kidnapping her.

  The door to the library burst open, and in came James, a look of fierceness touching his features. Despite the fine clothes he wore, the look on his face was pure Viking. He had a sword in his right hand and stomped over to the pair. He paused when he realized Remy was in control of the situation, but only for a moment.

  “Get off,” he told her roughly. Under normal circumstances, Remy would have been offended at his brusqueness, but given the current situation, she scrambled to listen to him. Her heart was beating faster than she had ever felt it beat before, and her breathing was spotty at best. Once she was up and away from her attacker, she felt herself calm down. With James handling everything, she felt safe.

  “You,” James continued, putting the tip of the sword to his neck. “You know what I can do with this sword. You know what will happen to you should I choose to slice your throat and watch you bleed all over my carpet. As such, you have two options: you can tell me everything and survive or you can tell me nothing and die. What say you?”

  “I’ll tell!” he exclaimed. “I’ll tell.” James did not remove his sword but made no move to harm him. Yet. “The Magistrate wants her. I don’t know why. I don’t know why! All she told me was to get her unharmed and do it so no one would find out. That’s it. Please, I beg of you. That’s all I know.”

  James paused and seemed to contemplate it. Then, “I believe you.”

  The man looked relieved. Up until James added, “But you trespassed on my property in my realm and threatened someone extremely important to me. I cannot let that stand.”

  With that, he took his sword and hacked off the man’s left leg. Remy turned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach completely.

  Chapter 12

  A knock on Magdalena’s door caused her head to spring up and her hiccups to cease. It was only then that she realized she had been crying. Magdalena had been crying.

  What was going on with her? Had her monthlies started and she just hadn’t realized? Was there a reason she was acting completely unlike herself?

  She cleared her throat and hoped that when she spoke it did not reveal her current state. Then, “Come in.” It was softer than she intended, but she could not help that. She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and shoved them in her lap. She sat on the cot awkwardly, with atrocious posture James would outwardly cringe at, and hoped the sunset would cause shadows to mask the red in her eyes.

  She had never been in such a state before and, therefore, had never had to worry about presenting herself a certain way. James always stressed looking presentable even while sleeping. One never knew when a visitor in the night would surprise them, and it was important to always be prepared. Magdalena took that to heart and was always dressed in presentable clothes that were both comfortable and durable. They fit her body elegantly, but could adjust to quick movement and could not be used against her in battle. Now, she was left with Remy’s old clothes, which were just clothes Nick could no longer fit into.

  Nick.

  Blast that man.

  The fool was drinking a potion from his ex-lover because he found himself in love with Remy. Love turned men into fools and women into slaves, and Magda wanted no part of it. Nick was no exception. How could he risk his life, his body, for a woman who might not love him back? Why would he do that? It made no sense to Magda.

  Certainly you would do the same for James, a voice pointed out.

  Magda could not deny it, but she made sure to point out that she was not in love with her captain, though her affection for him was deep. Familial, even. Nick did not have the same bond with Remy as she had with James. Yet he treated her as if they did.

  Perhaps a big reason why Nick so easily crawled under Magda’s skin was the fact that she did not understand him. He was completely different than most of the men she knew. His skin was a dark tan from being out in the sun for too long, and his dark hair was getting too long and was constantly falling in his face. He would wear the same outfit every day until it smelled so bad even he knew it was time to change. Bathing was not something he did regularly, and he had dirt underneath his fingernails. He indulged in rum too often, his voice was loud, and his charm oozed out of him the way blood oozed out of the bugs that chanced making a home on Hook’s ship she had to smash with her bare hands.

  She wished she could smash Nick and be done with him.

  “Hey.”

  Magdalena picked her head up, only to find the petite blonde woman from before walking into her room, a hesitant look on her face. Magda felt her insides squirm; she knew she deserved that look. It was not her fault Magda chose to be antisocial. It was just important to her to keep her distance and do her job. She had not been looking to make friends, and she still had no intention of the sort. However, she could still reach out and be a human being.

  With that thought, Magda stood and extended her hand. It was an awkward movement; she did not possess the grace James seemed to be born with, and though he tried to engrain it in her, it did not appear she would ever be able to master it.

  “I’m Magdalena Raybourn,” she said. “Thank you for your hospitality while I stay here on your ship.”

  “Oh.” The blonde seemed surprised, and Magda did not blame her. However, she took Magda’s hand into her own and gave it a good shake. “My name is Giselle. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Magda felt herself blush with shame, but she forced herself to continue to keep her eyes focused on Giselle. She would not look away, even though she wanted to.

  “I know Nick got heated,” Giselle said, dropping her hand to her side. “He tends to do that when he’s passionate about something.”

  “Or someone,” Magda said before she could stop herself.

  Giselle smirked. “So you noticed it, too?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t here to notice what transpired between them,” Magda pointed out. “But I notice that sad look in his eyes when he thinks no one is watching him. I notice the way he stares at particular places on the ship as though
he expects someone to be there. And he was willing to drink something in order to enter The Other World undetected so he can get her back. He does not have to tell me he’s in love with her. His actions have said enough.”

  Magda paused and looked in front of her without really seeing anything. She knew the words that came out of her mouth were true, and yet something did not sit well with her. However, she could not figure out if it was the words themselves, or something deeper, something she did not quite understand.

  “Remy’s feisty,” Giselle said, not noticing Magda’s change in demeanor. “I think he likes that. She challenged him and pushed him and fought with him… but she didn’t understand him. And I don’t think he realizes that. Maybe he never will.”

  “You don’t believe she’d be a good match for Nick?” Magda asked, furrowing her brow. She did not have much experience with love of her own choosing, but she was curious to learn more about it. And the fact that this woman before her seemed to have a good deal of experience – whether it be first hand or indirect – made Magda more compelled to it than she normally would have been.