Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy

by Heather C. Myers

  “You realize these things were only meant to hold one person,” Magda said, turning her eyes away from the sunset to give Nick a look.

  He grinned, shrugged his shoulders as though he did not have a care in the world. He probably didn’t. He was on his way to save his damsel in distress, with a plan Magda could not believe he had come up with, partly because it was so ludicrous, but partly because there was a decent chance it might actually work. If she did not have to give Nick credit, she wouldn’t.

  “Why are you so worried?” Nick asked, ignoring her statement and leaning against the wooden wall, keeping the two of them plundering to their deaths. For such a big man, Magda was surprised the wood did not, at least, creak underneath him.

  “I am not worried,” Magda said, shaking her head.

  “You are,” Nick said. He had a soft smile on his face, which made all his features appear more gentle than they normally were. He looked approachable, sane. “You get this wrinkle right over your nose, right there” – he reached out and touched the bridge of her nose with his finger – “whenever you’re worried.” He shrugged. “It’s kind of cute.”

  “Of course I am worried!” Magda burst out with, her nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. Her hands began to gesture along with her words, and she tried to stop herself because she was causing an unnecessary display of emotions. However, despite her attempts, she could not control her actions. “You’ve drunk fairy blood! You should be worried.”

  “Why would I be worried?” Nick said. “It tasted fine. Don’t feel any different than I was before.”

  Magda did not have the restraint to keep from rolling her eyes. “You are incredibly frustrating,” she told him honestly.

  He grinned at her, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You’re not the first woman who’s told me that, Tink,” he said. “What are you so worried about?”

  “Do you know nothing of fairy blood?” she asked him, looking him dead in the eye. “Thankfully, you’re getting it directly from the source, so it’s not tainted. The more direct the source, the higher the purity.”

  “I should hope so,” Nick said. “With what I’ve spent on it.”

  “I’m glad that this is all a joke to you,” Magda told him, her blue eyes dark and serious. She did not know why she was taking his careless attitude personally. It made her look weak, emotional, and she did not like either descriptor. “Do you know anything about fairy’s blood? What fairies go through in order to avoid giving it up? How dangerous it is should a human know who we are? Our blood is rare. It grants life. You’re turning the very act of living into a commodity. Fairies struggle every single day to resist temptation to make an easy life and transfer their blood into a vial. It’s caused crime. It’s caused death. It’s caused our very ecosystem to turn chaotic. And fairy blood affects each individual completely different. We may never know what happened when it touched your tongue.” She pressed her lips together as she realized just how caught up in this moment she was getting. “I am worried about you. And I do not think Remy Cutler was worth risking your life for.”

  Nick look admonished during her speech but his shoulder ticked when she finished her last sentence. “I’m sorry, Tink, but that’s a point you and I will disagree on.” He paused and shot her a tentative smile. “Though you do look cute when you’re jealous.”

  “I am not cute,” Magda said, though she could not, for some reason, help being somewhat delighted at the compliment. Surely, he was attempting to use his charm to break down her walls, but she was not receptive to his charm and he knew that. Maybe… maybe he was being genuine?

  “Or jealous,” she made sure to add.

  She instantly dismissed the thought as preposterous. Nick was in love with Remy. He had told her so numerous times. Certainly, he could be attracted to her, but that did not mean anything would come of it.

  “You are,” he said, crossing his arms now, looking down at his feet.

  “May I ask you something?” Magda asked. She had no business to ask this question. If she had been speaking to James rather than Nick, she would not have asked it at all. But her curiosity got the better of her, and the fact that this was Nick made all the difference. She trusted James with her life, but there was something about Nick that caused her to lower her defenses, to let him in little by little, to feel comfortable with him in a way she never had with anyone else before. As such, before her logic could stop, before her sanity reclaimed its grip on her mind, she continued, “How do you know you’re in love with Remy?” She closed her eyes, knowing she needed to add more to that statement lest he assume she was making a judgment against him. “I’m not questioning your feelings, of course. I’m just… I’ve never been in love before, you see, and I was wondering…”

  Nick paused, his brown eyes suddenly serious. “Are you trying to get your wings back?” he asked.

  For some reason, Magdalena felt her entire face turn red. The shame of losing her wings was still with her, even now. “No, of course not,” she said quickly, then stopped. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Nick with a sense of wonder. “How did you know about fairies and their wings?”

  “I’ll let you in on a secret, Tink,” Nick said, and he seemed serious. Gone was the playfulness, the boyish charm smile. In front of her stood a grown man, serious and responsible. He was more than just a little handsome, and Magda found she was not ashamed to admit that. “I’ve been around a lot longer than people give me credit for. I pick up a few things. I know about fairies and mermaids. I know about sirens and gypsies. Esmeralda is a gypsy. She was the one who sent me here in the first place.”

  “Why?” Magda asked. She had the decency to look sheepish. “If I may ask.”

  Nick pretended to think about it. “You may,” he decided, “but only if you tell me a little about yourself in return. You’re the quietest woman I have ever met, and that’s saying something.”

  Magda nodded her head once but kept quiet. Nick would have to go first in this little exchange.

  “As you know, I tend to act before I think,” Nick explained. “I was a merchant’s son. Born and raised on a ship. Charm was natural for me – I got it from my mother – and I broke many hearts. That’s not to say I’ve never loved before, however. I’ve loved plenty in my lifetime. But the girls never returned the favor. Esmeralda took a shine to me and says she sent me here for my own good. Said I deserved a woman who would sacrifice everything for me the same way I sacrificed for them. And I wasn’t going to find it if I continued down the path I was on.”

  "Esmeralda can travel through realms?" Magda asked, furrowing her brow. "Besides you, I did not know anyone was able to do that."

  "There are certain souls, even those who have died and passed on, who can travel through the realms," Nick said. "It is all about getting to the realm you want to get to. For example, I have a crystal ball, given to me by Esmeralda so I can keep an eye on my family back on earth - or whomever I choose to observe. It was an act of kindness on her part because she did not have to give me such a useful tool. On my ship, there is a door that leads to whichever realm I want to travel to. All I need to do is focus on the point I want to get to before opening the door. And I have to want to go there. I can't just think it and the door will open. It has to be something I truly desire."

  "Which is why it opened for you when you rescued Remy from her attack," Magda said, "but not when you tried to return her. You wanted her to stay." Her eyes flashed up at him, but she kept the judgment off if her face.

  "See?" he said. "Selfish."

  "Love is not selfish," Magda found herself saying before she could stop herself. She looked away without making it obvious she wished she could take back the statement. The silence was too thick to ignore, and she knew she needed continue to speak so it did not turn suffocating. "Granted, I am not familiar with it, but if you truly love someone, you put them first. You put their desires and wishes and happiness before your own. Perhaps that is the lesson Esmeralda wants you to learn."
r />   "Are you saying my feelings for Remy as not what I say they are?" Nick asked.

  "There is no way for me to know that," Magdalena told him. "Only you can decipher what you feel for Remy. What you should ask yourself is this: you say you loved many times in your life, but it has not worked out, correct?" At Nick's nod, she continued. "If your feelings for Remy resemble those you have felt in the past for other women, perhaps you need to re-label them with a different word. Instead of love, perhaps you lust after them, you care about them, they mean a good deal to you. But if your behavior remains the same in regard to all of them, then it can't be love."

  "Because you say so?" Nick asked, getting disgruntled.

  "Because if it is love, you would not need to question your feelings," Magda said, more forcefully than she meant to. “You would not doubt yourself and you certainly would not treat them like any other lover of yours from your past."

  "And how did you become such an expert on matters of the heart?" Nick asked, tossing his head to the side so his hair flew out of his face.

  "I told you, I am not," Magda said. She was not sure if she should continue but decided he had shared something important to him. The least she could do was return the favor. "My mother gave me to James after my wings were stolen from me."

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he said. His eyes were on the wood beneath his feet until he seemed to be overcome with curiosity and shot her an intrigued look. “Can I ask you something? Did anything else go on between the two of you? Romantically, I mean? It just doesn’t make sense that Hook trusts anyone. And he trusts you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You guys are close. But what kind of close, is what I’m wondering. The guy’s a monster.”

  “He isn’t,” she said, her eyes flashing him a warning. “I understand why you might think that, I used to think that as well, but he isn’t. I assure you.”

  “Did him and you ever…” Nick trailed his voice off, pushing his brow up, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Not that that’s any of your business,” Magda retorted, “but no, we haven’t. I’ve never even” – she cut herself off, wondering why the hell she was talking so much – “but that’s not your business, either.”

  For some reason, Nick looked pleased with her response. It was completely dark now, the only light the half moon hanging in the sky. Nick looked different in the moonlight, more mature. Older.

  “You know,” Magda said, and she did not know why she was talking. Talking led to revealing secrets, especially talking that she was not in control of. Talking she was not thinking about beforehand. Her voice had gotten quiet. The background music consisting of the rolling waves made the moment much more intimate. Magda was uncomfortable, but that did not inhibit her words. She kept going, and she could not stop herself. “In the moonlight, right now, you actually look beautiful. Like a man any woman would be lucky to fall in love with.”

  Nick’s eyes flashed to her, questions in them. He looked hesitant, but Magda was not sure what he was hesitating about. Almost like he was worried that what she said was not really true, as though she were making a joke and did not mean what she said.

  Then, she did something even more stupid than talking.

  As though her body knew what it was doing, she rolled up to the balls of her feet – Nick was not tall when compared to James, but he was a good six inches taller than she was – and wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him to down until his lips were on hers and they were kissing.

  Chapter 17

  Remy hated ships. Hated them. There was nothing to do and only so much to see. Back on board the Jolly Roger left her with nothing to do except explore the ship once more and reread all of James’s books and talk to her mother’s voice in her head. More than anything, she missed her mother and her father. She understood now that stowing away on the ship was the dumbest thing she had ever done. She should have stayed put. Perhaps she would have fallen in love with Charlie. Perhaps she could have talked to her parents about marrying someone she did not love. Perhaps she could have the love she longed for and the security her parents demanded. Instead, she acted rashly and stupidly. She was a petulant child and ran away from home. If Nick had not saved her…

  She shook her head, lying in her cot, staring up at the ceiling. It was the same light brown it had been the last time she stayed here. Had that been only a week ago? It had been felt like forever ago.

  Even more so when she thought about her life on earth.

  Would she ever return home? Did she want to?

  She cared about Nick greatly, along with his crew. Giselle, Edward, Calum, and even Adele. She learned more here than she had in her seventeen years of life back in Port George. She had been a child then. Now, she felt like a woman. A woman ready to confront her demons. To right her wrongs. A woman who knew she could not run away any longer.

  The first thing she knew she had to do was figure out her feelings for Nick. If she ever saw him again – when she saw him again, she corrected – she would need to address it, because he did not deserve to risk his life for someone who did not love him back.

  Because she did not love him.

  Perhaps the books she read in her time with James were filling her head with unreachable expectations, but the feelings she felt for him were akin to those she felt for John and Michael Darling, her friend Wendy’s brothers. She felt the same way for Charlie. Perhaps she could fall in love with him, but it was not love yet, and she refused to force herself to feel a certain way just to appease someone else. Even if that someone was Nick. It was the sole reason why she had run away from home in the first place.

  The books spoke of this heart fluttering feeling, where the heroine’s stomach was light and it felt as though she were literally walking on air. Every accidental touch of skin, every smile smiled solely for him, the fluttering eyelashes, the rosy pink blush when she caught him looking her way for no other reason but to look at her. The countless hours spent agonizing over what to wear, knowing she will see him at some point during the day. Finding nothing suitable but getting those butterflies in her stomach all the same simply because the anticipation was building and the excitement was flourishing.

  Remy wanted that. She wanted that for herself. And it was not with Nick or Charlie or John or Michael. She was certain that person was out there, but she did not know him yet.

  If you did not love Nick, why risk your life for him? her mother’s voice asked her mind, fluttering through the air in her airy tone. Why surrender your freedom for his? Why do that for someone you do not love?

  Remy knew the answer to that question as well. Duty. Compassion. She cared about Nick fiercely, but after all he had done for her, she knew she needed to repay him in kind, even if he did not ask it of her. Even if he did not want her to do so.

  He did not have to ask her.

  Perhaps the girl she used to be, the one on that ship about to be killed, would not have realized what to do but the woman Remy was becoming, the woman Remy was now, did. And that made all the difference.

  If she had been this woman before she was transported here to The Neverland, there was a good chance she would not have run away. She would have stayed with her parents and married Lord Stybolt Huntington because he was a decent man, a good man, who would most certainly care about her and secure her and her family’s future.

  Looking back on it now, Remy realized she had been lucky. Her parents’ selection of Lord Huntington was a good choice in a husband. He cared about her, he had a good title, and more than all of that, he was a good man. He was older, yes, but he was still handsome for his age. He would have made a worthy husband when other girls her age were forced to marry widows or trolls.

  She and Lord Huntington would not share passion, but Remy realized a type of love could have blossomed between them, if only she gave it a chance.

  However, she wanted passion. She wanted fights and kissing and insanity. She wanted it all. And now that she was free without that obligation an
y longer, she would settle for nothing less than what she wanted and what she felt she deserved.

  Her mind flashed back to the moment James reprimanded her for attempting to fight that man who had attacked her. She supposed it was rather silly of her, now that she had a moment of clarity. There was no way she could stand a chance against him. No way at all. If Magda were here, she had no doubt she would be able to take care of herself. She would not have needed James to step in and take care of it. Magda would be able to take care of herself.

  “That’s it, Remy,” she murmured to herself.

  She sprung up from her cot and threw her hair into a sloppy ponytail. It was the first time she did not care what she looked like. Once that was taken care of, she walked to Magda’s wardrobe and pulled out a tunic and pantaloons. Magda had plenty of these clothes in her wardrobe, and as Remy slipped them on, she realized they fit like a dream. It would appear the petite woman preferred loose clothes, and as such, they molded to Remy’s body perfectly.

  When she was finished, Remy headed out the door and over to James’s quarters. She had an innate sense of confidence about her, and her nerves were giddy at the prospect of what she was about to do. Remy did not hesitate. With her fingers coiled into fists, she all but stomped toward James’s room.