Emily crossed her arms. “Try anyway.”
James pressed his lips together as he stared at the stubborn woman. What could he do to placate her? Money wasn’t going to do it. Apparently, all her good will and trust had run out a while ago, and Mercy would hate him forever if he knocked Emily out cold. That didn’t leave him many options.
Before he could think of a new plan, Fenrir stepped forward.
“Your friend has been marked for death by a high-ranking guard in King Oberon’s inner circle. We’ve been doing our best to protect her, but the wyvern magic that’s seeped into her blood is slowly burning her to death.”
The room went dead quiet as Emily stared at the wolf with wide eyes.
“Give me my damn phone,” she said, stretching out her hand. “I’m not just calling an ambulance anymore. I’m calling the cops.”
James didn’t move an inch. “I told you the truth was hard to swallow.”
Emily dismissed him with a wave. She started over to Mercy instead.
“Listen, I’ll be the first to admit that these guys are ridiculously hot,” Emily said, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I don’t know what kind of crazy role playing world these guys have dragged you into, but I’m telling you, whatever is going on, it’s not worth it.”
James’ heart clenched in his chest as Mercy tried to push up to a sitting position on the couch…and failed.
“I know how it sounds,” Mercy said, her voice growing more and more tired by the second. “I really do. You have to believe that I’ve done everything I can to keep you out of this.”
“Besides showing up on my doorstep, you mean,” Emily teased.
“That was my idea.” James went to Mercy’s side. He lifted her head up just enough to sit down beneath her, then gently rested her head on his lap. “We needed a safe place for Mercy to rest.”
“Safe from what?” Emily asked, throwing up her hands. “And please know if you say the fairy king from A Midsummer Night’s Dream again, I will kick your ass.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Fenrir crossed his massive arms over his chest.
“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Emily said, sounding confident. “Trust me.”
“So much spirit,” Fenrir mused to no one in particular.
Emily shook her head. “Seriously, does he come with an off switch?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Mercy gave a weak laugh, as the two women shared a smile. “But honestly, Em, I’m going to be fine. I just went a little past my limits tonight.”
“Your limits?” Emily narrowed her eyes. “This all happened because you guys were out partying? That doesn’t sound like you, Mercy.”
“Yeah, well, the last few days I’ve been doing a lot of things I never have before.”
“Okay, at least that makes a sliver of sense,” Emily said with a long sigh. “You know I have no problem with you sleeping off whatever strange mix of Jägermeister and energy drinks convinced you to go along with these two Ren Faire rejects, but come morning you need to explain everything to me.”
“Em—”
“Nuh-uh.” Emily waved her hand, cutting her off. “No more excuses. No more vague texts. Everything. Got it?”
Mercy exhaled, and James felt her whole body relax. They’d been granted a reprieve. A chance to rest and regroup, and the Heavens knew, they needed it.
“Got it,” Mercy said.
Emily nodded, apparently satisfied. She stood up from her perch on the edge of the couch.
“As for you two geniuses,” she said, looking back and forth between him and Fenrir. A tired look crept into her eyes. “Something tells me that you’re not leaving without a fight. Am I right?”
James nodded. That was an understatement. He couldn’t think of a force on Earth strong enough to rip him from Mercy’s side right now.
“Fine,” Emily said with a long sigh. “I’m too damn exhausted to argue anymore. So if you promise to keep quiet, and not bleed on any of my furniture, I guess you can stay too.”
“Thank you,” James said.
“I’m not doing this for you.” She cast him one more glare before crossing the small living room.
“Where are you going?” Fenrir asked.
“To bed,” Emily said.
“I’ll come with you.”
Emily stopped short. The look she shot Fenrir was hard enough to stop a charging goblin battalion. As it was, the wolf didn’t even blink.
“The hell you will,” she said.
“But you’ll need someone by your side to keep you safe,” Fenrir explained. “The thief’s warding stone should have enough power to protect us for the rest of the night, but there’s always a chance Oberon’s magicians might find us.”
“Heaven help me,” Emily said, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. “Don’t worry about me. But just so you know, I always sleep with my hands wrapped around a nice, heavy baseball bat…and I wake up swinging.”
“That’s a wise habit,” Fenrir said with a single nod. “But I’ll still be right outside your door just in case you need me.”
Emily snapped her head toward Mercy. “Honestly, I may never forgive you for bringing this oversized meathead into my home.”
Mercy gave her friend an apologetic smile. “You have no idea just how sorry I am.”
Emily shook her head, mumbling under her breath as she entered her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. The lock clicked softly.
Undeterred, Fenrir dutifully took up his post at her door, settling his massive body in front of the jamb. He propped his arms on bent knees and rested his head against the wooden frame behind him.
A quiet fell over the apartment, and James settled deeper into the couch. He closed his eyes as he stroked Mercy’s hair. She let out a content sigh and nestled her head against his lap. The dark strands slid through his fingers like coiled silk, heavy and soft. The slow, constant rhythm relaxing them both. She looked at him with her wide, brown eyes. Her eyelids fluttered with each stroke of his hand, but never quite closed.
“You kept your promise,” she said, her sleepy voice barely a whisper.
“I did?”
“You said you would beat Flint, and you did.” A weary smile curled the corners of her lips. “You promised me everything would be fine, and it is.”
But it wasn’t. James felt a stab in the dead center of his heart. He was still exiled. Mercy’s life was still in danger. Flint still had them in his sights.
There was no denying the strange sense of serenity that coursed through him. He had no logical reason for it. None except that he was still by Mercy’s side. That, for the moment, they were together and safe. And, right now, that was enough.
“You sound surprised,” he said.
“I am,” she admitted.
“Why?” he asked. “You’ve seen me defeat Flint.”
She raised her hand and cupped her warm palm over his cheek. James leaned into her touch. “But this time you didn’t have to. You knew they wanted me more than you. You could have run, knowing they wouldn’t follow. But you didn’t.”
James shook his head, not understanding. “I would never leave you at the mercy of a monster like Flint.”
“And that’s why I’m proud of you.” Her smile widened, even as her eyes fully closed. “There’s goodness in your heart after all. You did the right thing, James Hook. Not because you had to, but because you wanted to.”
She snuggled closer, wrapping one of her arms around his waist. James continued stroking her hair, feeling the tension seep out of her body bit by bit, until after several minutes she was completely loose in his arms. James drew in a tight breath, wishing he could relax the same way. But he couldn’t.
Not when everything she thought about him was wrong.
He wasn’t the man she thought he was. He wasn’t a selfless protector. He was the reason she was burning alive from the inside out in the first place. He was the reason she was hiding out from creatures who wanted to flay her alive.
He was no hero. He was a villain, plain and simple. Geoffrey knew it. Tonight, Fenrir had seen it. And now James could no longer deny it.
Jumping through the portal with the wyvern scales wasn’t just some noble act to save Mercy’s life. It was also a way for him to escape the terrible truth that rang in his head every time he looked in her beautiful eyes.
He wasn’t good enough for her. He never would be.
His desire to escape this world alone was pure selfishness.
His time in this middle world had made him wish he could be something more, someone better than a conniving, self-centered, greedy thief.
But that’s who he was. Who he would always be, and nothing could ever change that.
Not even Mercy Herrera and the rare seed of peace she’d planted in his heart. Not even the brief blossom of hope it had opened up inside him.
What could a thief like him ever hope for?
Hope for a life that wasn’t steeped in loneliness? Hope that there might be more than his never-ending hunger for more? Hope that someone as beautiful and kind as Mercy might have glimpsed a sliver of something redeemable inside him after all?
Hope was a plague. One that could only bring disappointment.
Still, he hadn’t stopped himself from falling prey to its power.
Because at this moment the only thing he truly hoped was that one day Mercy would love him…the way he loved her.
And that was how he felt. He was sure of it. What else could explain this strange need to keep her close? What else could make him wish he were someone else? Someone better? Someone worthy of her love and pride?
Nothing.
Perhaps there was something worse than hope after all.
Love.
No wonder Titania had used the emotion as a curse. How else could he explain the conflicting storm of peace and longing that battled deep inside his heart? How else could James explain the terrible knowledge that before he’d met Mercy, he had been content with his solitary life, but now he knew he’d never be happy without her?
Chapter Seventeen
Emily’s living room was still dark when Mercy’s eyes cracked open. She stretched her arms over her head and tried to work out the kinks in her back but the simple move was harder than usual. She was propped up at an odd angle, and her head rested against a strangely solid pillow…one that flexed and shifted beneath her.
Mercy opened her eyes wider. In the deep shadows, she could just make out the contours of James’ face looming above her.
Wow. He was still sitting on the couch, and she was still curled up in his lap. She vaguely remembered falling asleep to the rhythmic cadence of his soothing touch against her hair, but she hadn’t thought he’d stay with her until morning. Then again, maybe he hadn’t.
After all, there wasn’t much light filtering in through the curtains covering Emily’s front windows. As far as she knew, it might still be the middle of the night.
But somehow she knew it wasn’t.
Taking care not to disturb James, she gently pulled herself up and looked over at the clock on the cable box under Emily’s television.
Four eighteen.
Not quite dawn, but not night either. She could easily lie back down and steal a few more hours of sleep.
Except she couldn’t.
Now that her eyes were open she was awake. Wide awake.
A strange energy she couldn’t ignore buzzed in her veins. It propelled her off the couch and across the room, over to the window.
Mercy pulled back the curtain, and peered out across the golden glow of streetlights illuminating the early morning fog. She felt a pull deep within her chest. A burning desire to go out there. To walk along the street to the spot where the road met the ocean. To go back to the cliff.
Mercedes Herrera.
Sweat broke out on Mercy’s brow as the broken whisper sounded in her mind.
Hades.
He was calling her. Just like he said he would. Apparently, her three days were up. He was ready to answer.
Too bad calls from the Underworld came with a fifty percent chance of fireworks.
Not that the danger mattered anymore. The need to return to Lands End burned bright inside her, becoming so intense that Mercy didn’t notice someone behind her. She jumped and spun as a hand clasped her shoulder.
“James,” she said with a sigh of relief. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“The sun’s not up yet. Come back to sleep.” He slid his hand down her arm to her fingers.
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
His brow crinkled in concern as he looked down at her hand. “Mercy, you feel warm. You need to rest.”
“No,” she said, urgency pushing the words out. “I have to go.”
“Go?” he asked. “Go where?”
“Back to the labyrinth,” she said. “Hades is calling me.”
James shook his head. “You’re in no condition to talk with him. The wyvern magic has taken too much of a toll. You need more time to recover.”
“I don’t have time.” She tried to pull away. He held on tight.
“Just try to go back to sleep,” he tried. “For a few more hours, at least.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not listening.” Open worry tinged his words. “You’re burning up. If I take you out there you may not live through the conversation.”
Even in the faint glow of the distant streetlights Mercy could tell that her skin was flushed, as though she’d lain out in the sun too long.
Mercedes.
The deep voice rumbled at the very edge of her mind again. It wasn’t strong or particularly loud, but it was more than enough to make her stumble forward. James caught her before she tumbled down to the floor.
“He’s in my head, James,” Mercy said as another wave of heat swept over her. “I can’t make it stop. If I don’t go out to the cliff and talk to him again, I’m afraid that I’ll catch fire right here.”
James looked at her with wide eyes, his gaze swimming with indecision. His hold on her intensified as he glanced toward the front door and back again.
He was afraid, Mercy realized. Truly afraid.
For her.
But strangely, she wasn’t. Not really.
Deep down, she knew she should probably be terrified. She knew the stakes—better than anyone. It wasn’t as if she wanted to die, but now that the moment she had been dreading the last few days was finally here, a strong sense of resolve filled her chest.
She had a job to do. An important job. People were depending on her.
James was depending on her.
She wouldn’t let him down. He’d made her feel so much in a short amount of time, shown her magical wonders she could have never dreamed of. He’d thrilled her. Made her smile. Made her laugh. Made her forget the danger she faced. Reminded her what it was like to be alive.
And she wanted to feel all those things again…with him.
The realization hit her as hard as the pounding in her head. After all her protestations, he’d stolen his way into her heart after all. They might never have a future together—hell, she might not even have another sunrise—but somehow that didn’t matter anymore.
She’d been wrong about him. James wasn’t the bad guy.
Of course, he wasn’t quite the good guy either. Not yet, anyway. But he deserved the chance to see if he could get there.
“I-I don’t know…” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.
Mercy lifted her hand to his cheek. His skin felt cool under her palm.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“You can’t know that.”
“You’re right,” she said honestly. “But I know we don’t have a choice.”
A dark look of resignation filled James’ eyes as he stroked his hand over her sweat-drenched brow one more time. “All right. I’ll call for a car.”
“There’s no time.”
Mercy shook her head. “Emily’s keys are hanging by the door. We’ll take hers.”
“I don’t know how to drive.”
“I do.”
James shot her a skeptical look. “You can barely stand.”
She didn’t have time for his inconvenient logic. “Then it’s a good thing you sit down to drive.” Mercy shuffled toward the door. James followed along, propping her up as she went.
She could do this, she told herself with every step. She had to. There was no other choice.
The positive self talk worked. She made it all the way across Emily’s small living room floor, and was reaching for the keys when a booming voice stopped her cold.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Fenrir.
She’d forgotten all about him. Too bad she didn’t have time to give her whole speech again. It felt like someone had cranked the apartment’s thermostat all the way up. She needed to hit the road.
“Time to talk to Hades,” she said simply.
“Now?” Fenrir asked as he stood.
“Right now.” Mercy snatched the keys off the wall. “Any chance you know how to drive?”
Fenrir shook his head.
That’s what she thought. Still, it was worth a shot.
“Well, you can either come with us, or stay here with Emily,” Mercy said. “The choice is yours.”
Fenrir’s gaze snapped to James. “I’m coming.”
Mercy shrugged. Fine by her. She might not know what the glare was about, but she didn’t ask. She didn’t have the time for one more distraction.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Emily’s bedroom door swung open.
God damn it.
Her friend walked into the living room, her disheveled blonde hair ratted up on the pillow side of her head.
“Nothing,” Mercy tried. “Go back to sleep, Em.”
But it was too late. Emily’s sleepy gaze had already gone straight to the ring of keys dangling from her fingers. “What are you doing with my car keys, Mercy?”
“We’re borrowing your car,” James answered for her.
“The hell you are,” Emily said, her drowsy tone disappearing as she stormed across the room. “What’s wrong with Mercy? Are you taking her to the hospital?”
Hook: Exiles of the Realm Page 19
