by Dee Garcia
My throat bounces again. “He didn’t, though. He looked bigger, stronger, older, or at least I thought he did.”
“That makes no sense, none whatsoever! You’ve aged as normal, he didn’t. How could you not notice the difference between the two of you?”
“I swear to you he didn’t look like the same early-twenties Peter,” I stress, hoping like hell she’ll hear the sincerity in my tone. “Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me? I mean, it was a shock to see him. It had been so long and while I’d always had hope he was alive, I’d accepted the fact he’d been killed. I grieved him, for so long I grieved the loss of him, and then I finally moved on, so when he resurfaced—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Tinksley snaps. “Tell the truth, Wendy!”
“Tinksley, please—I swear to you on my piece of shit mother, I didn’t know anything about you or this place. Didn’t know anything that happened between the two of you! Peter told me he broke free from his captors and I believed him seeing as that was the story that circulated after his mother’s death. It was all speculation, of course, no one really knew what had happened to him but—”
“You’re rambling. Rambling is a sense of weakness, of guilt. I may be younger than you in your world, but I’m not stupid,” she grits.
Eyes narrowing.
Doing that flashing thing again.
I glance at Hook but he’s seemingly unaffected. He’s not even looking at me. His stare is firmly trained on his female.
My attention flicks back to her, too. She’s beyond frustrated, teetering right above contained ire.
Fight or flight has me wanting to back into the wall, to get away from her, but I’m already there, on the ground.
Chained.
And still very much naked.
“I-I don’t know what else you want me to say, in what language I can get you to understand. I didn’t know.”
“You’re lying!” She lurches for me until I’m curled into a ball, face tucked between my knees, my arms acting as a shield.
“Why would I lie about this?” I yell fearfully. “Had I known who you were, don’t you think I would’ve reacted differently to seeing you storm into my bedroom? He played me just like he did you!”
All goes silent then, even the raging vibe carrying through the room plummets to nothing. Curiosity bests me in seconds and I pick my head up, enough that I can see her from the corner of my eyes.
Her dark head is tilted toward the ceiling as if she’s listening for something. A cut of my gaze to Hook reveals him in the same state until finally he says, “It’s your mum.”
Tinksley nods, the murderous tinge to her expression gone. “I know. Go,” she motions for the stairwell, “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
The Captain tosses her a nod of his own and is out of sight faster than my brain can process. Is that what she meant last night when she said it would be so much easier if she could flash us up here?
Is that what that is? Flashing?
“You’re lucky my mother is up there and that her spiraling depression takes precedence over questioning you.” The severe tone of her mutter forces my eyes on her. “I can assure you this conversation isn’t finished, though, so start thinking about how you plan to respond when I come back. I’m not playing this game with you, Wendy. I killed our beloved Peter without the bat of a lash. Don’t for one second think I won’t do the same to you.”
♫ Soldier - Fleurie ♫
Let me start off by saying that I love my sister. I’d kill for her if it came down to it. But right now, as she drags me across the island to Hook’s Cascade, I want to kill her.
Have to remind myself of how much she means to me before I do something utterly stupid.
“Can you perhaps not act like such a drag the whole time?” she asks, grumbling under her breath.
I love my sister.
I love my sister.
I fucking love my sister.
“I told both you and Pa I didn’t want to go, and yet here I am, walking right into the leech’s den.” I adjust my bow tie for the fifty-millionth time. “So excuse me if I seem more unenthusiastic than the norm.”
“Considering that I’m alive and free, you really need to let that go, big bro.”
“I will never let that go. Ever.” The snip in my tone is purposeful. “Yes, he didn’t intend to take you until your dumb ass suggested it, but the point is, he still took you. Locked you up in his castle like a prisoner.”
Tigerlily groans, throwing her head back in frustration. “Do you ever listen? He didn’t lock me up. I had a room, was fed three meals per day, allowed to go anywhere I wanted within the castle grounds. And for the record, you’re-fucking-welcome, because I guarantee if I hadn’t stepped up in your place, you would have been a prisoner, probably wasting away in the dungeon. Or worse.”
Of all the things she said, one thing sticks out at me most. Just one. “He seriously has a dungeon?” I’m incredulous, the hairs at the nape of my neck rigid at attention.
Another groan, followed by a frustrated sigh as she rakes a hand through her long hair. “No, Tavi! I was just using it as an example since you wanted to assume I was trapped in some dark tower like the maiden of Canterbury.”
“I mean, can you blame me?” I huff. “What did you expect for us to assume?”
“Nothing, because you shouldn’t be assuming!” The echo of her shrill cry ripples through the forest. “Dad knows Hook, so the fact that he was feeding into your assumptions boggles my mind.”
“One more time—can you blame him, Lil? It doesn’t matter if he knows the douche or not; Hook still took you away from us without care.”
“And I got to leave, unscathed I should add. I wasn’t even gone that long.”
“Three months is a quarter of a year. I hate to break it to you, but that’s plenty long.”
Tigerlily rolls her eyes and scoffs on a new stride. “Just let it go, seriously. I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah, except you’re dragging me to this stupid party.” My reply draws another irritated growl from her throat.
“For the love of God, Tavi, please don’t do anything stupid,” she hisses, straightening out the skin-tight plum dress clinging to her figure as I go in on this damned bow tie again.
I still can’t believe our father allowed her to leave in such an exhibited state.
Believe me, I tried voicing my opinion on her choice of attire for the evening, but all he had to do was give me that look, and I was snapping my jaw shut. I don’t get much of a say about anything these days, a fact I know damn well is my own fault.
But c’mon, she’s half naked, exposing far more than he’d ever have let our mother show off. How is he okay with this?
“Did you hear me?” she yanks on my arm, jerking us to a stop. When I glance down at her, she’s glaring at me, dark brows furrowed indignantly.
Sighing, I roll my eyes and nod. “Yes, mom, I heard you.”
She slams a fist into my bicep, all but growling at me before taking off. “I wouldn’t have to ‘mom’ you if you acted right.”
“Well, perhaps I’d act right if Hook didn’t—”
“He’s not a bad person!” she snaps, stopping short once more. “Not as bad as you and most of Rosewood make him out to be. Yes, some of his choices are questionable, but no one is perfect. Besides, he’s done a hell of a lot better job ruling these lands than our ancestors did, that’s for sure!”
My mouth falls slack at the fire blazing in her ludicrous declaration. How dare she spout such drivel? “What in the actual fuck did he do to you?” I seethe incredulously.
How can she for one second think that he’s...
That’s when it hits me, harder than a moribund tree falling in the woods. Her newfound loyalty to their kind, those despicable bloodsuckers, must stem from one thing and one thing only...
“Did he… Did he fuck you?”
Tigerlily’s face contorts with disgust in nothin
g more than a single blink. “Ew, NO. What is wrong with you, Tavi?!”
“No? Then why the sudden allegiance and understanding for their kind? You were never like this before,” I counter, stalking up to her in a rush, shoulders squaring as I drop my gaze.
Not that she so much as flinches. She’s unfazed as always. I don’t know why I bother, honestly. Why I think she’ll react to any form of intimidation. Being raised by our father and uncles, my sister has layers upon layers of thick skin.
More than any woman I’ve ever met. Aside from our mother, of course.
“Because being in there,” she motions to the castle behind her, “taught me there’s more to immortals than meets the eye, more than you think, dearest brother.”
As if that was supposed to change my mind.
“I don’t care if the sun shines out of their—”
“Are you done?” she growls. “We’re going to be late.”
No, I’m not, but I don’t tell her that. She doesn’t give me the chance anyway. Once again, she storms off without a glance back, leaving me at the very entrance of Hook’s palace.
I’d say I wonder who she gets her temper from, but I’m not one to talk. We’re both as fiery and stubborn as mama was.
“Tigerlily, wait!” I hustle behind her, sweating bullets in this damned tuxedo jacket.
My sister stops long enough for me to catch up, lifting her chin as we follow the stoned path. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she repeats, eyeing me from her peripheral.
Adjusting the now too tight bow wringing my neck, I tip my head surely. “I’ve got this, lil’ sis.”
“Sure about that? It’s a full moon tonight.”
“You know that doesn’t affect when I shift.”
“But it affects your temperament. You’re irrational and impulsive during this phase.”
“Have you been studying me?” I chortle, jokingly I should add.
Her response, however, is anything but. “I’ve studied you since I was old enough to understand what gifts you possess. This shouldn’t be news to you.”
It’s not, really. Tigerlily has always been curious and analytical, since we were kids. While I wanted to roam the forest, widdle spears, and prove myself to my father, my sister would spend hours reading or simply watching our people bustle about. She knew everything about everyone.
“So in what phase am I the calmest?” Another joke, because me, calm?
Perhaps in another lifetime.
“Waning,” she replies, surprising me in the process. “I wouldn’t venture to say calm is the right word, but you’re definitely easier to handle then.”
Our conversation comes to a halt as we round the side of the palace to the back where the festivities are being held in the lush garden. Bach fills the air, sounds of laughter and chatter ringing out amongst the serene tune. Champagne, hor d'oeuvres—it’s a celebration at its finest.
What exactly are we celebrating, you ask?
Peter Pan’s death.
Word throughout town is Hook and the little Tinksley Bell crossed the portal with the intent to end him.
The boy’s demise doesn’t surprise me. I always knew our land would find a way to rid itself of his unwelcome presence.
I’m more surprised it was, not only Tinksley who wielded the blade, but that’s she’s chosen to hang on the Captain’s arm.
Then again, from where I stand, it doesn’t appear she’s the same girl anymore.
She’s one of them now.
“Come on, let’s go say hello,” my sister insists, looping her arm through mine.
We do, exchanging pleasantries with anyone who stops us. Naturally, they all ask for our father, in which we assure them he’ll be on his way soon.
Somewhere along the way, a champagne flute finds its way into my hand. I’m sipping the bubbly, taking in the ornate decor of whites, golds, and lavish flower arrangements while Tigerlily converses with a few of the townspeople, when I hear it...
Fuzzy.
Distant.
But the sound meets my ears no less, my head snapping in the direction of Hook’s castle.
Pulling my sister abruptly from the conversation, I ask her, “Do you hear that?”
Tigerlily arches a brow and quickly apologizes on my behalf. “What are you talking about?”
“You seriously don’t hear it?”
“Hear what, Tavi?”
Of course she can’t hear it. My sister isn’t like me. What gets me is that no one else—even those who probably can pick up on it—seem to hear it, either.
That or they’re choosing to ignore it. I can’t, though. The more I focus, the clearer it becomes...
Chains.
Chains clanking.
Chains clanking desperately.
And a woman’s nearly hoarse voice screeching, “SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE!”
That was over twenty minutes ago. Now, I’m being dragged, yet again, towards the owner of this place. And the screams haven’t let up, either. They come every couple minutes or so, and each time, it seems as though I’m the only one who can hear them.
“Didn’t think I’d see you back here so soon.” The deep baritone of his voice raises my hackles more than they already are.
I turn in time to see him engulfing my sister in a hug, an action that curls my lip in a snarl.
Don’t fucking touch her, leech.
“I told you I’d be back,” she chuckles. “I’ll admit, I miss the food.”
Hook laughs quietly at her reply as they pull away from one another. “You’re welcome to come indulge whenever.”
And then he looks at me, one corner of his mouth tilting in this cocky ass smirk.
Nasty bloodsucking motherfucker.
“Tavi.” He extends a hand in offering, chin lifting assertively.
My gaze cuts down to it, but I don’t take that shit, snapping my focus back on his face, a grim line hardening my lips.
His brow quips, almost as if he’s slightly impressed, palm retracting smoothly into his pocket. “Oookay. Anyway”—he turns back to my sister—“How have you been?”
“Honestly? Bored out of my mind. You have millions of books in comparison to my little bookshelf. Not to mention, the Woodlands are pretty—”
“HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY, HELP!”
Another round of those terrorized screams sucks my attention away from their conversation. I don’t move an inch, appearing as though I’m listening to every word they’re exchanging, when really I’m honing in on that sound.
Whoever it is, she really is terrorized, leading me to wonder what he’s done to her.
Who is she? Where is she to be exact?
“Right, Tavi?”
The sound of my name brings me back. “Huh, what?” I shake the plethora of questions from my mind.
Tigerlily shoots me a subtle glare, forcing a smile. “I was telling the Captain that you might have another wolf joining the pack. A female.”
Goddamn her big ass mouth.
“Oh, yeah. There’s a chance, but we won’t know for another few weeks,” I answer curtly.
“Interesting,” Hook muses, taking a sip from his flute. “I’ve not come across a female shifter in all my years.”
“Mhmmm.” That’s all I return, draining what remains in my glass.
If I didn’t want to shake his hand, why the fuck would he assume I’m going to engage in any sort of conversation with him? I’m not one to make small talk anyway.
I hate that shit.
“PLEASE, HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY!”
I nearly shatter the flute in my grip this time, gritting down on my jaw as the sound latches onto my eardrums like an eagle’s talons. Hook and everyone else around me remain unaffected, carrying on with their conversations as if that piercing scream isn’t breaching the soundwaves above the serene instrumentals.
There’s no way these other leeches don’t hear it, there’s just no way. They’re flat-out ignoring it, which only makes the circumstances
that more paramount.
I have to find her.
The thought hits me before I can so much as process my next move.
“Do you have a washroom?” I ask Hook directly, passing my sister the now-emptied glass.
“Of course. Go right through those French doors over there and make a left. There’s a powder room beneath the staircase.”
I tip my head. You know, seemingly gracious and all that. “Thank you.”
“Tavi,” my sister warns, nearly grating it out. The look in her widened brown eyes tells me she knows I’m about to go do something I should not be doing.
Sorry, lil’ sis. Duty calls.
“I’ll be right back,” I assure her with a soft smile, keeping my tone even.
Then I’m off, striding through the masses at a steady pace. The situation may be dire, but even a hint that I’ve caught on will blow my cover.
And we all know he’s watching my every fucking move.
Hook’s palace looks exactly how I’d imagined it. Dark paneling, crimson rugs running the expanse of the wooden floors, gold details and accents highlighting everything. I make the left he directed, only at a slower pace, biding my time, listening. I’ve just found the bathroom he mentioned when finally I hear it again.
Please. Help me. Someone help—all the same cries, only hoarser, somewhat softer. They’re coming from somewhere behind me, not too far away, either, based on range.
With a quick eye, I scan my surroundings, ensuring I’m still alone. There’s no one down either end of the corridor, springing me into action. Careful steps led by frustrated sobs take me back the way I came.
I round the corner on a left and fly past the doors, hoping like hell Hook didn’t catch remnants of my shadow as I crossed.
C’mon, woman—scream for me again, I think to myself.
And seconds later, she does.
“PLEASEEE…” She’s exhausted, but still going, probably because she can hear the festivities taking place.
I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to get her out of here, but I’ll figure that out once I finally find her.
Following her screams, I start down the opposite hallway, passing one, two, three…No, three’s the winner. Her sobs echo from behind that door, somewhere beneath my feet it seems.
