Pan's Revenge

by Anna Katmore

  “What? Oh, yeah, sure.” At the same moment, I pivot to find those haunting eyes again. They’re gone. Spinning on the spot, an uncomfortable feeling nestles in my stomach. Did I just imagine it? What if this dangerous pirate who apparently wants to kidnap me has somehow found me at my school dance?

  “I’m sorry, Mel,” I tell my friend, bouncing uneasily on the balls of my feet. “Can we talk about this later? I really need to get back to my friend over there.” I point at the table behind me—and stiffen. Peter is no longer sitting with the others. His chair is shoved back as if he rose in a hurry, his bottle of Red Bull still standing on the table.

  “Sure, see you then,” I hear Melissa say, but I don’t pay her any attention. I need to find Peter. If he left the table, there’s no doubt, Captain Hook is here.

  With a heartbeat matching the rhythm of the band on stage, I scan the room. Where the heck is Peter? He was supposed to take care of me. Wasn’t that the whole deal with me bringing him here as my date? To have a bodyguard? And here I am, alone. With a pirate on the loose.

  Don’t panic, I tell myself. I’m in a gym where people stay packed together like sardines in a can. No one would be so stupid as to try and kidnap someone from here. Or so I hope.

  Slowly, I wander from one end to the other, sweeping the room with terrified glances. Gone is the longing feeling I had after those intense dreams of last night. It’s completely sucked out of me. All there’s left is a slight tremor of my bones.

  Someone says my name—quite close. And so seductively, it makes the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. I whirl about. My mouth’s dry and my stomach is churning, but there’s no familiar face behind me. Obviously mistaken, a relieved sigh leaves me. I turn front again.

  And freeze.

  “Jamie.” The word escapes me in a whisper.

  “Angel,” he replies.

  As my eyes dart from left to right, searching for the best way out, he takes a step closer. Breaking into my personal space so easily, he gives me half a smile. I try to back away, but he takes my hands and pulls me against him, slowly, gently.

  “What do you want from me?” I croak, somewhat short of air.

  Leaning down to my ear, he drawls, “We have unfinished business.” His hands slide up my arms to linger on my shoulders. The touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin. “If I remember it right, you promised me a kiss last night.”

  Breathing in the adventurous scent of the sea mingled with tangerine brings back the horde of butterflies that I bred in my stomach last night. “Things have changed,” I answer, sounding anything but confident.

  He inches back and lets a killer smirk loose at me. “Have they now?”

  I try to hold his intense gaze, but all I see is a face to die for. At long last, I manage a nod.

  “I see. No kiss then.” I almost crack a smile at the boyish pout on his face. The silken hair falling over his forehead now partly covers his right eye. “Maybe you agree to a dance instead?”

  And I say it again: Where the heck is Peter? He’s supposed to save me from an ambush like this.

  My heart clips an unhealthy beat as Hook slowly moves me backward into the middle of the dancing crowd. Both my hands still in his, he brings them up to his neck. His warm skin so tempting to touch works like glue on fingers.

  Caught in the spell of his deep blue eyes, the thought of escape loses priority.

  He’s not wearing the black hoodie tonight. But to my total astonishment, white suits him even better than black. The button up shirt he wears hangs over his dark skate pants and makes him almost blend in with the casual wear of the majority of the male crowd. The only thing he’s missing is a tie loosely wrapped around his neck, but with the wild, predatory look of his, I can’t see that happening.

  Do you know these moments when you look at someone and, within seconds, everything around you fades? When the up-beat music you heard only seconds ago miraculously turns into something soft and sweet? When your knees buckle and your heart wants to give out for no obvious reason? Well, this is what happens to me right now. Only there’s no chance for me to fall with James Hook’s arms enveloping me like my personal safety lines.

  He starts to sway me to the music. “Someone’s tense. Do I make you nervous?”

  That would be the understatement of the century.

  “Why are you scared of me, Angel?” he whispers, his face closer to mine now.

  “Because you’re a pirate.”

  “Says the boy who almost killed me last night when he shoved me off your balcony?”

  “Says Peter Pan.”

  That makes Hook chuckle, only I can’t tell if it’s wry or amused. “So am I to believe that he told you everything else about Neverland, too? And you believe it now?”

  Steeling my nerves with renewed determination, I challenge him with a look. “He told me that you’re after me to get to him.”

  “Oh, he’s right. I’m definitely after you, Angel.” Hook dips his head just a little and nuzzled the side of my face.

  Jeez, how can something so wrong feel so right?

  “But why would I want to get to him?” he asks with just that bit confusion in his voice that makes me pull back and search his face.

  “Because he has a treasure that you obviously want,” I snap, as if he really needed that bit of information.

  A second ticks away before he speaks again. This time with leashed annoyance. “Is that so?”

  I don’t know what to make of it. “Are you telling me it was a lie?” Not that I would believe Hook, if he said so.

  “Aye.”

  Like I said, I don’t believe him. But that doesn’t stop me from asking, “Why are you really here then?”

  The hard muscles in his jaw soften and he strokes the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “I already told you last night. I’m here because of you.”

  “What am I to you, that you felt the need to leave Neverland for me?” Gosh, am I really having this conversation? Somehow I get the feeling I read this book one too many times to my sisters. It must have gotten to my head. But then I remember how Peter carried me over London in his arms the previous night, and all doubt is blown away.

  “You’re everything to me,” Hook answers. His tender voice dares me to believe him. But I can’t. He’s the mean guy. The pirate everyone fears. So why don’t I? No way in hell should I be dancing with him and enjoy his touch so much. “Come outside with me, Angel, and I will tell you everything you need to know.”

  What did he just say?

  He wants to seduce you onto his ship. So he can steal you back to Neverland, Peter’s words ring in my ears. Like under shock therapy, my common sense awakens. I yank myself free from Hook’s embrace. “You’re a pirate. You are the liar, not Peter,” I hiss. “I’ll go nowhere with you. Forget it! And now you better leave or I’ll scream murder in this room pointing a finger at you.”

  For an immeasurable moment, he just stares at me as though he’s gauging how much of it I really meant. Then one of his eyebrows arches up in a challenging way. Just when I’m sure, I lost this battle and really have to scream, he takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, breathing a kiss onto the back. “Until we meet again, Angel.”

  Then he turns and leaves the ball.

  I take a minute to catch my breath. And when that isn’t enough, I take another. Finally feeling steady enough to carry my own weight, however little gracefully, I stumble back to the table my friends occupy. My hands find solid support on the backrest of Peter’s vacated chair.

  “Angel, what’s the matter with you?” Carla Norris asks, shooting a worried glance my way. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Make that a pirate,” I mumble, knowing no one heard that. “I’m coming down with a migraine.” Lame excuse, all right, but what better thing was there to say? “Do you guys know where Peter went?”

  “Said he saw a few friends of his and that he will be gone for a while,” Sebastian explains.

&nb
sp; Great. Just great. “I think I’ll call my dad and ask him to pick me up. When Peter comes back, can you tell him I went home?”

  “Sure. But there’s no way you’re calling your dad out for a ride home,” says Shawn Chennings, stands up and rakes a hand though his straight brown hair. “I can take you.”

  Shawn has been hitting on me for the past couple years, but since he lives just down my street and I’ve sort of known him my entire life, I can’t see us being anything other than friends. He knows it, and that’s the only reason I’m giving in to his offer now. Well, that and the fact that I want to get home as fast as possible without running into James Hook again. He’s a totally different case in matters of rejecting a kiss.

  In Shawn’s car, rubbing my forehead at my pretend headache saves me from any conversation. He just concentrates on the road. Then again, not all of the migraine is pretended. He lets me out in front of my house and says, “See you at school on Monday.”

  I nod, secretly thinking only if I happen to keep out of Hook’s way until then. Inwardly, I kick myself for that thought, because it adds a shiver to the chill that the night already gives me. My gaze is all over the place as I head up to our door. Damn, if meeting a fairytale figure comes with these creepy feelings, I take back all the times I wished myself into the story of Snow White or even to Middle Earth.

  Luckily, nothing happens on the way through our front garden. Pushing out an audible sigh of relief, I let myself in. The house is silent. Mom and Dad must have gone to bed early. They sure didn’t expect me back until thirty seconds before curfew, which would have been at two o’clock in the morning on weekends. According to the grandfather clock in our living room it’s barely midnight.

  I hit the shower, dress in my comfy short black sweats and a white tank top and head to my room, turning on the light. There’s no need to worry. I’m safe inside, I tell myself. And once Peter hears that I’ve gone home, he’ll come here and protect me like he promised.

  As if on clue, there’s a tap on the French door. My bed can wait for another short while. I need to talk to Peter first. I rush to the French door and pull it open. But Peter isn’t outside. In fact, no one is. There’s just a single gold coin lying on the ground.

  The moment I pick it up, another coin is being tossed on my balcony. They look weird, heavy and not smoothly round. There’s an island on one side of the coin, and a digit on the other. The word Doubloon is imprinted in a circle along the edge.

  “Peter?” I whisper, scanning the back of the garden where the second piece of gold came flying from. “Is that you?”

  “Come out,” he hisses back. “We need to talk.”

  Scratching my head, I wonder why he doesn’t just fly over here and we talk inside. Then it dawns on me that it has something to do with what happened at the dance. Maybe he feels bad for leaving me alone and is now shy to come up here.

  Silent like a mouse, I tiptoe downstairs and slip out through the back door. The grass is cool, but not yet cold. Too much sunshine for that today. Keeping close to the house for safety, I whisper Peter’s name again into the darkness. This time he doesn’t reply, but from above another gold coin lands in front of my bare feet. I pick it up, when another one drops a few feet ahead. And then another ahead of that one. It’s almost like he’s leading me away from the house with those coins. What kind of game is he playing?

  Then again, with Peter out here, I should be safe enough, so I take a deep breath before I follow the trail of coins.

  With a small heap of treasure in my hands, I reach the back of our garden, standing inside a triangle of aged oaks, lifting my gaze to the sky. Everything is silent for a minute. I think even the wind holds its breath. Then suddenly, a gentle rain of gold falls.

  Coin after coin drops from above and lands in the long grass that caresses my feet. Every time one lands on top of the other, a quiet chime sounds. More and more of the treasure rains down on me, turning into a romantic melody of gold clinking against gold.

  I cannot describe the beauty that I find myself in the center of, but with my hands raised up and my face tilted skyward, I smile as I dance in the mysterious rain. Whether it comes from the sky, the clouds, or from the top of the trees—I can’t tell. But soon the ground fills up with gold shining in the moonlight.

  If this is Peter’s way to make up for leaving me at the ball, he sure just broke back into my heart. All the way…

  At a rustle in the treetops, I shift my gaze then turn around. Anticipation washes over me like the drizzle of gold before. “Come down, Peter,” I whisper. “You’re forgiven.”

  In front of me, he drops from what seems to be the highest branch of the tree and lands in a crouch, bracing his hands on the gold covered ground. The first thing I notice is his fair hair—not brown. Then the white shirt. And when Hook finally lifts his chin to look into my eyes, I freeze.

  Chapter 9

  AT THE SHOCK in Angel’s eyes, she sure didn’t expect me here, and there’s only so much a girl can take, I guess. I decide to take it slow with her this time. She’s a hairbreadth away from screaming her head off.

  “Hook.” The name is a whisper on her lips—an insult. I hate that she doesn’t call me Jamie tonight. Peter has taken that last bit of happiness away from me too. All I want to do is skewer him for it, but now is not the time to plot his death.

  With a little more coordination in my movements than last time we met, I rise from the ground. There’s no way I’ll let Angel out of my sight and I think that’s the one thing that keeps her contained and from shrieking.

  I don’t know if it’s safe to walk toward her yet…safe for her and for me, too, because as my eyes roam the length of her body, the ravenous pirate inside me struggles to get free. She’s barely wearing anything, short pants and a strange top unsuitable for a young woman, but these are for sure the most alluring clothes I’ve seen her in yet.

  “What are you doing here?” Angel hisses at me, her body rigid.

  That’s better than screaming for help I guess and lift my shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  Her beautiful ebony hair falls forward as she lowers her chin and forces a frown on me. “Did you do this?” she snaps and, with her arms, she weakly gestures around her. “The gold, the treasure? Did you throw all that down on me?”

  It escapes me how she’s doing this all the time. Look at me in a certain way or say something, and totally send the pirate in me running. “You looked happier about it a couple of minutes ago,” I answer in a small voice.

  “That was because I thought Peter did it. You tricked me out here. Why?”

  My tiny step forward scares her back a couple of big ones, so I stop again and take a deep breath, placating her with my hands lifted. “To prove something to you.” It’s obvious that all the lies Peter told her about me had taken hold. She lost the trust in me that I’d worked so hard to earn when she’d been with me on the Jolly Roger. “Peter told you I wanted to use you to get to him and so to the treasure. Right?” At least that’s what she accused me of at the ball earlier.

  She chews my words over for a moment, obviously not understanding where I want to go with this.

  “Well, here it is,” I say and swipe my arms sideways, pointing out that we’re standing right in the middle of my treasure. “Or part of it. The rest is still on my ship, but I thought it’s enough to convince you there’s no need for me to use you for anything. I do have my gold.” After a pause, my voice drops a notch. “What I don’t have is you, Angel. And it’s been killing me ever since you left me.”

  “I left you?” Angel laughs but it sounds more outraged than amused. “How could I have left you? When I was in Neverland I was”—her brows knit together and there’s uncertainty in her voice now—“with Peter?”

  “Is that what he told you? That you were together like a couple?”

  A reluctant nod from her gives me hope that she’s at least considering what I’m going to tell her next. “Pete
r was a boy when you were in Neverland. About three years younger than you are.” The gold clings under my feet as I dare take another small step toward her. “Does falling in love with him that young really make sense to you?”

  The doubt in her eyes now is genuine. She shakes her head. “But none of all this makes sense to me. And Peter isn’t a boy. He must be at least twenty, not fifteen like you say.”

  “He looks twenty now.” I let go of a sigh that’s rather painful. “And that is my fault. Peter Pan was the boy who wouldn’t grow up. I tried to catch him for a hundred years and then some, because he stole my treasure. I probably would have killed him too, if I got a chance.” Abandoning the new edge to my voice, I continue, “But when you came to Neverland, weird things happened. To him, to me…to us.” At the last word, I tilt my head and give her what I hope is a convincing and maybe seductive look, pointing out the space between us. “Spending time with you was the best thing that happened to me in a long time.” A really long time. Now I wonder how I could live all these years and not go insane. “But in the end we had to find a way to bring you back to London. So you could be with your family again. It was the first time Peter and I worked on something together. And it was”—I grimace—“nice.”

  Angel is silent for a long moment. Damn, I hate it when I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of hers. Finally, she shifts her mouth to one side. “Last night, you said you were brothers?”

  Blow me down! There it is, that typical sweet lift of her chin when her true spirit comes out to play. A shiver of joy zaps through me. I can barely hold back a smirk. “Aye.”

  “And you buried the hatchet?”

  “We did. For your sake. You did this to us.”

  The shimmer of trust that was on the rise before disappears completely now. “Why are you lying to me, Hook? Peter hates you with all his heart. Why else would he warn me to stay away from you?” Her breath freezes in her lungs as though she’s only now realizing something terrible. Her voice is cold next, and very low. “Where is he Peter? What did you do to him at the ball?”