The man grabbed Remy’s forearm. “You shouldn’t be here by yourself, poppet,” he said. “Not when I can feel your pulse beating so… loudly. I’ll help you get back to the tavern. Yes I will.”
As he pulled her roughly behind him, a sinking feeling began to accumulate in Remy’s stomach. He was not going to take her back to the Albatross. But where he was taking her, she did not know.
Chapter 13
He led her into a secluded alley.
The sounds of Tenedor now seemed soft and far away. Which meant thast if Remy screamed, no one would hear her.
Why had she not screamed yet, anyways? Remy knew she was frightened, and yet, her entire body froze. As though she could not move. Not even her mouth. Not even her eyes to blink. She did not think she could even breathe.
But she managed to speak. She had to do something, unless she wanted to die here. And since she was not sure if her death led to her returning home, going to her final resting place, or somewhere else entirely, she realized she needed to fight in order to save herself.
“Please,” she managed to say, feeling herself lean back from him in order to make pulling her more difficult. “Please, do not hurt me.”
This caused the man to stop abruptly, to the point where Remy nearly ran into him.
“Hurt you?” came his response. She could not stop herself from staring at his empty mouth. “Why would I want to hurt you, poppet? You’re alive! I can feel it. Which means I can be alive too!”
“What?” Remy asked as the man continued to walk down the dark passageway. Were alleys really this long? “No, I think you misunderstand. I cannot make you alive, not if you are already dead. I am sorry, but I cannot.”
The man chuckled, but it was not the humorous sound that she was normally acquainted. Like Nick, he stopped and threw his head back, but the laughter itself was dark and did not quite match the look on his face. The sight made Remy squirm even more.
“I don’t think so,” he said in that accent she could barely understand. Certainly he had been in The Underworld for a while; why had he not used his time to try and speak better? “I think that you actually can bring me back to life. You’re alive. I’m not. If I take whatever it is inside of you that makes you alive and put it in me, I’ll be the one alive.”
“I am truly sorry,” Remy said, surprising herself because she found that she actually meant it. “But I do not believe that is the way life works. And even if it did, my life will not readily take you back to earth. You would still be stuck down here, just like I am.”
“You’re lying,” he said. He stopped walking once more and through a glare over his shoulder. Remy could make out the end of the alley was near, but she was not sure just what it was that awaited on the other side.
“Tell me, do you really think I would be here otherwise?” Remy snapped. Probably she should not be talking to him this way, but his naïve belief that stealing her life and putting it inside of him in order to bring him back to life sounded absolutely ridiculous. “When I, in fact, have my own life back up on earth, one I actually miss.”
“Stop it,” the man said gruffly. He did not seem as eager, as happy as he had been before, and his grip on Remy only tightened. No doubt that she would bruise. “You’re wrong. You hear me? Wrong. I’ve spoken to her and she said it was possible. I’ve seen her do things that I thought impossible. With those potions. She casts spells. She’s a witch. She said she could bring a person back to life with a life force. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. I can hear your heartbeat. I can hear it. You’re alive. You can give me life.”
Remy flared her nostrils. He had her up against the wall – which was probably filled with crawling insects just waiting to invade her hair – and his head was close to hers, no more than a few centimeters apart. She could smell him. And it was not a pleasant small. Not at all.
“I have no idea who you are referring to, but I am certain she cannot do what you say,” she told him in a firm voice.
“You’re lying,” he repeated. “Stop lying. She told me herself. All she has to do is take the life force from your body and she’ll put it into my body. Then you’ll be dead and I’ll be alive. She’ll slit you down the middle and take out your soul. You won’t have a soul.”
“But you have a soul,” Remy pointed out. With each passing second, she felt her heartbeat speed up even more than she thought was possible. He was raving like a lunatic, and she knew that if he did not calm down soon, he would most likely harm her in some way, whether intentional or not. “You do not need mine.”
“But your soul is full of life,” he spit back. “Mine is not.”
“You will be dead too,” Remy tried. “Dead-dead. Not Underworld-dead. Your soul will be lost forever!”
“Stop it!” he cried. “Stop it! Stop your lies!” Before Remy knew what he was doing, he reached into his pantaloons and whipped out a dagger. “I’m going to start the process. She’d appreciate it. I know she would.”
“Then surely you will not get my soul, you fool!” Remy exclaimed. “Certainly I will be dead!”
Looking back, Remy realized that her choice of diction was probably not the most appropriate if she wanted to save herself because they seemed to make the man more agitated than he already was. She watched as he grit his teeth – those that he had left, anyways – and jabbed his right hand out so the edge of the dagger pierced Remy’s side.
She moaned in surprise, the pain searing into her.
In all honesty, Remy did not think he would actually harm her. He wanted her life, not to kill her. And yet, she could feel her blood stick to the inside of her shirt.
“That ought to keep you quiet,” he said, pulling the dagger back. “Don’t worry. I haven’t taken your – I mean, my – life. Didn’t cut it deep enough. But it’ll hurt, yes it will. You better hope your blood clots too.”
“No, you better hope that, you oaf!” Remy said, trying to control her temper. But really, how could she? Somebody had stabbed her! The blade probably was not properly sanitized so who knew what kind of germs were infesting in her body?
She had never been stabbed before. She had never expected to be stabbed, not even by this raging madman who wanted her life.
“I could get your other side so the scars will match,” he told her. As she looked into his eyes, she knew that he meant what he said.
“This is going to scar?” she asked. Remy had no idea why that was her biggest concern, but it was. How was a man supposed to love her with a big, fat scar on the side of her stomach?
“Oh, shut it,” a familiar voice said in the same drab, almost bored voice. “You should be thankful you’re alive.”
“Who’re you?” the man asked, craning his neck to get a good look at whoever it was that had spoken.
“Doesn’t matter.” Remy heard a sword being slid out of its scabbard and she watched as the moonlight glinted on the blade. “Let her go, or I’ll end your life.”
“You’re going to take her for yourself,” the man said, growling in frustration. “You’re going to take her life. It’s rightfully mine, you know.”
“It is my life, thank you very much,” Remy retorted. Her head was beginning to spin. Now that the stranger was otherwise engaged, she reached up her hand and placed it on her wound. She whimpered; even the smallest bit of pressure elicited pain.
Oh God, she was going to die, was she not? He had pierced her stomach deeper than he intended and she was going to bleed out and her soul would be lost here forever.
“Ooh,” Remy said, leaning back against the wall. If she did not have it behind her, certainly she would fall forward. The dizziness was throwing her balance off.
“Come on,” her rescuer said, reaching out to grab Remy’s wrist. She yelped at the new pressure on her bruised wrist causing the person to drop it quickly. “Well, we can’t just wait here in the alley while he goes off to get some more people, can we?” A pause. “We have to go Remy. Now. Can you walk?”
R
emy pressed her lips together. She blinked rapidly, trying to get a hold of her consciousness. She was not sure if it was the pain or the shock that was taking over her mind, but at that moment, she knew that she needed to leave. She could not wait for medical attention; she needed to get back to the Albatross, back to safety before she could get fixed up.
“Yes,” she managed to get out in a tight vote. “Yes, I can walk.”
She forced herself to stand up, away from the wall. She could not stand up straight, but she could stand and that was perhaps a silver lining.
“I do not know how to get back to the Albatross,” Remy explained in a rush as she followed the person out. “I got lost. I did not mean” –
“Shut it,” the rescuer snapped. Another pause. “Sorry, but it’s better that you don’t speak. I know how to get back.”
When they emerged from the alley, Remy felt as though she could breathe much better. The air was not as clear as she was used to but in her mind, there was more of it, and she took in as many breaths as she could. She was still alive. Real alive and not The Underworld’s version of alive.
“Come on,” the rescuer said, wrapping an arm around Remy’s shoulder in order to give the young girl a place for her to lean on if need be. “We have to go. Especially since it wasn’t only that man that’s interested in you.”
It was true. Remy noticed that every soul out seemed to sense her, and as a result, they all turned and proceeded to head in her direction. Well, most of them did. There were a few that seemed to be grateful for the distraction and proceeded to shout out any and all the items they were selling in hopes to acquire as many customers as they could without competition.
Time must have shifted thanks to Remy’s new wound because it was not long before they were inside. Except now Remy’s vision had small black dots, even after she attempted to blink them away.
“Adele,” Remy murmured as Adele helped her up the stairs. “What’s happening to me, exactly? Am I going to die?”
“Of course you’re not going to die,” Adele said, and though Remy could not see her rescuer, she was certain that Adele was rolling her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.”
“Where are Giselle and Calum?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Adele said, opening the door to what Remy assumed was her room. “I just got here.”
“They are probably wondering where I am,” Remy mumbled. Her words were beginning to slur and she was getting quite tired. “Unless they did not even notice I was gone.”
“Was Nick there or had he left with one of the whores?” Adele asked. Before Remy could respond, she led Remy to the rather small though surprisingly made bed and gently pushed her on it so Remy was in a sitting position. “I need you to lie down, even if it hurts okay? Keep talking to me. We need to keep you conscious.” She turned from the bed and went to go find something.
Remy placed her head on the pillow. She winced at the pain she felt from the wound due to the fact that she was somewhat stretched out, but she bit her lip from crying out. However, with all the focus on her voice she could not stop the tears from accumulating and then eclipsing her cheeks.
Goodness, what had she gotten herself into? How could she have been so stupid as to let herself be led out of the tavern and into the night? She knew nobody. She obviously could not defend herself since her mouth did not count and, if anything, only further agitated her attacker. Not that she would ever in her wildest dreams actually care to live this sort of lifestyle, but Remy realized that she made a horrible pirate. Probably to the point where if she allied herself with them, she would get laughed at. Why would she think that anybody here would want to help her? Except the crew from the Black Star.
“Talk to me, Remy,” Adele snapped. She had opened something Remy could not see and was rummaging around for whatever was supposed to lie inside it.
“But I am tired,” Remy said in a slow voice, her eyes snapping open for only a moment before being drawn back into a close.
“I know.” Adele shut the cabinet drawers, having found it, and returned to Remy’s side. “I know. And you can go to sleep when I’m through.” To herself, she muttered, “Jesus, I forgot the rum.” There was a pause and Remy felt her eyes close once again. This time, she did not feel the dire need to reopen them so soon. “I’ll be right back. For the love of God, don’t fall asleep.”
Remy wanted nothing more than to scold the red head for her continuous use of the Lord’s name, practically in the same sentence, but when she opened her mouth, she found that no words came out and she was too tired to force them out. And she thought she heard Adele leave, although her mind was too hazy for her to recall just when that happened.
Rest. She needed rest.
The pillow was so comfortable, as was the bed. Perhaps she had only slept in a hammock once, but it only took that night to make her appreciate a proper place to sleep. Which was where she was now. Maybe if she moved a bit, could somehow wiggle her way underneath the covers, everything else would be complete…
“Remy!”
The sharpness of her name caused Remy to open her eyes. The pain in her side had faded to a dull throbbing, but it was still present and Remy could most certainly still feel it. She groaned as she heard Adele close the door and place something on the wooden floor adjacent to her side of the bed.
“I know, I know, once this is all over you can sleep for as long as you like,” Adele said in what sounded suspiciously like comforting. “So. Did Nick go upstairs with one of his whores?”
“Yes,” Remy said in a tight voice. She just wanted to close her eyes. That did not sound as though she were asking for too much. “Except he had three. Three whores.”
“Three?” Adele all but yelped. It sounded as though she was going to continue but thought better of it and started fiddling with whatever was in her hand. She was sitting on the wooden floor next to where Remy was, doing something Remy could not see and did not really care to know. “It is highly probably that Giselle noticed your absence. When I saw her downstairs, I told her that you were with me.”
“I thought you did not like me.” This time, the words came pooling out of Remy’s mouth without conscious effort to stop them. “You seemed as though you did not like me.”
Adele was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I’m still not certain if I do like you,” she replied.
Remy seemed to accept this. “How did you know I was there?”
“What?”
“In the alley. With the man.” Her voice got more and more controlled. The throbbing of the injury managed to get in time with her heartbeat. “How did you save me?”
“I can’t explain it,” Adele said in a soft voice. “I could feel you. You are something we souls have never encountered before. You’re alive, literally, to the point where I can almost hear you breathing.” She stopped and reached over Remy, lifting the hem of her shirt so Remy’s stomach was exposed. The young girl hissed when Adele picked the material off of the wound which it had previously been stuck to. “This is going to hurt. If I were you, in order not to arouse suspicion of anyone downstairs or in the rooms next to ours, I’d put a pillow over my face.”
Remy pressed her brows together. Her eyes had fallen closed once more. “Why?”
“You’re going to scream.” Adele waited for Remy to take her advice and then, after a countdown, pressed something on Remy’s wound. Immediately Remy screamed at the burning sensation that took over her nerves. She could not hear Adele try and soothe her, could not hear Adele tell her that she had to clean the wound with rum lest Remy wanted it to get infected.
Remy just wanted for it to be over. She just wanted for it to be finished.
After what felt like too long, Adele lifted the rag off of the side. Despite the flickering candles that lit up the room, darkness prevailed. Remy did not know what Adele was doing now, and quite frankly, she did not care. If anything, it seemed as though the red head was tidying up the injury with another cloth and som
ething cool, perhaps water.
“Can I sleep now?” Remy asked between ragged breaths.
“Yes,” Adele said. “All I need to do now is bandage the wound, but that shouldn’t take long.”
Another silence hung in the air. Remy was halfway to sleep already, but she forced herself to say, “Thank you, Adele.” She inhaled deeply through her nose. “You saved my life. Without you, I’d be dead.” There was a pause. “Might I ask you one – well, two – more favors?”
“Depends on what they are,” Adele said as she began to seal the wound up.
“Promise me you will not tell Nick – or anyone else for that matter – what happened.” Remy was surprised she managed to get that much out, but she did.
“Done,” Adele said. “And the other?”
This time, Remy’s voice was much smaller than she thought it would be. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Instead of inhaling and exhaling, Remy held her breath. She expected Adele to laugh at her request, maybe lecture her on the perils of being a pirate and how Remy had to deal with the consequences of her own idiotic actions.
But all Adele said was, “Of course.”
In mere moments after Adele’s assurance, Remy fell asleep.
Chapter 14
The next day came much too soon.
But, Remy reminded herself, she was alive.
“If you want breakfast, it would behoove you to get up now.” Adele’s voice managed to break through her walls of slumber and bring Remy back to consciousness.
But Adele also made Remy realize just how hungry she was. All she had last night for supper was a couple of slices of bread. Food sounded like the correct solution to her stomach’s problem.
Remy sat up and then yelped. She had completely forgotten about her little brush with death last night, the reason why she and Adele were sharing the same room in the first place.
“Be careful, would you?” Adele asked, rushing over to Remy and pushing her back so Remy was lying down again. “You don’t want to start bleeding again, do you? I don’t want to have to change the bandages until later tonight.” After a thorough expression, Adele gave a curt nod. “You’re all right. But that shirt certainly isn’t.” She stood up straight. “If you’re still adamant about keeping this from Nick” –
Death in Neverland: Book 1 in The Neverland Trilogy (The Neverland Series) Page 13