Remy grabbed her mug and took tentative sips. Around the same time, a couple of whores – one of which had occupied Nick’s time last visit – trotted over to Nick and began paying him too much attention. Nick, though on a mission, leaned back and welcomed the feminine attention. Remy could tell he was still tense, still focusing on the crowd as though he hoped Captain Pan would make his appearance, but surely it was hard to make out particular faces in a crowded place with women occupying his lap?
Remy’s eyes trailed over to Adele and, surprised that she had been looking at her, the two shared a look nothing short of disgust as the display. Remy wondered why Adele did not make some sort of snide remark about Nick’s behavior, as Remy expected her to do, but did not press the issue.
In fact, it was not long before Edward and Calum were both occupied by women of the night, much to the chagrin of Adele and Giselle.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Remy heard the red head mutter.
Even Giselle looked uncomfortable.
“Tell me, ladies,” Nick said with that charm smile. For whatever reason, seeing him use it on one of these women – women Remy did not feel deserved this particular smile – made her stomach curdle. “Have you heard any rumors about Captain Pan being on Tenedor tonight?”
Remy’s mouth dropped open. She thought that looking for Captain Pan was a secret mission. And yet, Nick blatantly asked about the captain’s presence, without even indulging in a bit of small talk beforehand. Did he want to be caught? Did he want their secret to get out?
“Actually, I ‘ave ‘eard ‘e was ‘ere, matter o’ fact.”
The whore on Nick’s lap – the other was rubbing his back – giggled after speaking, but Remy could not tell if it was due to drunken stupor or fake drunken stupor.
It did not matter. Her accent was quite apt at making Remy’s ears bleed.
Chapter 22
Remy was actually considering getting a pint of rum, if only to numb her hearing of these women speaking. Had these women grown up without learning how to speak properly? To pronounce their ‘h’s’ when saying something? It was insanity, and quite frankly, Remy had no idea how Nick, and Calum and Edward for that matter, stood it, because apparently poor speaking ran in the prostitution family.
Her annoyance at the women had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the two occupied with Nick had turned into three and that he was actually enjoying himself – she could because his eyes were lit up and she knew it was not because of the impressive amount of alcohol he had consumed – which did nothing for the churning in her stomach. Though she wanted nothing more than to not pay attention, to not care what was going on before her, she could not help but stare.
It was rude and unladylike and uncomprehending, but she could not help herself.
In fact, she was so consumed with the sight before her that she was startled when someone pulled on Remy’s arm, practically yanking her up from her seat.
“Come on,” Adele said. She nodded her head at Giselle, who was standing next to the red head. “We’re going to look for Captain Issacs, who apparently is somewhere on the island.”
“Or so says the…” Giselle struggled to find the correct word before settling on, “women.”
“Does Nick know?” Remy asked, standing up.
“As long as we’re all together, I highly doubt it’s going to matter much,” Adele said with a graceful shrug of her shoulders. For whatever reason, Remy narrowed her eyes at it. As much as she loved Giselle, Remy had never seen the blonde occupy that much grace in her movement, especially something as blunt as a shrug. Adele frowned when she realized Remy was staring. “Well? You coming?”
Remy did not hesitate. She pushed herself up and hurried over to Adele and Giselle. At the last minute, she craned her neck in order to look behind her, but Nick had not even noticed her departure. It would seem he was too consumed with the women surrounding him to realize the three women that occupied his crew had all but disappeared.
Well.
“And anyways,” Adele shouted over the noise of the crowd as they made their way through the people, “he has his own way of acquiring his information.”
Remy pushed her brow together, unsure of what Adele meant by that. When they left the tavern, Giselle leaned close and explained, “If anyone knows valuable information, it’s pleasurable company. No one takes them seriously and their customers have no problem actually talking about rather important information in front of them.”
“For the right price,” Adele added, “whores will give their own children away.”
Remy was surprised at the revelation, and it took her a moment to let the information to settle. If she had children, there was nothing that could make her give them up. No price. Then again, Remy was beginning to realize that because she came from a drastic different background than these whores, they would have different priorities.
Still. These were children.
“Where are we going?” Remy asked as she followed Adele, whose long legs seemed to reach places Remy’s own could not reach as quickly which had her practically running to keep up.
“I already told you,” Adele said, annoyance in her tone. “To get information.”
“From where?”
“You ask too many questions,” Adele snapped. “How about, instead, you just have some faith, yeah?”
Remy pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything else, and Giselle shot her a warm smile.
The three continued through the two until they reached greenery. Either they could continue on the well-beaten dirt path that curved back to town – a giant circle, it was – or they could teeter off to the less-used road that led into what looked like a forest. Remy wanted to stay on the path; there was light coming from the open facilities, and though people made her uncomfortable with their stares, at least there were people.
But Adele headed to the forest. Subconsciously, Remy reached out and let her fingers brush the hilt of her cutlass, reassuring herself that her weapon was still there. Just in case.
Thankfully, Adele slowed down her stride. Perhaps she was not as familiar with this path as she was in town. Remy tried to make out what was on either side of the path, but darkness encompassed the trail, and besides Adele’s red hair and white tunic, it was hard for Remy to make out anything directly in front of her, let alone on her sides. However, she knew there were tall, thick trees all around them. If it was sunny and hot, shade would be adequately provided.
The deeper they walked through the forest, the more unfamiliar noises began to pierce the dark silence. Every time a twig snapped, Remy jumped. Giselle would giggle and reassure Remy that everything was all right, that they had been there before while Adele would tell Remy to stop being so frightened and had Remy not been in a forest before.
“Why would I ever be in a forest?” Remy asked in a dry voice.
“I don’t know,” Adele replied in the same tone. “Maybe to explore nature, appreciate her, be grateful for what you have. To get away from the world.”
“Ladies,” Giselle said, interrupting the spat she knew would soon break out lest she put a stop to it right now. “We don’t want her to hear us arguing like children, do we?”
“Who’s her?” Remy asked, looking between the two women.
Interestingly enough, Adele kept quiet, refusing to answer Remy’s question and retort something in response to Giselle. Instead, she gritted her teeth and continued to lead them deeper into the forest.
“Do you know how to get back to town?” Remy asked after a moment of silence, when she knew her question of who this mysterious woman they were going to see would be left unanswered. It might have bothered her had the thought that perhaps Adele was lost and just too stubborn to admit it because surely nobody would choose to live in a forest not rooted itself at the forefront of her mind, causing all calm and rationale to momentarily disappear. “I feel like we have passed that tree three times now.”
“How can you possibly
tell the difference between trees when you yourself have admitted that you don’t really visit forests?” Adele drawled.
“No, we’re not lost,” Giselle answered before Remy could comment. “We’re almost there.”
At that moment, Adele abruptly stopped at an opening in the thicket of trees. In fact, the small pocket was completely cleared of trees and bushes and merely had rich, green grass that looked cool to touch and would meld perfectly to bare feet if the weather permitted. Besides the grass, the only other thing there was a small house, built with stone, and a chimney with smoke coming from it. However, the front window was black so unless there were curtains blocking the light inside, it did not appear as though anybody was home.
“Is she expecting us?” Remy whispered, despite the fact that she and her crew mates were certainly alone, too deep in the forest to run into another soul.
“How could she possibly be expecting us when we’ve been at sea for the past five days?” Adele asked.
“And yet,” Giselle said, taking a step forward, toward the small cottage. “Esmeralda seems to expect everybody, whether or not their presence is announced.”
Remy felt herself swallow and she only dared to move after Adele decided to follow Giselle. Her skin was pricked by her hair and she felt her heart pound against her skull. Something about this was not quite right. People did not choose to live in forests, did they? And even more peculiar, this pocket of nothingness looked natural. Remy could not see any evidence of anything else occupying this small bout of land, save for the grass. She might not have visited many forests in her short lifetime, but she knew that random pockets of grass sized perfectly for a small cottage was too particular to be a coincidence.
Right?
She crossed her left hand over her waist until her fingers – which she was ashamed to admit were shaking – wrapped around the handle. Remy wanted to be prepared, just in case a fight broke out. Looking at her two friends, however, proved that they were calm and relaxed, ignoring their own weapons.
Maybe Remy was overthinking the situation she was currently placed in.
Giselle curled her fingers into a fist and lifted her arm. Just as she was about to knock on the wooden door – the only thing that appeared to be made of would from where Remy was standing – opened.
A woman stood in the doorway, but it was hard to make her out due to the darkness.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she said in a silky voice tainted with a Spanish accent. “Please.” She swept her arm out. “Come in, won’t you?”
Remy’s first reaction was to say no, that they had the wrong house, apologize for the confusion, and get back to town as quickly as possible. Apparently, Giselle and Adele did not have the same reaction because they took up this Esmeralda character up on her kind offer and walked into the house.
“Aren’t you coming?” Esmeralda inquired innocently when Remy did not move.
“I” - Remy swallowed once more and clenched her jaw in hopes to stop it and other parts of her body from shaking. Without another word, she rushed into the house and only relaxed slightly once she was surrounded by both Adele and Giselle.
There was light in the room, but it was not coming from gas lamps. Many candles were scattered throughout the room giving it light, but upon checking the curtains that prevented light from shining through, Remy saw that there were no curtains. There was simply glass, like any other window, except while they were able to see out, people were unable to see inside. This discovery had Remy’s body tensing once more.
“So we finally meet,” Esmeralda said in her harmonious voice. “You are the one causing the disturbance in The Underworld.”
Remy forced her eyes up off of the wooden floor and into Esmeralda’s dark eyes. There was something not quite right about this woman, but for the life of her, Remy could not figure it out. She was beautiful; that was merely a fact rather than Remy’s personal opinion. Esmeralda’s hair was a rich chestnut color that tumbled down her curvy frame in perfect waves, reaching just past her breasts. It was shiny and the ends were even. She had smooth olive colored skin, not a freckle in sight, nothing out of place. Her eyes were dark, nearly as black as her pupils making them look bigger than they already were. Her nose was long and slender, probably the defining feature of her face, and her lips were wide and plump. She body had curves women envied, with a blessed bosom, a narrow waist, and round hips. She was wearing a loose dress that managed to hang onto her curves as though for dear life, and Remy could tell that no corset was employed. Her feet were bare underneath her light, folded skirt. She looked too refined to be a gypsy and too wild to be respectable.
And Remy envied her for it.
She could not explain it, but she envied this woman’s ability to somehow possess both poise and unruliness, both masculinity and femininity, both innocence and experience, as though she was every sort of woman wrapped up into one.
“I have been waiting for this meeting to see you for myself,” Esmeralda continued, taking a step towards Remy. Upon further glance, Remy noticed that her right foot had rings on her toes – three, to be exact – while her left angle was occupied by a slender gold chain. “With my own eyes.”
“I am Remy,” Remy said because she really had no idea what else she was supposed to say.
This caused Esmeralda’s painted lips to curl up. Somehow, her eyes grew even darker as a sparkle occupied the irises.
“I know,” Esmeralda said, straightening. “And I know why you are here. I believe Nick won’t be too happy when he finds that three have you left without so much as a word to him, hmm?”
Remy’s mouth dropped. How could she possibly have known that?
“Nick was otherwise occupied,” Adele said, taking a seat on the crimson-colored armchair. Remy watched her fluid motions, her loose shoulders, her easy smile. Adele knew this woman, and more than that, was comfortable with this woman. In fact, if Remy’s eyes were not deceiving her, Adele seemed to enjoy this woman’s company, which was odd because Adele rarely enjoyed anyone’s company.
“Ah.” Esmeralda nodded her head, a knowing look on her face. She gestured at both Remy and Giselle, the two women left standing. “Won’t you please sit down? With the information you want to know, you might wish to be more comfortable receiving it.”
Remy glanced at Giselle, waiting for her friend to make the first move. When Giselle slid down into the matching crimson couch, Remy followed suit. Her back was still straight, her hands folded in her lap, her ankles crossed and tucked behind her. She did not want to stare but her eyes did not seem to want to look anywhere else but at Esmeralda, who decided to sit in the second chair, positioned adjacent to the couch and across from Adele. Only a long, rectangular table sat between the furniture with interesting carvings, maybe in another language or perhaps carved symbols that represented something.
“You are looking for Captain Pan, yes?” Esmeralda said. However, the look on her face revealed that no matter which way the women before her answered, she knew the truth.
“Yes,” Giselle said with a nod of her head.
“How could you possibly know that?” Remy had not wanted to sound rude – and by the daggers Adele was throwing at her with merely her eyes, she knew she had – but the words jumped from her mouth without any warning. And now that Remy had spoken, she could not exactly take them back.
Instead of being offended, Esmeralda chuckled. It sounded like tinkling bells and probably caused the flowers to bloom, it was so delightful. “I know more than you think, young one,” she said, her eyes solely focused on Remy.
“Yes, but how?” Perhaps Remy should not be pushing this woman, but Esmeralda had not exactly answered her question.
“It is one of my talents I have bestowed with,” she said. “Just like Adele is skilled with a blade and Giselle is skilled in the culinary arts.”
“What am I skilled with?” Remy wanted to know.
“That is for you to find out, my dear. I cannot tell you.”
> “Getting back to the matter at hand,” Adele said after clearing her throat with impatience.
“You will, though.” Esmeralda was still looking at Remy, an indiscernible look on her face. “Do not fret, Remy, but you will find your talents, and more than that, you will find your purpose. Trust that.”
Remy was unsure how to respond to that, so she said nothing.
Adele glanced between the two women before saying, “About Pan?”
“Ah yes.” Esmeralda leaned back in her chair, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. “Captain Pan. The Magistrate’s eyes, yes? Tell me; why is it that you are seeking him?”
“We believe that he is responsible for the recent attacks on innocent ships, slaying souls so they are lost forever,” Giselle answered in her soft-spoken voice.
Remy narrowed her eyes, expecting Esmeralda to disagree with Giselle’s statement, claiming that such a thing was impossible due to the fact that Captain Pan did, in fact, work for the Magistrate and as such, could not possibly be responsible for those attacks. She expected Esmeralda to snap open her eyes or to push up her eyebrows or to react in some way to this news.
But all Esmeralda did was… nothing. She looked exactly the same as she had before Giselle spoke; relaxed, calm, at peace.
Who was this woman, exactly?
“Was it Nick’s idea to go after Isaac in the first place?” was the next question off Esmeralda’s painted lips. Still, her eyes remained calm.
“It was,” Giselle said.
“But only after James Hook gave Nick evidence that it was Pan behind the attacks,” Adele added.
This caused Esmeralda to open her eyes and pick her head off the back of the couch. :”Really?” she asked. To Remy, she sounded genuinely surprised. “What did James want in return?”
“He didn’t ask for anything,” Giselle explained.
“But he did lecture Nick about the lack of souls he was receiving,” Adele said.
“How very strange…” Esmeralda let her voice trail off. Despite her statement, she still had a passive look on her face. “And what was the evidence James showed Nick in order to get him to believe that the man behind the attacks really is Isaac?”
Death in Neverland: Book 1 in The Neverland Trilogy (The Neverland Series) Page 21