Forever Cursed

by Sarah J. Pepper

  I heard more footsteps but couldn’t concentrate on counting the numbers. My head pounded. The adrenaline rush was dwindling, and I was desperate to find a way to get James and me to safety.

  “I will enjoy killing you,” Deval promised.

  “The monarch sent more men as soon as he recognized Tinker Bell from Chaz’s tattoo. She doesn’t look like she can take much more playing. It’s amazing she still breathes.” Mullins knelt in front of me, eyeing me from my neck down. I never wanted a dress so badly.

  “Recognized me?” I repeated.

  Mullins pulled up his sleeve, revealing the monarch’s crest. “If the dagger is removed from the eye, Kensington can see through it.”

  “And how does the dagger get removed?” I asked like I didn’t already know the answer. But this native wouldn’t know that. He only knew things about me from the rumors he might have heard.

  “You know the dagger falls when the person dies, fairy,” Deval snapped. “Stop playing the idiot.”

  I licked my lips. I bet I could pluck the dagger from their skin. It was just a tattoo. It could come off just as it came off my back. I reached for Mullins’ dagger. As soon as I touched it, I knew it was made of fairy dust. I could feel it in my bones. I could awaken the magic in it as well. I blew on it. As the air circulated around the ink, hot sparks flew.

  Mullins snapped his arm back. The ink turned an angry red. The smell of burnt flesh hung in the air. The dried ink began to flutter away in the wind like embers. Fairy dust could be released in beautiful ways once the body no longer carried life.

  “Hello, Kensington,” I churned, staring at the skull’s open eyes on Mullins’ skin.

  Mullins backhanded me. “Work your black magic on me again, I dare you.”

  “I’d advise you not to touch me again,” I said, coldly. “If you bear the ink made from fairy dust, why not leave?”

  “Are you still playing stupide?” Deval said. “The design must be perfect to leave. Fairy dust is used for more than just getting off this island.”

  Suddenly Chaz’s body dropped down from the treetops. Mullins had to dodge out of the way, or it would have landed on him. Whereas it grazed me as it fell. Glowing gel oozed out from them, turning the blood purple when it mixed with it. But there was a moan—a deep, wheezing moan coming from the body.

  “Holy crap, he’s alive!” Mullins exclaimed, kneeling beside the fallen man.

  I eyed Deval. I could practically see the thoughts running through his head on whether to use the mermaid tears on his comrade. Yet, he didn’t say a word.

  “The tear!” Mullins eyed him suspiciously. When his lieutenant didn’t offer it up, Mullins cracked his knuckles. “He is a good man. He’s saved your ass many times.”

  “Tears heal wounds, they do not recreate blood that has been lost,” Deval said. “If they did, don’t you think this fairy would have used the other drop on her capitaine?”

  “You greedy bastard!” Mullins shouted, exploding up from the ground to face his lieutenant. “You want the tear for yourself.”

  “It’s been almost a century since Kensington had a tear in his possession. He’ll reward us greatly for bringing him one,” Deval argued. He crossed his arms and stared at his comrade. “Besides, if Chaz is meant to live, then he will. And if our monarch values his life, he’ll give up the tear to his subject.”

  That sounded like a lie to me. Mullins wasn’t buying it either. Yet, I wasn’t going to do or say anything that would waste a tear on my enemy—especially a friend of Peter’s.

  “You’d just leave him here?” Mullins cocked his head to the side.

  “No, you idiot. We’ll just leave the capitaine here,” Deval ordered and then smiled wide upon locking his gaze with mine. “Chaz and the fairy are enough weight as it is.”

  No! I lunged for James in desperation. However, Deval pulled me back by my hair. I dropped my grip on James to pull Deval’s hands away. When I couldn’t get him to let go, I whipped my head backward, slamming into his face.

  “You stupid putain,” Deval swore, throwing me against a tree like I weighed next to nothing.

  My back cracked. A metallic taste saturated my mouth. Deval held me there, seething. His face turned red and the veins in his arms bulged.

  “You will pay for that!” Deval boomed.

  “I swear your payment for my torment will be much worse,” I fumed and dug my nails into his forearm where the monarch’s crest was tattooed. There were many ways I could tap into the magic they wore on their skin.

  He dropped me. My hip popped when I hit the ground. I curled over in pain and buried my face in my hands, screaming as the pain seared through me.

  “Make sure she doesn’t try fleeing, though I doubt she’d get very far, George,” Deval ordered a burly man who stepped into the clearing. The man grunted and crossed his arms. He must have had a hundred pounds on me. Next to him stood a smaller fellow with big round glasses. One lens was broken. “Starkey, help Mullins carry Chaz.”

  Starkey, a tall, lengthy fellow, grabbed Mullins’ arm and pulled him toward Chaz. They quickly bandaged him up as best they could. Counting to three, they picked him up and carried him past me.

  Closing my eyes, I focused on my surroundings. I could hear people stomping about, my guess was around ten, give or take a handful. Though, it didn’t matter. Deval was right—I wouldn’t get far in my condition, and I didn’t dare leave James.

  “My captain requires attention,” I begged.

  “I would be less concerned about your capitaine and more worried about yourself,” Deval said, with a tight-lipped smile as my horror set in. “George, carry her. I doubt she can even walk anymore.”

  “Please, please, please,” I begged as George, the burly one, moved to pick me up. “Just leave me here to die with my captain.”

  “Bargaining with George will do you no good, he’s…how do you say, muet?” Deval laughed. “His tongue was cut out.”

  George huffed as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. A sharp pain ripped through me like electricity. It stole the air from my lungs. The brute clasped his hand right over my side, forcing screams from my throat.

  “They are always so pretty,” Mullins noted. “Even when they are broken, fairies are beautiful creatures.”

  “They were designed that way to entice us,” Deval snickered, watching me writhe in pain. “It will be a pity to hand her over to the practitioner after Kensington and I get through with her.”

  I didn’t know what hurt worse, the pain I suffered or knowing I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to my captain.

  “Hear that, fairy. You’ll be joining your queen on Skull Rock soon enough,” Deval snickered from behind.

  “You will regret leaving my captain here to die,” I promised.

  “I doubt that,” Deval laughed.

  I laughed too. My voice hung in the air like the mermaids’ used to before I gave up my voice. It pricked at their ears. While I may not have seen blood, they’d never forget the sound.

  I promised myself if I had to leave a part of me dead in the forest, Kensington would leave his dead there too. They may have cut down all the vines around the spring, but I was certain they wouldn’t clear a path all the way to their Crown Estate.

  I just had to be patient.

  Chapter 9

  Miss Bell

  Apologizing for hanging Starkey, or the others, would have been a lie, so I kept my mouth shut as I watched Deval and Mullins try to free him from the catacomb of vines. Moments before, I’d managed to brush up against a vine while George carried me. I had whispered a spell to tie knots around anything it could grab. Within a matter of seconds, it laced itself around Starkey’s neck and jerked him into the air.

  George lurched me off his shoulder and dropped me on the ground without a second thought. When I could think about something other than the pain, I pushed myself upright and rubbed my eyes. My head throbbed when I looked around, taking in my surroundings. There had to
be somewhere I could go—somewhere I could hide while those idiots tried to save their comrade.

  A few paces away was another vine which dangled low enough I could reach it. If I could get to it, perhaps I could command it to pull me up and away from my captors. It would buy me time. Much needed time.

  I went for it. Biting my tongue to take some of my attention off the pain in my hips, I crawled to it.

  “Stop her!” Mullins shouted, spotting me. “She’s doing it again!”

  “If my captain must lie alone on the forest floor, then I will decorate the treetops with your comrades,” I promised.

  Deval charged, his machete in hand. The pounding of his footsteps matched the beating of my headache. They could beat me. They could torture me. And since they insisted on metaphorically tearing out my heart, I would make theirs stop beating as well. I would fight every chance I got. I’d see them pay. We’d suffer together.

  As Deval pulled back on his machete, I twirled my fingers around a vine. If I couldn’t use it to escape, I’d use it to hang that vile man. It awakened to my touch, but I wasn’t fast enough. Glowing orbs sprayed everywhere.

  I barely blinked when Deval slammed the hilt against my head. “Try that again, and I’ll use the other end, putain.”

  A high-pitched ringing deafened my ears. Blackness crept in, blinding me.

  Just as quickly as my senses were dulled, light blinded me. Everything was saturated in whiteness. I raised my hand over my eyes to shield some of the light. It didn’t hurt to move, but I didn’t feel quite right. It was like I was drugged or something. I didn’t feel shadows coating me like when I was dying. This felt different. I spun around, searching for signs of Peter. I didn’t see him nor was I standing in the forest.

  “I’m dreaming.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t simply dreamed without Peter harassing me for nights.

  Before me was an ocean, waves crashing against the shore. It was stunning, appearing exactly how it had been so many years ago when I had first laid eyes on the Atocha—Davy Jones’ prized warship.

  “This isn’t a dream, it’s a memory,” I told myself.

  The way yellow cast in the sky was enchanting. It served as a warning to humans that a storm was coming with the night. I remembered that night quite clearly as I made my way through the marketplace, pickpocketing my next meal. I slipped a bright green apple off a cart while the owner counted out the fruit to a paying customer.

  I suppressed a tight-lipped smile until I was a few paces away. My thievery went undetected. Taking a bite, I made my way to Pica’s port and prayed that the signs of a hurricane approaching had reached the captain I’d been hunting. I’d been hunting him for months, hopping from port to port, taking account of the Atocha’s cargo. It was quite the score. Rumors of Davy Jones’ prized cargo had spread throughout the Seven Seas. By now it had to be carrying the largest treasure haul of tobacco, silver, gold, and jewels. The idealistic way people spoke of him was like a god himself.

  I wanted to meet this god among men.

  Even so, I knew luring a captain who managed to score himself such a large amount of spoils wouldn’t be easy to trick—or convince that Neverland was as good as I could make it sound.

  “There she is,” I said, spotting the Atocha as it made port.

  Under the coat of darkening clouds and a light rain, the ship was magnificent. As the thunder rolled in, hanging above the rain clouds, lightning lit up the sheer size of the vessel.

  Staying hidden in an alley next to a tavern, I watched silently while eating my apple. With merciless authority, Captain Davy Jones barked out orders. He refused to accept anything less than perfection until the ship was secure, only then did he allow his crew reprieve from the vessel and their duties.

  After they docked, I followed the captain and a few crewmen as they made their way deeper into Pica. Davy stopped outside a brothel.

  He flipped open a timepiece and then snapped it shut. “We leave at first light, that gives you six hours to do your worst. Anyone not aboard the Atocha will get left in this shithole of a town.”

  With that, I pulled my cloak over my head, covering my pointed ears and tattooed back. Walking toward the tavern, I pretended I was a working girl who was simply trying to get in before the rain came pouring down. I could feel his eyes on me. I pretended not to notice that he eyed me down like I was a possession rather than a human being. I can’t say I hadn’t glanced at him with the same thoughts. He’d make a lovely trinket on Neverland. Dare I say if any man would challenge Kensington for command of the natives, it would be this captain.

  As I slipped by the captain, I glanced at the rare piece of bronze ornament, fighting the urge to pick it from him as soon as I saw the inscription. We’re all dust in the end.

  I never wondered where Davy got that timepiece. A drastic miscalculation on my part. At the time, I merely wanted it. Craved it. Anything sparkly had my attention. Oh, the urge to clutch it in my fingers nearly drew me to lure him back to the ship that night and force him to the beach at Neverland.

  However, this wasn’t my first bout with pirates. They were used to taking what they wanted. Yet, it always came as a surprise when someone stole from them. Or rather, they were surprised when they had been taken by a little thing, such as myself.

  With the captain and his pocket watch on my mind, I bumped up against a younger man with disheveled hair and the darkest eyes I’d ever gazed upon. He caught me, grabbing my arm to keep me from tripping.

  The feeling that washed over me when he grabbed my arm to steady me was pure exhilaration. My skin tingled under his touch. I would have expected such a reaction had I brushed up against the captain, but his son? Taken off guard, I gave him the once over. He took after his father, yet there was a darkness in his eyes even Davy couldn’t match. He certainly had the appeal for distasteful men—men who I was attracted to. Stealing, smuggling, fighting, and lustful encounters with random women was already in his blood. But it was his craving for power that compelled me so.

  But that was before he had a scar across his throat.

  “Pardon me,” I whispered.

  Goosebumps shot down his arm after I spoke. He quickly released his grip.

  “Move over, Jimmy,” Davy ordered, grabbing his son and jerking him away from me. “The dame needs to earn an honest living.”

  “Sorry, miss,” Jimmy mumbled as he scooted out of the way.

  I bit my bottom lip, keeping a smile from spreading across my face. I very much liked how he addressed me so formally. Very much indeed.

  “I still don’t know what draws you to him,” Peter whispered in my ear, jolting me from my memory. “But if it’s what you want, I will fill that fantasy.”

  My memory fell out of focus when I twirled around. Burning pain rippled across my feet. I unleashed a slew of cuss words. Razor sharp black sand covered my feet. Large lava rocks were scattered about, making for bigger obstacles to cut one’s skin.

  I hated the sight of sand on my feet. I hated the sight of blood on them even more. It meant I was slow.

  My eye twitched. “Why did you bring me to Shipwreck Cove?”

  “To fulfill your fantasy,” he replied and then raced up the side of a moss-covered rescue boat which was half buried beneath the sand and lava rocks. “If that is what you are currently in the mood for, I can satisfy your hunger.”

  I had the sudden urge to spit in his face. “You are delusional.”

  “I have the fastest ship in the Seven Seas, a compass to lead me to the most impossible places, and I am only missing…” He began to count on his fingers and then stopped like he lost count. “One or two things.”

  “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I seethed.

  “But instead I pulled one over on you, and you gave me what I always wanted. Immortality.”

  “And a damned crew with it,” I said, not bothering to hide my guilt for condemning them.

  “Speaking of a damned crew,” he said, spreadin
g his arms wide, “tell me, darling, what ship would you like to commandeer to sail around as the most powerful couple known to man?”

  Chapter 10

  Miss Bell

  I never regretted leaving Neverland. While I never regretted my return, for James had stepped foot on the sand, I wished destiny hadn’t been such a vindictive bitch. I’d left my past on the island, but like the island—and the natives inhabiting it—did not move on as quickly as I had. Which explained the numerous chains, securing my wrists and ankles to a wooden staff. Mullins carried one end while Deval handled the other. I could hardly move, but even then, my body screamed in protest. I was healing but slowly—excruciatingly slow.

  Ropes were tied around me. Stuffed between them were leaves and long grasses. Mud filled the cracks. The only skin that showed was on my face. Fragments of the past few days came to light. Of the men who stole me away from my captain, only four did not hang from trees.

  Though, Deval and Mullins looked far more beaten and bruised than the men I had managed to twist up into the treetops. Seeing the red marks around Deval’s neck pleased me in an insatiable way. Not as much as knowing he was dead, but that he was injured gave me intense satisfaction. Mullins’ arms were rubbed raw. Blood traces on his shirt were twisted around in lines like he’d been squeezed so hard blood came out.

  Regardless, they fended far better than the others. George was the only one who had managed to dodge most of the vines. For being a big man, he could move quickly. But not as much anymore as he carried Chaz’s massive body, the only barely surviving trinket which managed to still draw a breath after being hung from the trees.

  I’d made sure they hung like the vines in the forest. The place would be riddled with dead bodies. And then images of James struggling to breathe on the forest floor floated to the top of my mind. I bit my cheek to keep from crying. I would not give anyone the satisfaction of watching me cry. He was not dead. I had watched his chest rise and fall. I would not lose hope that he survived. Until then, I filled my pain with vengeance.

  “I don’t know why you are smiling, fairy.” Deval sneered down at me with disgust. “Your capitaine is surely dead, and you will be joining him soon.”