Remy felt touched by Nick’s words, and she felt herself swallow. She did not know pirates could appreciate something as simple as a sunset. Her eyes watched the water, though she could not help taking a step forward to get a better view of what would take place in mere moments.
“Captain,” Adele said, running over to Nick’s side. “We have company.”
Remy craned her neck over her shoulder, watching as Adele handed Nick the spyglass. The redhead was pointing to the right. Remy looked in that direction but could not see what it was that had gotten the young woman so riled up.
Until the ship emerged from the fog.
Nick placed his palm flat on Remy’s stomach and pushed her back from the edge. The young girl was prepared to open her mouth and lecture him for numerous reasons including touching her without her permission and touching her naval as though he owned it, but the look on his face stopped her. Remy would not say Nick appeared to be scared because she felt that such a thing was impossible. But there was a caution that tainted his chiseled face, a caution she did not know existed inside of him. As such, she allowed him to draw her back from the bow of the ship.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispered to her, his voice low and demanding.
Once again, Remy frowned, this time at the assumption that she would do something stupid.
“Who is that?” she asked him.
Nick did not answer.
“Captain,” Edward called before appearing by Nick’s side. Remy could tell his blue eyes were the same as Nick’s, cautious but hard. Any tension that had been stewing between the two men – at least on Edward’s part - had temporarily vanished. Business, it would seem, was more pertinent than exasperation. “Should I lift anchor?”
“No,” Nick said, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the oncoming ship and shaking his head. Remy noticed him fiddling with the lace around his wrist. He must be nervous, she realized. But why? Her eyes narrowed as she abruptly realized that the lace looked particularly familiar… “We’ll see what he wants.”
“What who wants?” Remy asked, but her question went unanswered once more.
Clenching her jaw together in order to stop herself from demanding an answer, she turned her eyes back to the ship and tried to find clues as to who it belonged to. It was much grander than Nick’s ship. There had to be at least four levels to it, not including the deck that held men wearing the exact same attire as everyone on the Black Star: a tunic, pantaloons, and boots. The ship appeared older than Nick’s but in just as good, if not better condition. The mast was nearly double the size and instead of white (and quite dirty) sails, these ones were a smoky grey. If one did not see that they belonged to a ship, the sails could be mistaken for the smoke from a fire or a heavy storm cloud. The bow had the statue of a nearly naked woman – a mermaid, Remy realized – with long flowing hair and details of the scales on her tail. Her lifeless eyes looked ahead of her and her left arm was stretched in front of her, reaching for something just out of her grasp. The name of the ship was Draumr Vándr. Remy did not know what it meant, but she felt herself take a step toward Nick, who had since dropped his hand from her belly, nonetheless.
“What does it mean?”
Remy assumed she would not get an answer, but Nick surprised her. She did not even have to explain what she meant.
“It loosely translates to Bad Dream or Nightmare,” he said. “Now, please darling” – he turned his head so he could lock eyes with her. All the mischief had disappeared, replaced by a seriousness Remy did not know existed in him – “don’t say or do anything, really. Anything at all.”
By this time, the ship had pulled up to the Black Star’s starboard side so both ships were about two to three feet apart. If a person from either ship grabbed onto a rope normally used to keep a sail up and running, it would not be difficult for them to swing over.
And then, Remy saw the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes upon in her entire life. He was walking towards the side of his own ship, probably in order to converse with Nick about whatever it was they needed to discuss. He moved with the grace of a cat, with steady purpose, and carried himself as royalty might have, with his chin tilted up slightly and his eyes directly in front of him. They were blue, by the way. His eyes. A color she had never seen before, actually. Striking. A cool color. He was tall, much taller than Nick. Well past six foot. Probably taller than even Calum by an inch or two. His short blonde hair was brushed back and off to the side so it was out of his face and every lock was accounted for. Despite the fact that he seemed to be an expert on sailing – though Remy was not sure why she believed that other than his sheer confidence on his ship – his skin was still pale, but not sickly. There were no whiskers on the lower half of his face which meant he shaved regularly.
Which meant he probably had not run out of soap.
His clothing was crisp and pressed, fitting his body as though they were tailor-made for him. He, too, was wearing a similar outfit – built for comfort rather than style – but Remy did not spy a single speck of dirt on them from her standing position. He was wearing a sky-blue tunic that only brought out his eyes tucked neatly into black pantaloons. Black boots completed the outfit, and they looked quite polished. The outfit also revealed his broad shoulders and lean physique.
For whatever reason, Remy felt herself blushing as a result of simply looking at him.
“Nick.” His voice was dark velvet, smooth but with a hint of danger embedded in his low tone. He did not shout, and Remy doubted that he ever would. There was no reason for him too; she had a feeling that whatever room he walked into, no matter how filled with occupants it was, people would stop and stare, giving him their attention on a silver platter. His perfect posture demanded respect and she was certain people gave it to him, whether they believed he deserved it or not.
“James.”
Remy snapped her head to Nick, her eyes questioning, but he pointedly ignored her.
No wonder everyone seemed both intimidated and awed by him at the same time. He was James Hook, ruler of The Other World.
“Is there something you needed?” Nick asked. “It is not every day I am honored by your presence.”
The left side of James’s lips curled up, but the grin did not reach his eyes. “Needed is not the word I would have used,” he explained. “But I think I found her.”
Suddenly, his eyes were on Remy, and completely beyond her control, she felt herself straighten and all the air leave her body. Those blue eyes, those piercing blue eyes could see right through her. She knew it. He was looking directly at her soul, he was learning all of her secrets, and there was nothing she could do about it because she was paralyzed under his gaze. And loathe as she was to admit it, she liked it, and she did not understand why.
Nick stepped in front of Remy, shielding the majority of her body with his own.
“I see you’ve acquired a new crewmember,” James said, finally pulling his eyes away from Remy in order to look back at Nick. Remy felt as though she had just broken free from a spell. “Might you introduce me to her?”
“I think not,” Nick said tightly.
“Manners were never your strong suit, were they?” James asked. He cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know what she is, Grey. Even from here, I can hear the sound of her accelerated heartbeat, can feel that she is alive. There is something amiss with this picture. She is not destined to rule a realm or ferry the souls, and yet she is alive in The Underworld. Why?”
“If all you’re going to do is waste my time with nonsensical questions, I plan to hoist anchor and leave,” Nick said.
“If you do that, how will I ever be able to deliver my warning to you?” James asked. A small smile played on his lips when he knew Nick was fully listening, would not leave as the pirate just threatened to do so. “Ah, I thought you might be interested. Smart decision you’ve made, Captain, since your life is at stake.”
Nine
“And how is
my life at stake, exactly?” Nick asked in a flat tone.
It sounded to Remy as though Nick did not quite believe what James had just said, and yet she could tell that perhaps Nick was not willing to take the chance that James could be lying to him. Could James even lie, she wondered?
“Certainly even you have heard the rumors of a mysterious ship sailing our waters and killing souls,” James stated. “For no apparent reason, other than to do so.”
“I have heard of this, yes,” Nick drawled, still not ready to commit one way or another to James’s obvious baiting.
“Well, I happened to have acquired the name of the captain of said ship,” James said.
His voice always had an element of coldness in it, Remy noticed.
“And why, pray tell, would you give me the name?” Nick asked. He furrowed his brow. “In fact, why should I even care about who this so-called person is? I highly doubt they would even think to threaten me, considering I have been appointed to my position by the Creator. Without me, there will be no one to ferry the souls.”
“You overestimate your value. You are easily replaced, Nick.” He paused. “As to why this information might be important for you to know…” He let his voice trail off and turned to a woman standing silently by his side.
A woman Remy had not noticed before.
A woman who caused Remy’s heart to sink.
Of course he was involved with someone, she thought sullenly to herself. How could he not be?
When her own thoughts reached her ears, she immediately blushed and then started to wordlessly scold herself for such ridiculous musings, especially when something so important was happening before her.
The mystery woman produced a sword of some sort from the sheath hanging from a belt on her side and handed it to James.
Without even realizing it, Remy began to study the woman, making comparisons and stacking up their differences. She, too, had alabaster skin that Remy could not help but envy. It had barely been a day since Remy’s abrupt arrival here and already her skin had a light bronze to it which she knew would only grow worse. The woman’s hair was pulled back from her face with a black ribbon – at least, that was the color Remy assumed the ribbon was, unless it was a dark blue – so her face was left bare of any stray locks. Her hair was the same color as the petals of a sunflower, and the strands had a slight curve to them, like the stem of the flower did. From where she was standing, Remy believed her eyes were a strange color of amber and brown, a mixture that probably favored one color depending on her mood. She was a couple of inches shorter than Remy, standing at five foot five if Remy had to guess. She was wearing black pantaloons and a white tunic, but unlike Remy’s own outfit, this woman seemed to be wearing clothing that was custom-made to fit her because instead of masking her fit body, the attire revealed it as though it could not keep the secret. Her black boots reached her knee, and much like James, there was no dirt, no wrinkles, nothing that would suggest she did not wash at least once a day and probably never wore the same outfit twice.
“Ah yes,” James said. The same small, knowing smile was on his lips as he took whatever it was that the woman handed him. “Here it is.” He held up what looked to be a fire poker, not a sword, except as Remy scrutinized it more, she noticed that there was not an actual poker. Rather, the tool formed what appeared to be a snake at the end of it. “Certainly you recognize this, Nick.”
Remy felt Nick tense behind her. When she glanced up at him, she saw that his brown eyes had darkened, along with his face, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“Apparently this was recovered from one of the many attacks,” James explained, dropping his blue eyes to look at the poker. “Obviously it is not something an everyday sailor and certainly not any pirate would have just lying around.”
“Certainly not,” Nick agreed in a tight voice. Remy saw his jaw pop and from the corner of her eye, noticed that the captain clenched and unclenched his fingers into fists. For whatever reason, Nick seemed to be affected by the poker. But why?
“You know who I speak of, then?” James asked, but of course, he already knew Nick’s answer. Those blue eyes danced because he knew.
“There is not a pirate in The Neverland who does not know who you speak of,” Nick said in the same low, controlled voice. Remy was not sure if she liked how serious Nick sounded. Perhaps it was not something she was used to as of yet.
“I thought so,” James said.
“That still begs the question of why you were so kind enough to tell me, James. I know you pretty well, and you are anything but kind.”
“Perhaps, but I am a fair man.” He handed the poker back to the woman at his side and she replaced it into her sheath. “There are many things we disagree upon, Nick, but you are still the Transporter. You still ferry souls to me. However you choose to live your existence is not something I care much for as long as you get me my souls. And normally you do. Certainly they may not come at a consistent rate probably due to the fact that you seem to constantly be running away from the Guard, but the souls come. I would like to know, then, why the number of souls you have brought the last few times have been substantially less than normal.” It was suddenly James’s voice that had turned dark, and Remy felt herself straighten at the sound of it.
“I did not notice,” Nick responded. Despite James’s harsh tone, Nick had a casual air about him. Remy was not sure if that made him confident, stupid, or both. “It is not my job to stop and count how many souls are at The Alley. I pick them up and drop them off. That is all.”
“That is not all,” James said in a rush. He must have realized he lost control over himself temporarily because he paused, his blue eyes staring at Nick with an intensity Remy had never felt before. “How can that be all,” he continued, this time more slowly, “when you obviously have a new crewmember? Where did she come from, I wonder?”
“That is none of your concern,” Nick said, taking a step in front of Remy once more. She could not see the look currently on his face, but she could certainly feel how rigid he was.
James smiled at Nick’s protective gesture over the young girl, but it did not reach his eyes. “Actually, I beg to differ with you,” he said. “In fact, I think it’s especially my concern.”
“Sir.” The voice was quiet though feminine, and it took Remy a moment to realize that it was the woman standing next to James. She began to speak in a language Remy did not understand but as she listened, she found that she liked it. Especially when he replied in the same language, in his smooth, chocolate tone.
“What are they saying?” Remy whispered to Nick, keeping her eyes firmly locked on James in front of her.
“I do not speak Viking,” Nick replied dryly. He, too, kept his eyes ahead of him, as though he did not completely trust James enough to take his eyes off of him.
“It’s actually Old Norse,” James said, turning back to the Black Star. “I taught it to Magdalena. Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think you’ve been acquainted with her. Magdalena Raybourn has been with me for at least a hundred years. I trust no one as I trust her.”
“One hundred years,” Remy murmured to herself. “That is one thousand years on Earth.”
“Correct,” James said. His eyes, once more, were on Remy, and they burned through her to her very core. Again, her muscles were tense; she could not move if she tried. In fact, she found it hard to believe that even her heart was still beating. “I apologize, I do not think we’ve been introduced. My name is James Hook. And you are?”
“She’s none of your concern,” Nick repeated before Remy could speak.
Remy narrowed her eyes at Nick’s back, and before she could fully think about what she was doing, stepped around the pirate and said, “Actually, my name is Remy Cutler.”
The woman, Magdalena, nudged James’s arm with her shoulder, and shot her amber eyes ahead of her. There did not seem to be a need to verbalize whatever it was she was trying to communicate. James turned his head to look at his
crew, drawing Remy’s attention to them as well.
They were all looking at her!
And not only that, some of them were actually walking towards her.
“Didn’t I tell you not to say anything stupid?” Nick asked lowly, snapping his neck around in order to look at Remy.
“I did not know that introducing myself was a form of idiocy,” Remy returned with just as much spite.
“I see the two of you seem to be disagreeing about something,” James called. “How unfortunate. Nick, would you mind telling me how you managed to bring a young girl down here who is, in fact, alive?”
Remy frowned. She was seventeen years of age, not a mere girl.
“See?” Nick asked through gritted teeth. “Now please, do us all a favor and keep. Your. Mouth. Shut. Aye?”
Remy wanted to say, no, not aye, but the more she continued to look at James, the more she felt a shiver slide down her back. Certainly he was handsome, and certainly she was attracted to him. But she did not know who he was and the way those blue orbs were looking at her, she thought they were hungry. For what, she did not know, but it would seem he expected her to fulfill it in some way.
“My souls,” James continued, his voice taking a darker tone but somehow remained just as smooth, “seem drawn to Miss Cutler. Why?”
Nick opened his mouth to reply, but Edward cut him off.
“Captain, the souls have been dispensed,” he said.
Nick nodded and looked back at James.
“Not quite sure how to answer that one, mate,” Nick said quickly. The charm had laced itself back into his voice. “But you have your souls, however few they may be. I’m off then. Until next time. It was nice to meet you, Magdalena,” he called to the woman.
Her eyes darkened to a bronze. “That is Miss Raybourn to you,” she said coldly.
“Miss Raybourn, of course.” Nick reached up and wiggled his fingers in a casual wave. “Ta.”
The Neverland Trilogy Box Set Page 9