The Neverland Trilogy Box Set

by Isadora Brown

  “Where is she?” Calum asked as Adele and Edward slowly slid back down into their seats. Nick was still left standing.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Nick asked. Now, the look on his face was rather pitiful as he, too, slid downwards until he slumped in his seat. “Pan has her.”

  “How?” Giselle asked.

  “He doesn’t even know of her,” Calum pointed out.

  “Don’t be fools,” Nick said, but the venom that was supposed to be in his voice was lacking. He was suddenly tired and worried and helpless. Remy was going to be hurt and it was all his fault. “Of course he knows of Remy. He has this nasty habit of knowing nearly everything.”

  “Where were you all anyways?” Giselle asked, looking between the men.

  “The women that adorned themselves on us were filled with spirits which loosened their tongues,” Edward said with a mirthless smirk. “They mentioned recognizing a rather frequent customer who would always brag about being Lieutenant to Pan. We went to investigate but we could not find him in the Knight’s Cross Inn, where he is supposedly staying.”

  Nick suddenly leapt out of his seat once more. This time, instead of scorn on his face, he was smirking, his eyes lighting up.

  “What is it?” Adele asked, looking up at her captain. “Where are you going?”

  “I know where she is,” he said with satisfaction before disappearing in the crowd.

  Twenty-Five

  It should have been rather simple to figure out, really. The fact that Nick didn’t realize it until Edward went into detail about their whereabouts should have frightened Nick about his obvious attachment to the girl since he was too blinded by his yearning to find her and save her that he wouldn’t allow his mind to form a rational conclusion. But now was not the time to dwell on what he might or might not feel for Remy. His first and only priority was finding her, and that was that.

  “What do you mean, you know where she is?” Adele asked, keeping up with him with a grace only she seemed to possess. “Where? How?”

  “The whore was wrong,” Nick said with unrefined blatancy. “The room at the inn wasn’t rented for the lieutenant, but Pan. He’s here, looking for me too.”

  “But why?”

  Nick pressed his lips together, still keeping his eyes focused ahead of him. “Let us just say that he has his reasons for revenge against me just like I have,” he said rather cryptically. It would seem that those words were all Adele would get as explanation from her pirate captain.

  “Why Remy?” Adele asked. “Why not just find you and take on his revenge? Why involve Remy?”

  “For many reasons,” Nick hissed. He stopped in front of the inn, his eyes searching for some hint of where Remy might be, which room she might be locked up in. He did not want to speak loudly in fear of giving his presence away, and as such, he began to move away from the entrance of the inn until he reached the back, his crew slightly breathless but right behind him. “She shines, Adele. And it’s rather obvious. Even without her affiliation with me, he would have been drawn to her and with Pan wanting to be all powerful and all knowledgeable, Remy would have given him both. So he did what he always did and took what wasn’t his, probably without asking.”

  From the corner of his eye, Nick saw Adele’s eyebrows shoot up at his turn of phrase, but he ignored the questioning look and continued. “But I’m certain he knows she is part of my crew and that, Adele, is why we must find her. Because what she is, what she can give, and who she knows here is a dangerous combination that could be fatal to her. And, knowing Pan, once he has what he wants from her, he’ll dispose of her.”

  “Well,” Calum began. Because he was the tallest of the group, was able to have a better vantage point over his crewmates, and as such, tilted his head back slightly in order to look at the rooms that rested on the second floor of the inn. “What’s the plan?”

  Nick had been gently gnawing on his bottom lip, but upon hearing Calum’s inquiry, he released it and replied, “I’m working on it.”

  As naïve as it sounded – and looking back, yes, even Remy had to admit that her thoughts in regard to Captain Pan was rather naïve – that someone who cared about his appearance and his tea, she learned, and the shine of his boots would risk wrinkling his lovely tunic or injure his probably prized knuckles by harming her if she didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. The fact of the matter was that truly, Remy had not a clue as to where Nick was. She was actually hoping he would be here. Not, of course, in her exact position, tied up to a chair and suffering abuse at the hand of Captain Pan, but with better leverage, maybe even engaged in a fight with cutlasses or something. So whenever Captain Pan asked her – or, rather, demanded – where her precious Nicholas Grey was, she could not say. She was not trying to be difficult, though even she had to admit that seeing his ears get red was amusing until the back of hand connected to her cheek.

  She wondered, in one of her moments of reprieve, whether or not she would be as strong as she was now if she knew where Nick was. She would like to think that yes, of course she would, she would not betray Nick for the world. But the pain in her cheeks was now numb and her tears were stained to her face and she could taste blood, which was a rather unpleasant taste. And now, worst of all, she felt that familiar tingle of needing to relieve herself start to tickle, and she highly doubted that Captain Pan would care. Perhaps if she reminded him it would be all over the floor…

  “What are you?”

  The rough, rather impertinent voice interrupted her thoughts and slowly, much more slowly than normal, she shifted her eyes over to Pan. He was obviously upset that his efforts at extracting information out of her was not going very well, but also slightly out of breath. Probably he was questioning her about something knew in order to rest himself for a bit. But why he would be so tired, Remy had no clue. He looked fit enough, but she was now privy that appearances could be and usually were deceiving.

  “Excuse me?” Ooh, was that what she sounded like? Rough and scratchy and dry? It must be a side-effect of what Pan was putting her through because her voice had been pleasing and feminine. This was not permanent, was it? Surely not. No way.

  Pan clutched his jaw at having to repeat himself causing the muscle to twitch. “You,” he said. His own voice was ragged. “What are you?”

  “I am not certain I understand what you mean,” Remy replied. She was not sure if this was the correct thing to say, but she was not sure what else she could have said in its place, especially since she really did not answer his question.

  “You have yet to tell me what I yearn to seek,” Pan said. “I’ve gone easy on you, easy compared to what I could do to you. I really do not wish to get your blood on my clothes, so I’m telling you that for your own safety, you should answer me. The fact that I have to tell you this troubles me because normally, a woman is rather willing to tell me anything I want to know after a couple of slaps here and there. But you, you’re different. It’s in the way you breathe, the way you speak, the way that you are. I can see it on you. And I, I am not familiar with such a thing and I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.”

  He did not know?

  Remy had been certain that souls were able to comprehend that she was not one of them in that she was alive while they were not simply because they could hear her heartbeat. And maybe some of them could. But not Pan.

  Why not?

  Certainly he could hear the fear flowing through her veins, could hear her heart hammer against her chest. She was numb, her face slowly, tortuously throbbing – though, truth be told, Remy had been expecting much worse, especially after his threat before he began – and while she could not feel the pain now, she knew she would soon enough.

  And then, an epiphany struck her like lightning striking a lone tree. He did not realize that people like her could even be down here. Apparently, it was beyond his comprehension. As if he, and possibly the Magistrate, James Hook and even the Creator, were the only three beings more powerful than he. Why woul
d he believe that a girl no more than seventeen years of age had more power over him than he realized in that she lived while he was stagnant, trapped in The Underworld until he was ready to move on. She might be temporarily trapped against her will in his presence, but he was permanently damned here. It was she who held the ace up her sleeve, not he.

  But she knew she could not reveal it now.

  So, instead of telling him what he wanted to hear, a slow smile slid across her face – really, she must be losing her grip on her sanity if she was grinning like some sort of fool – and said, “I have no idea what you mean.”

  She knew the consequences of her words. She knew the pain she was experiencing now would be nothing compared to what he would do to her. But that look on his face – that shocked look that could not believe a girl defied him so blatantly and was rather amused by the action – was worth it.

  It was official: she had gone stark-raving mad.

  This only seemed to propel Captain Pan to lunge at her. He was going to hurt her and badly. Maybe permanently disfigure her. Bruise her face to the point beyond recognition. Something horrid. And Remy closed her eyes – snapped them shut, more like it, waiting for it.

  And waiting.

  And waiting.

  When she thought it was safe for her to open them, somewhat sure he was not actually going to strike her, she slowly released one eye.

  And what she saw caused all the breath to leave her body.

  James was there, holding onto Pan’s hand that had been raised, ready to connect with Remy’s face. He appeared to be holding the captain’s wrist in what appeared to be a gentle grip, but by the look on Pan face, he was in pain. Pain not even Remy had had to endure.

  Why was James here?

  “I told you I wanted her,” James said in his gentle, dangerous voice. He was speaking about her, Remy knew, and yet his blue eyes were only focused on Pan, who seemed to be having a difficult time standing up straight because of the pain James was inflicting on him. “And that I would deliver Captain Grey to you, did I not?”

  The only response from Captain Pan was grunting. Until James pulled even further on Captain Pan’s wrist, which caused him to howl in pain. Forget about being worried about getting Remy’s blood on the fine material he was wearing. James’s grip was twisting the sleeve of Pan’s tunic, guaranteeing wrinkles.

  “Yes!” the captain yelped. “Yes. That is what you said. Yes.”

  This seemed to please James because he loosened his grip on the captain, but only slightly. “Then why,” James continued, “is she here, tied up, with blood on her lips and bruises on her cheeks?”

  Pan did not answer and it was not because he was in any pain. No, if Remy had to guess, it was because Captain Pan knew what kind of pain he was about to face, and he was afraid of it. Too afraid to answer. Too afraid to explain his own wicked ways.

  “Answer me!” It was the first time she had heard James shout, his words sharp that even Remy flinched in response to it, as though he had pierced her with a blade. His handsome face contorted into something as dangerous and as frightening as his face, but did not deter from his attractiveness. She was not certain as to why he was rescuing her, but in that moment, she was grateful she was not the target of his anger.

  Captain Pan still remained silent, and Remy could not ascertain whether it was because he was a coward or quite brave.

  “You wanted Nick and you could not wait,” Akleksander answered for him. His voice had returned to its normal octave but that, oddly enough, seemed to make it much more cutting. “You were impatient. You had no faith in me.”

  “That isn’t true” - the first words from Pan’s mouth in a while, but they were interrupted.

  “Did I not give you an opportunity to speak just seconds before now?” James growled. “You, in turn, refused it. Now it is my turn. Keep your mouth shut.”

  There was no threat spoken, but it was there, clearly written in those eyes. Pan looked as though he wanted to open his mouth and respond, but he pressed his lips together, as if struggling to do so.

  “Now.” James released Pan fully and straightened up. It still shocked Remy just how tall the man was – he towered over Peter Pan by three inches at least, and the fact that his shoulders were so broad and his body so muscled just made him appear to be more intimidating. And those eyes, right now looking at Pan with such coldness… Even Remy shivered, but she could not explain if it was because she was intimidated or if it was because of something else, something much more dangerous.

  “You have gone against our deal.” It was a statement. A calm one. But those eyes, those piercing eyes - “Your soul belongs to me, Captain Pan. Leave. Now.”

  Again, it was obvious that Pan wanted nothing more than to stop, to argue, to explain, but he pressed down even harder so his lips turned an unseemly shade of white. With that, he headed towards the door, his eyes fixated on the new wrinkles that occupied his sleeve thanks to his actions against Remy.

  “Oh.” James’s smooth voice stopped Pan in his tracks. Remy saw the captain swallow as though he was unsure about what might happen to him now. “And you know where I expect you to be once I’m finished with her. If you try and run, you know I’ll find you. I advise you not to do anything… stupid.”

  And with that, Peter Pan quitted the room…

  …leaving Remy alone with James.

  And for the life of her, Remy could not deduce whether or not that was a good thing. On the on hand, James Hook had saved her life. If h had not arrived at the exact moment he had, she would be in an excruciating amount of pain , marks on her maybe beyond repair. She would not be able to end it either, for she still did not know where Nick was and she liked to think that even if she did, she would not tell Captain Pan, no matter what kind of pain he inflicted on.

  Yet… James Hook was dangerous. Remy knew that. It radiated off of his body and in his stare. He commanded it with merely his presence. He needed to say nothing. Even Nick, someone Remy believed was not afraid of anything, seemed to be wary of the ruler of The Underworld. And he was now alone with her, staring at her with those eyes that cut right to her soul. It was as if he could see through her, all of her deep, dark secrets his for the taking. And she was afraid she would offer them to him without a fight if only he would ask.

  Slowly, and with the grace of a ballerina, James slid into a kneeling position. His eyes never left hers. Despite the fact that Remy was sitting in a chair and James on his knees, his height matched hers.

  What was he going to do to her?

  What was he going to demand of her?

  He reached out to her. She wanted to flinch, wanted to back away. But another part of her wanted to feel him, to feel his touch upon her skin.

  And his fingers… his long, limber fingers that exuded such power curled around the ropes that kept her tied in her place. And he was undoing them. Surely he needed a knife or a dagger to cut through it.

  But no.

  There he was, undoing the knots that bound her to her place in the chair. Somehow, as he untied them, his fingers never brushed across her skin. It was as though he was intent on avoiding touching her, but why, Remy could not fathom. In fact, she refused to acknowledge the little pout of guilt rumbling softly in her stomach.

  When he finished, he stood back up. However, he continued to look down at her, continued to stare so blatantly…

  She forgot that she had to relieve herself.

  What was he thinking? What did he see when he saw her? Something that shined? A soul that was alive? Or more than that? A girl – woman – before him?

  Oh dear.

  What an embarrassing and unfortunate turn her thoughts had taken. Embarrassing, because after the ordeal she had just experienced, she really should be thanking the Lord she was alive and not trying to assign a proper color to James’s eyes and because she probably did not look her breath, considering her face was blotchy and flushed, she had blood on her lips and bruises forming on her face. Unfortunate, b
ecause even if she looked her absolute best, there was no way James would have any interest in her as anything but someone who gave life, or whatever the mythology over her being alive in The Underworld meant.

  What a silly, foolish thought. She should banish it from her head immediately.

  Why did he continue to stare at her so? He had yet to offer her his hand in order to assist her standing up. Instead, he blocked any sort of path of escape, unless she merely wanted to stand up, less than mere centimeters away from him, and Remy knew enough to know that she was not strong enough to deal with such proximity. She took her sore wrist in her hand and rubbed it softly, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain.

  And still he was staring.

  Remy could not take it anymore.

  “Why do you continue to stare at me?”

  She knew it was rude, especially after all he had done for her. But her emotions were not quite stable just yet.

  She watched as James tilted his head to the side, and his lip twitched up. It was the closest thing to a smile she had seen on his person.

  “I am trying to figure you out,” he said in his silky, soft-spoken voice. And then, causing the breath in Remy to simply vanish as easy as blinking, he leaned forward so their faces were too close for Remy’s comfort, and those eyes, oh those eyes, staring pointedly at her lips… What could he want with her lips, unless, perhaps… “We have much to discuss.”

  Twenty-Six

  Nick should have been happy. Ecstatic. Thrilled to finally get the opportunity to do what he’d been wanting to do for a very long time. But when Captain Peter Pan emerged from the backdoor of the inn, all the pirate could think of was that Remy was not with Pan.

  Which meant she was still missing.

  Luckily, Calum and Edward were quicker than Nick currently was, and it was not long before the two tall, lanky men had Peter in their grasp, unable to go anywhere but where his captors wanted him to. They brought the man – why wasn’t he struggling, Nick wondered with a slight frown – to their captain. The two women left standing on either side of Nick had their weapons drawn, just in case.