She was an idiot. Of course, he was capable of love. Clearly, the fool was in love with Remy Cutler, or else he would not have gone through hell in order to find her. Perhaps she misjudged him. Just because he was a pirate did not mean he was not human. The man was a Breather; it was not as though he had died and passed on. And Remy was a Breather as well.
Magda paused as she let that sink in. Was that how the souls followed Nick? Because he, like Remy, was technically still alive?
But no, that wasn’t it. The souls did not clamor for him on land the way they did with Remy. There was something different about her, something special, that caused the souls to react a certain way around her. What that was, Magda intended to find out.
Her stomach scratching the walls of her insides caused her mind to stop in its tracks. It was a feeling she recognized but rarely felt: guilt. She felt guilty. She knew the only was assuage that guilt was through an apology, but she refused to say sorry to him. She did not think his ego would be able to handle it. However, she knew she had to say something lest the silence remain awkward and there was no way for them to carry on their conversation.
Not that Magdalena liked talking to him, but it was the easiest and most direct way to get answers to her questions, and she was starting to get used to his voice.
“You know,” Nick said, his voice low, barely a whisper. Magda felt every hair on her body stand straight up at the sound of it. It was not the voice that should be addressing her at all. Too intimate. Too alluring. It was the sort of voice appropriate only behind closed doors between lovers. And if there was one thing Magda was not, it was Nick’s lover. “I would think someone like you would withhold judgment. Just because I’m a pirate doesn’t mean I don’t feel. Just because you’re a fairy doesn’t mean you feel all the time.”
Magda felt her skin pale. Not just on her face, but the pigment of her skin that covered her body turned a sickly shade of white, and she had to clamp down on her bottom lip to keep from curling over the side of the ship and emptying the minimal contents of her stomach overboard. She was not one privy to such dramatic displays, but she could not believe Nick had said that out loud. And, not only that, but somehow, he knew what she was.
How? She did not have a clue. But she intended to find out.
“How did you” –
“I’m more perceptive than you think, Tinker Bell,” he said. Any look of hurt had completely vanished. He was back to his usual annoyingly arrogant self. Magda was upset with herself for feeling any guilt at all. "Perhaps I underestimated you," Magda allowed slowly. She did not like to allow him anything, but she figured she owed him this. She had been rather feisty with him, and if he did know her secret, it would be best to try and figure out how he found out. It was highly unlikely he would share that information if he was annoyed with her. Although, she could not appear too eager for it, either. She would not want him to dangle this over her head.
"Perhaps," he mocked, his lips curling up into an amused smirk.
His eyes continued watching her as she tried to figure out just how to ask him how he knew without coming across as desperate. He was amused, she could tell. With the way the sunlight hit his eyes and brought out the red in the irises and the way his lips appeared in its current shape, she found herself captured momentarily by his rugged good looks.
"You like me," he stated, his smirk growing.
"What?" Magda all but yelped. She never yelled. She was never shrill. Her face turned red at more uncharacteristic behavior. That, and he was right. As much as Magda did not want to admit it, she found she was getting used to being around Nicholas Grey to the point where she actually enjoyed it.
Well. Enjoyed might be too strong of a word, but it was not unpleasant.
"Yeah, you like me." It wasn't even a question anymore. He said it like it was a fact. Magda wanted to slap his face. "Don't worry, Tink. I won't tell. Can't say I blame you, though."
"Trust me," Magda said, turning her attention to the horizon. Her eyes needed something to focus on, something that would calm her insides down and return them to smooth waters. "If I was to like anyone, it would certainly not be someone who is clearly devoted to another."
There. Cold water on a hot day. She had broken their moment together, and Magda had not intended to do so. She was actually enjoying herself, enjoying the repertoire the two shared together. His brown eyes darkened, as though a door shut closed, and he took a step back from her. Nick’s smile disappeared though his face remained neutral. It was as though Remy broke whatever spell the two had been under, and Magda found she wished it had not been broken.
“Captain!” Adele had a knack for interruption. Magda was not sure if she was grateful for it or annoyed by it. “Why are we not on course?”
“I tell you where to steer the ship, Adele,” Nick said. “You do not question my orders.”
“I do when we have souls attached to our ship,” she told him, placing her hand on her hip and giving him a challenging stare. “If you could tell me where we were going, it would certainly help my steering.”
“I’m not sure if directions will assist your steering,” Nick muttered. Adele looked like she was ready to explode on him, but he quickly continued. “Tenedor, my dear. Tenedor. We are going to Tenedor.”
“Why?” Adele asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“I need to meet with someone,” Nick said. “Someone important.”
They had three hours before they needed to get the souls to The Crossroads. Nick promised to be back in one hour and refused to allow anyone to come with him. Magda did not like being forbidden to do anything, so she waited until Nick reached the island before getting Adele and Giselle to help her into a boat so she could follow him. Adele wanted to tag along, but Giselle managed to talk her out of it.
“We need to protect the ship and the souls,” Giselle insisted. “We’re already risking a lot being here.”
“I will ensure he’s here on time,” Magda promised, and she meant it.
She docked her boat and handed the dock master a couple of coins for his silence. From there, she took off in the direction she saw Nick head off in, thanking the stars she had the speed of a fairy.
It was not long before she found him. It was not in a scrag or an inn. Rather, she found him out in the open, speaking to a woman who appeared to be some kind of mystic. Magda held her breath, but she couldn’t overhear what was being said. She needed to get closer without being seen.
She looked around the environment. It was a loud, bawdy place, with girls in revealing clothing and men with jugs of liquor. It was noisy and lively, and Magda found she did not like it one bit. It was not because of the noise or even the people. She just did not like the lack of order here. She was not sure what to expect, and, therefore, did not know how to prepare. Her heart pounded against her chest, afraid someone would catch her by surprise.
She needed to focus. Her eyes took sight of a wagon filled with hay. It would appear a farmer was attempting to sell it to anyone who would part with something for reams of hay. It would also appear the farmer was very, very drunk. It almost seemed that the little money he made on hay went straight to the jug of liquor in his hand.
At least he was doing something beneficial; he provided her with a place she could hide while also eavesdropping on Nick’s conversation.
“I’ve found the girl,” she heard Nick say in his gruff voice. He was making an effort to make sure it was low, Magda noticed, so no one could easily overhear them. “I need to know how to get to The Other World without everyone realizing I’m a Breather, too.”
“You realize The Magistrate will kill the girl, yes?”
Magda narrowed her eyes to take in the woman Nick was speaking with. It was hard to see her – her back was toward Magda – but she had long, curly brown hair that flowed freely down to her waist. She wore clothes similar to those of gypsies – a high-waisted pastel skirt and a white shirt that revealed her shoulders. She could not see her face, but
her voice was smooth and soothing, like the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore.
“You know what it is The Magistrate wants. You know where the girl is and who has her. You know the danger you pose to yourself should you risk getting caught. This girl… Remy Cutler. Is she really worth all the trouble you’re going through her?”
Nick responded something, but a trio of bawdy gentlemen was yelling and laughing about something so Magda could not hear. She strained her neck to try and pick up the response but was not able to do so.
Not that his feelings regarding Remy mattered to Magda. It was the least important thing right now.
“Have you given any thought what would happen should your plan work, Nick?” The woman crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight. Magda noticed that she was not wearing any shoes. “Why did I condemn you to this life? Are you, yourself, learning the lesson you are required to learn? Because it sounds like you’re being the same Nick I ran into on earth. And if you remain the same, forever in The Neverland will be much longer than it should be.”
“I don’t care,” Nick said, and the determination was clear in his tone, in his brown eyes. Magda found that when he was not being charming or foolish, he was a sight to look at. She could not look away if she tried. “If it means Remy is safe, I’ll extend my tenure here. However long it takes.”
“I had a feeling you might say that,” the woman said in a flat tone. As though she, too, were exasperated with him.
Magda rolled her eyes. Get in line, she muttered in her head.
“Elizabeth has a potion for that,” the woman concluded. “But think, Nick, before you make any rash decisions. Potions always have consequences.”
Magda pressed her lips together. She had heard enough. Nick was trying to get a potion that would cause his heart to slow – or stop completely – without killing him in order to breach The Other World and rescue Remy. The only potion that could do something so dangerous and reckless and potentially life-threatening was fairy’s blood.
Seven
James’s castle was big but cold. Remy was still exploring all of it, and she had already been here for a few days. How could one person need all of this space and empty furniture by himself? In fact, if she was being honest, James did not look entirely comfortable in his residence. As per usual, he kept to himself. She did not even know if his room was in the same wing as hers was.
She was going crazy.
Her boredom hit its peak, and she had read so many books, she thought her eyes would fall out. After Pam had dressed her for the day, she demanded that her maid take her to James right this second.
“Mum, he’s quite busy” –
“No!” Remy exclaimed, much more shrill than she expected. She pressed her lips together and took a breath. It was not Pam’s fault that she was bored. “Please, Pam. I need to speak to him. He wanted me for some reason he has yet to explain because apparently I’m bad company or perhaps I’m boring or maybe” –
“Ms. Cutler?” Pam interrupted, looking at her with her wide, blue eyes. “Please, shut it. I’ll take you to him, but I cannot promise you he’ll actually drop what he’s doing to amuse you.”
“It’s been nearly a month, and he has yet to tell me why I’m here,” Remy said, the words tumbling out of her mouth the way leaves tumbled off the branches of trees. “He barely speaks to me. Pam, I’m going out of my mind. I need some sort of physical activity. I can’t keep sitting around, reading and writing mental symphonies!”
“You’re what?” Pam asked.
Remy did not hear her. “I would rather be arguing with Nick on his ship half the size of Hook’s in the blazing sun than sitting in my luxurious sheets, staring up at the pristine ceiling, counting down every second of the bloody day. I’m tired, Pam, and I hate it because I haven’t actually done anything worth feeling this way. Help me, Pam. Please, I need your help.”
Remy was certain her colorful eyes were ablaze with passion and perhaps a pinch of insanity that Pam took a step back in order to obtain space between the two of them.
“Let’s go, then,” Pam said. She eyed Remy one last time, almost as though she didn’t quite trust Remy to keep a cool head on her shoulders before heading out of the door.
Remy kept her eyes sharp, taking in everything, trying to memorize the route Pam took so she could go back to it by herself. The castle was built with stone, a dark slate color. It almost matched James’s eye color when he was upset about something. Though she wore slippers on her feet, there was a chill in the air that seemed to seep through her clothing until it reached her bones. She wished she had brought a shawl of some sort, in order to keep her arms covered.
“Wait a minute!” Remy exclaimed the instant the passed a full-length mirror.
The mirror itself looked somewhat out of place, considering James had not even hung pieces of art on the walls of his home. In fact, there was nothing decorative in the house at all, nothing that made it his home. In fact, it made Remy miss her father’s pieces of art that hung down every hallway, some paintings even hung in particular rooms. They were not by famous artists and did not cost much, but her father valued them, and that seemed to be worth something to him. Her mother had decorated each room to her liking, picking out specific rugs and wallpaper that matched nicely. Each room had its own theme, and her father even managed to pick a painting that went with his wife’s chosen theme. Their home was eccentric and bright, to say the least, but it always felt like home to Remy.
This probably did not feel like home even to James.
“Yes?” Pam asked, turning her head so she could lock eyes with Remy.
She was always polite, even when she was slightly annoyed and perhaps a tad frustrated. Remy had to hand it to the girl – if she had had that patience when she had been Pam’s age, she would have been the perfect child. Instead, she had demanded her way and refused to give in. She prided herself on being strong and holding her ground, but she realized now that she was being rude and closed-minded. She clenched her jaw and her heart hurt at the thought of her parents. She missed them and wished she could apologize for the liberties she had taken with them without so much as an appreciative word.
“I…” Remy’s eyes were drawn back to her reflection, and she made a face at herself. “Is this what I look like?”
Remy’s brown hair stuck up in every which way, and her eyes had dark rings underneath them. She had not worn powder or rogue in a while, and her hair desperately needed a thorough washing, as did her body. She purposefully ignored smelling herself, afraid of what the odor might be, and instead, tried to mask it with the sweet smelling creams and lotions James provided.
“Pam, if I may, I need a bath,” she said.
“I thought you wanted to speak to James,” Pam pointed out. Her voice was a little stronger the more she spoke to Remy, and Remy hoped that meant she was getting more comfortable with her.
“Yes, well,” Remy said, glancing at Pam from the corner of her eye. “I changed my mind. Aren’t I entitled to change my mind? And certainly you can’t expect me to speak to him looking like this? That would be akin to disrespect, Pam!”
Pam pressed her lips together, and Remy couldn’t be sure, but it appeared as though she was trying to contain a smile. Well, that was a start with her handmaiden. After that lecture, Remy wanted to make amends in some way, even if she didn’t exactly mean to.
The hot water licked her skin the same way a dog lapped up water on a hot day. Remy let out another moan of pleasure as she scrubbed the grime that had collected on her body off with the rag Pam had provided. Pam offered to bathe her, but Remy insisted on solitude. She needed peace and quiet in order to help her think. She had never been much of a planner. Instead, she made things up as she went along, adapting to whatever situation was thrown at her. Sometimes, it worked; other times, it did not.
Now, however, the situation called for more strategic planning. If she was to learn anything, if she was to gain any sort of trac
tion, it was necessary to consider all angles of possibilities. Also, she needed a sound strategy.
In a way, Remy was glad for the time she was able to spend alone on James’s ship and read. She learned more about him than anybody would have guessed. Given the fact that she knew he was a Viking and could speak the language, Remy could research Vikings in the makeshift library. It was tedious reading at best, but she had learned a lot, and one thing she knew would work in her favor was the fact that Vikings were red-blooded males. The liked all things feminine due to the contrast between the sexes. As such, she needed to look more ladylike than the majority of Magdalena’s wardrobe provided. One thing she could do was bathe. The next thing she could do was change out of the pantaloons and tunics she had grown accustomed to since her time with Nick.
Nick…
Remy shook her head. She could not dwell on Nick just yet. She needed to stay focused. Once she had the information she needed, she could start thinking about escape and returning to Nick. For now, she had to think about James, and figuring out the best way to seduce him without being obvious about it.
She made sure to wash with soap that had a scent that would linger on her skin long after she dried off. If he could smell her from a few paces away, it might draw him closer to her. If he got closer to her, she might be able to distract him. If she was able to distract him, he might not realize what he confessed.
But everything had to be executed perfectly. There was no room for mistakes.
Once she dried off, she would return to her room and sort through Magdalena’s dresses – assuming she had more than that awful purple one. She needed dresses that fit Remy’s body, that highlighted Remy’s perfections and hid her flaws. If she had an outfit that fit her in all the right places, James would not be able to best her again.
If her mother were here, she would have had the perfect outfit to draw the eyes to her chest. She would say that the neck and the collarbone could be just as sensual as her chest – maybe even more so. On a particularly important night like a ball or a debut, she might do Remy’s hair herself and curl her hair for hours. They would go over everything Remy would be expected to do in order to win over a gentleman or practice her demureness. At the time, Remy was bored to tears. At the time, Remy tuned her mother out and wished Beatrice was here because Beatrice would not talk all that much and Remy could forget that she was required to attend yet another society function.
The Neverland Trilogy Box Set Page 30