Remy pressed her lips together as her eyes filled with unshed water. She had been wishing she was anywhere else but at home, with her mother. She had ignored her, rolled her eyes, talked back. She took her mother for granted. And she missed her now. That was certain.
Before Remy could stop herself, her tears started to fall. Her makeup was ruined, her eyes were red. She missed her mother. She missed her father. As much as she liked Nick and the crew and sailing around on ships and not being responsible for anyone but herself, she missed her home.
A knock interrupted her sobs – she realized she was sobbing only when another noise interrupted her – but the door swooped open before she could rub the tears off her face. There stood James, and he looked devastatingly handsome that it almost hurt her to look at him. He wore a white tunic that clung to his frame and blue, high-waisted breeches. On his feet with ebony-colored boots so clean, she could see her reflection in them.
“You are crying.”
The words spoken together made sense, but James seemed confused at best. Remy blinked a few times in order to clear up her vision so she could see him better. He stepped in her room so he was able to close the door behind him; however, once he did so, he did not step in any further. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“Because I miss my home,” she replied honestly. Her tone was rough, soft, raw.
“You miss Grey and the Black Star?” James asked, tilting his head to the side. “The crew on his ship?”
“No,” Remy said, shaking her head. A couple of curls sprung loose from their confines and fell in her face as she did so. “I miss my home. That ship, your ship, this place… This isn’t my home. My home is still on earth, with my mother and my father.”
“Oh.” He still did not seem to understand.
“Don’t you miss your home?” she asked. “Before you died? Don’t you miss your parents? Your wife or lover or romantic partner?”
James snorted, his eyes flashing. “I have never had a wife, nor do I intend to,” he told her. “Forever is a long time when you can’t die, and commitment to one person for forever is practically impossible. I have not had a romantic partner that I can remember. Same with my lovers. My parents are dead, but I do not miss them. They are in their final resting place. I am happy they have each other and can move on.”
“So you miss no one?” Remy asked, her tone laced with doubt. Certainly there was someone who affected him in such a way that caused their lack of presence to linger in his mind. Everyone had, at least, one person that affected them in a special way. Even someone like James Hook. “Not even… Magdalena?”
If she caught him by surprise with the name, he gave no indication of it. Not even his eyes flickered.
“Magdalena is off doing something for me,” he told her. “If you must know, it’s to keep an eye on your beloved Captain Grey.”
“I do not love Nick.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted them. James smirked and Remy felt guilt seep into her stomach and take a tight grip on her, strangling her so she could not breathe. Regardless if what she said was true, it was none of James’s business. And it was something she was still trying to figure out herself.
Figure out, her mother’s voice tsked. The French accent was particularly thick, as it usually was when she understood something nobody else did. Her frustration would cause this little wrinkle over her nose – the same wrinkle Remy got when she was frustrated as well. You’ve already figured it out. The less you think about what you are saying, the more honest you are. Do not feel guilty for your feelings, Remy. You are entitled to feel whatever you want, no matter what.
“I shall make a note of that,” James said. Now his eyes were smirking as much as his lips were, and Remy found she was very annoyed by it. “It’s pertinent information.”
“It’s also none of your business,” she snapped.
“Then why share it in the first place?” He grinned even wider and she saw his pearly white teeth. “Tell me, Remy, do you miss him? Captain Grey, I mean.”
“I do not remember giving you leave to address me by my Christian name,” she said. “I find I am very tired. I shall lie down.”
“Are you… dismissing me?” he asked, taken aback by her words.
She wanted to smirk but she did not have the energy. “I am,” she said. “I apologize. My emotions are getting the better of me, and I would not want you to see me in a troubling time.”
James nodded, but the humor left his face. “I will leave,” he said. When he reached the doorway, he paused. “But please do us both a favor and do not feed me shit lies. Just because you are a woman does not mean you can hide behind emotions. You are stronger than that. And I want you to know that I know that. And I think you know that, too.”
Without another word, he left.
Eight
Magdalena knew Nick’s choices were not any of her business. Technically speaking, he was her captain now, and as such, she needed to follow him blindly, keep her mouth shut unless he specifically asked for her opinion, and most certainly not question his motives or his sanity. However, Magda found that all logic went out with the window with this particular pirate captain. As such, her feet began to move on their own accord and led her straight to Nick and the mystery woman he was speaking to.
“Nick,” she began but stopped. “Captain. Captain Grey.”
She flashed her blue eyes at the woman, hoping to get a good view of her face and commit it to memory. The woman was striking; everything about her face exuded beauty and grace. She had almond-shaped brown eyes with flecks of honey in them, a small, upturned nose, with a splash of dark freckles on the bridge of her nose. The only makeup on her was rouge on her lips – a bold red that caused her to stand out more than she already did. She wore a thin gold headband that wrapped around her forehead like a halo.
“Ah,” the woman said in her melodious voice. “And who is this, Nick? I did not realize you had more to your crew than the four assigned to you.”
“Magdalena,” Magda said before Nick could respond. “And I’m not officially part of his crew. I’m just here to…” She let her voice trail off. She wished James had given her some direction as to why she was here – or, at the very least, give her a believable lie she could provide those who questioned her presence onboard Nick’s ship.
“Hook sent her for some unknown reason,” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest. When Magda looked over at him, he gave her a shrug that seemed to imply he was not going to lie on her behalf and did not understand why she wanted to lie in the first place. “I don’t think she even knows why she’s here.”
“My name is Esmeralda,” the woman said though she did not extend her arm. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I believe you will have a positive influence on our Nicholas Grey. I’m glad you are with him, keeping an eye on him.”
“That makes one of us,” he muttered under his breath.
“Pleasure,” Magda murmured, her eyes still guarded, curious.
“I’m sure you have much to discuss,” Esmeralda said. “I shall leave you to it.” Her dark eyes refocused on Nick and glimmered with seriousness. “Heed my warning, Nick. It is high time you thought before you acted.”
Without warning, Nick reached out and grabbed Magda's arm and proceeded to lead her away from Esmeralda's knowing smirk. He kept quiet for the duration of their walk, which surprised her since Nick had a knack for always having words for every situation. They walked through a crowd of people, Nick skillfully dodging them so they did not bump into anyone. They dodged vendors and drinks, whores and fortunetellers, all trying to turn a quick profit and better their lives in whatever way they could. Some outright begged, but they were regarded as the lowest rung on the ladder. One only begged if one had no shame. If you could work or sell something, you were expec
ted to do it. Magda never thought about what she might have to do if she did not have a roof over her head or clothes on her back. She refused to worry about things that had not happened. As long as she kept her eyes ahead and her mind sharp, she would not have to worry at all.
Fairies were incredibly superstitious. They believed that merely thinking something was akin to creating a reality. As such, they were very careful with their thoughts and only projected positivity. It was why Magda kept her mouth shut most of the time. She did not want to bring forth a negative reality. Though she did go through a depression after losing her wings, she was able to bounce back to her usual self. She had always been quiet, not as peppy as fairies typically tended to be, but her thoughts were always constructive. She believed heartily in the adage 'where there's a will, there's a way' to the point of stubbornness.
"So lovely to see you, Tink," he said with dry sarcasm once they were away from the roads of Tenedor and closer to the quiet docks of the island. They were adjacent to a tall palm tree, their bodies hidden from view. Nick was positioned in front of her while Magda's back nearly touched the trunk of the tree. "Just thought you'd have yourself a nice little stroll in my direction? Just happened to overhear my conversation with Esmeralda? Hmm?" He took a step forward and it took everything in Magda to not to take a step back. "What do you think you're doing?"
"My job," Magda said. Her jaw was tight to ensure her tone came out strong though her insides were jumping like frogs on lily pads. "You're my captain. For now. You realize you're the most important man in The Neverland, correct? You ferry souls to their final resting place. The realms would not function without you. I know you think you're charming, but many ports here are calling for your replacement. I cannot count the number of ports you are wanted in now. There is no one law here. You could be killed in an instant with hundreds of people lining up to take over. I knew you were flighty but I didn't think you'd be downright stupid."
Nick paused, shifted his weight. He looked like he was actually thinking about what she said. Then, "You think I'm smart?"
Magda rolled her eyes. "Is that what you got out of my speech?"
"Of course not." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out at theses. The salt touched the air in a subtle way, making it smell cleaner, more fresh. “What I got out of it is that you’re worried about little ol’ me.” He grinned, causing his teeth to sparkle.
“You are important,” Magda reiterated, her eyes flashing a darker blue than the irises normally were. “Don’t tempt fate by taking that for granted.” She paused. “Why did Esmeralda condemn you here?”
“Are we sharing now?” Nick asked, the playfulness gone. His guard was back up. “I don’t have time for this. We have to get the potion.”
“What potion are you talking about?” Magda asked, knitting her brow together.
“If you’re so concerned about it, come with me,” Nick said. He stepped back from her person and spun around on the heel of her foot before heading away from town and further down the beach. Magda had no choice but to follow.
It took a good ten minutes of hiking down the beach, along the edge of the water, to get to where Nick needed to go. The sand was sticky and filled with pebbles, not soft like the sand she was used to, in both The Other World and her home with the fairies. There was a shack buried in the bushels of greenery, still adjacent to the water. It was less beach and more swamp now, with seaweed floating in the water and long, unruly grass that bent at the stem in awkward angles. It was heavy with humidity, even at night, and Magda felt herself start to sweat. She followed Nick closely, afraid to get lost in the shrubbery. Afraid of the unknown, vile insects waiting to leech onto her skin and take a bite out of her –
She felt a shiver of disgust slide down her spine and she jumped as though she could feel the dreaded tickle take from on her neck, one of the only exposed areas of her body.
“What’s gotten into you?” Nick asked, though he did not turn around to look at her.
Magda glared. “Nothing,” she snapped, and while she could not be certain, she was almost positive he was laughing.
After another ten minutes of stomping over high grass and walking through rocky terrain, Nick stopped so abruptly Magda nearly toppled into him. Luckily, she managed to catch sight of Nick just before he did so, so she was able to right herself before their bodies touched. She softly cleared her throat and looked ahead. There, in the shadows, amongst the tall, thick trees, was a small wooden shack.
“She lives here?” Magda asked, making sure to keep her voice down. However, she could not keep the disbelief out of her tone if she tried. She could not fathom why anyone would choose to live here.
“Yes, I do Magdalena,” a voice said from behind her.
This time, Magda did jump, and before she could stop herself, gripped the cutlass hanging from her waist and unsheathed it, ready to attack. A melodic laugh stopped her.
She knew that laugh. She had a laugh like that as well. All fairies did.
"Lizzie."
Magda blinked once, and then again. She hated to admit it, but her mouth hung open like a donkey's at the sight of her, and she had to take a step back, toward Nick, as though some kind of blow had knocked into her.
"You know each other?" Nick asked, furrowing his brow. He, too, looked perplexed at the situation, but he did not react as physically as Magda had.
"I see you've lost your wings as well," Elizabeth remarked, keeping her pale blue eyes focused on Magda rather than Nick. "How interesting that you've ended up under the care of Nicholas Grey though that is a phrase I use lightly. Our dear Nick has a problem with putting others before himself." Her eyes finally flickered over to him for the briefest of glances before fixing back on Magda. "Shall we go inside? I'm brewing tea and I remember cinnamon spice was always your favorite."
She did not wait for Magda to answer. Instead, she picked up her skirts and proceeded to walk around the dumbfounded couple and into her shack.
"You drink tea?" Nick asked in utter disbelief under his breath.
Magda shot him a snide look and kept her mouth shut. Fairies had exceptional hearing and she would not speak out of turn.
"What are we doing here?" she decided to ask as she walked through the doorway, with Nick following closely behind her.
"He has not told you?" Elizabeth asked, looking up from the rusted black pot places above a small, cackling fire. Magda flashed back to a memory but brushed it off before she could devote the energy to think on it. "He's here for my blood."
"You're blood?" Nick asked, aghast. His brown eyes shot Elizabeth a look, as though he had never seen her before, as though he did not know her as well as he had, as he shut the small door behind him. "You're a fairy?!"
Elizabeth allowed a small smile to touch her face. "I am," she said. "This must come as a shock to you. Truth be told, I had not planned to tell you at all. But seeing Magda at your side... Perhaps you do have a type, after all."
"A type?" Magda asked, offended.
"You're a fairy?" Nick asked again. "And you two know each other?"
Elizabeth laughed again though the proper descriptor was chimed.
"Sit," she commanded gently. She patted the small couch, standing behind it. If Magda did not know better, Elizabeth looked like a typical housewife, warm and welcoming, completely hospitable. "Let's talk."
“There is nothing to talk about, really,” Magda said, but she found herself sitting down in the loveseat all the same. Nick took a seat next to her, and because of how small the couch was, their arms were brushing. Magda did not immediately pull her arm away, but she pretended not to notice all the same.
“Actually,” Lizzie said, tossing her curly red hair over her shoulder, “we have plenty to discuss. I see you are wingless.”
“We are not friends,” Magda said through gritted teeth. Her entire body was tense, and she wondered if Nick could feel it since they were sitting so close together. “Just because I do not have my wings anymore d
oes not mean you and I are the same. I would never” - She cut herself off, unable to say more.
Lizzie furrowed her brow. “Because I sell my blood of my own choosing?” she asked. “Please, do not cast judgment on me until you have walked in my shoes.”
“I have,” Magda said, leaning forward.
“You have not,” Lizzie snapped. She turned back to the pot and carefully took it off the fire. “You just said because your wings were plucked does not mean we are the same. I was cast out by my family with nothing but the clothes on my back. I had no idea where I was going to go, what I was going to do. Until a boy took me under his wing.”
“There are no male fairies,” Magda said, her tone droll.
“It was a turn of phrase. He took me under his wing, let me in. Taught me what I could do with my blood. Showed me just how powerful it was to sell my blood of my own choosing. The type of lifestyle it could afford me.”
“Yet you live in a shack,” Nick said, his brown eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling. If it rained, she was almost positive Lizzie would have more than one leak on her hands.
“Who says I live here?” Lizzie said, shooting him a grin. Magda watched as she began to stir the contents cool, keeping her eyes focused on her task at hand. “Just because I brought you here during our little dalliances does not mean this is my place of residence.”
“You slept with her?” Magda asked, shooting her glare to Nick.
The Neverland Trilogy Box Set Page 31