Remy pressed her lips together. She was not sure if it was the wisest thing to do – let The Magistrate in on her secrets. On her vulnerabilities. However, she was already a prisoner – again – and she could see no reason to hold them in. Perhaps The Magistrate could answer questions she had.
“Save for my first couple of months down here,” Remy said, “I have been under someone’s supervision. I’ve been a prisoner, a captive. Whether or not I’ve been treated well, treated with dignity and respect, I’ve still been a prisoner. The only time I’ve been treated with any semblance of an independent person capable of making my own decisions was when I was aboard Nick’s ship.”
“You are saying you do not want the position because it would part you from Nick,” The Magistrate said. Her eyes widened a fraction, indicating her surprise. “You are in love with Nick.”
Remy furrowed her brow. “I am not,” she said, her voice firm, her words true. “What I am trying to tell you is that I do not wish to be a prisoner anymore. I am fully capable of being free. Yet here I am with you, stuck here, unable to leave. If I were to take the job of ferrying souls, I would be trapped as well.
“You asked me why I hesitate in claiming this job when it would save my friends. I had a life on earth, you know. A life I’m still owed. As selfish as it sounds, I’m tired of doing what’s best for my friends and I want to do what’s best for me and my life.”
“Life in Neverland is impossible,” The Magistrate told her. She wasn’t being cruel. She was being honest. Remy could tell and she appreciated that. “There is no life for you here. I think, deep down, you know that.”
“I do,” Remy said. “Which begs the question – why would I choose to remain down here to assist you if there is nothing for me here?”
The Magistrate cocked her head to the side. She leaned in close to her so their faces were a breath’s caress away. “Because,” she said in a voice just above a whisper, “you will be here with James.”
Remy swallowed. She shouldn’t have, but she did. The Magistrate stepped back, her eyes sparkling with wonder. “Ah,” she continued. “See? You do feel something for the man, though I do not understand why. Although, perhaps it is not my place to understand.”
Remy clenched her jaw. She revealed her hand. The Magistrate knew her weakness. The only thing keeping her in The Neverland, the only reason she would ever consider staying her of her own volition, was James. Not anyone else. And The Magistrate knew it.
“I don’t particularly understand why,” The Magistrate continued, watching Remy’s facial inflections like a hawk, her lips curling up into a smirk. “James Hook is an animal at best, no matter how polished he dresses. But I will not judge you your preferences. Who am I to do that?” She began to back away from Remy. “This does put your plan of being selfish in jeopardy, wouldn’t you say?”
“And why would you say that?” Remy asked but she knew why. The Magistrate had something up her sleeve – she always did. There was no point in arguing with her about it.
“You know why,” The Magistrate said, putting Remy’s thoughts into words. Making them real. “If you promise to work with me of your own choosing, without me forcing your hand, I will ensure you through a blood oath, that I will not harm one hair on Hook’s pretty little head.”
Remy looked away. She could feel the anger in her eyes and was surprised she had not set this room on fire. “No,” she said finally, an idea forming in her mind. She made sure to lock eyes with The Magistrate to show the woman she was serious. “James can handle himself. You are no threat to him.”
The Magistrate’s eyes sliced through her like a blade – precise and deadly. “Watch your tongue, girl,” she warned, but Remy did not take the threat seriously.
“I want something else,” Remy said. The Magistrate’s look softened but only a fraction. “And if you go back on your word and it is not fulfilled, the contract between us is void.”
“And what is it you want?” The Magistrate asked, enunciating every word.
“I want you to deliver Peter Pan to me,” Remy said. “I want you to order to Pan to talk to me honestly – perhaps you know of a charm or a potion that could compel him to do so. I wish to interrogate him privately. Once I am finished, I want him to work for James. Whatever James wants, Peter will do it without question. He must swear loyalty and fealty to James. And then I will do your bidding of my own freewill. I will announce it at your Masquerade in three days’ time. I will swear it to you. But only if you hold your end of the bargain. Should Pan betray James at any point, the contract is void and I am free to do what I wish.”
The Magistrate smiled.
“We have an accord,” she said, and the two shook on it.
Eleven
Nick did not like Masquerades. He did not like debuts or parties or any social gathering that required more than a handful of people in attendance. He did not like faking smiles and forcing conversation in order to be classified as a good host. He did not like dancing with women so they would not feel left out. He did not like pretending to be something he was not.
When he was on earth, he came from an impoverished family. His mother had to sell herself in order to make ends meet, and that did not always guarantee food on their table and a roof over their head. He was recruited to the Royal Navy when he was young, but after stealing food for his family – besides his mother, he had a younger brother and sister – they withdrew their acceptance of him and threw him in jail with the threat of hanging him the next time he decided to break the law.
While in jail, he had a cellmate who was a pirate. Not an infamous one – Nick had never even heard of the man before conversing with him – but a good one. Apparently, Jack Butler had intended to get caught in order to execute this elaborate plan that would result in treasure, gold, and freedom for everyone currently being held by the Navy in this prison.
Nick picked Butler’s brain for as long Butler would allow. By the time Nick was released – thanks, in large part, to Butler – his head was spinning with the possibilities of what being a pirate could mean for his life and his family. However, when Nick returned home, his family was gone. They had been evicted while Nick had been in jail and no one knew where they were. He searched Port Royal everywhere – everywhere. It was months later when he learned that they died from consumption while he was locked away.
Looking back, Nick realized that that was the catalyst that pushed him over the edge. Not being there for his family, not helping the when they were sick, not being there when they died, pushed him to the edge. It did not matter that had he been there, he most likely would have suffered the same fate; he concluded life was not fair and if he wanted it to be fair, he would have to make it fair himself. His destiny was in his own hands. He made the decision to turn pirate – what did he have to lose, anyway? – and never looked back.
That had been years and years and centuries and centuries ago. Now, Nick was here, an another realm pirating in the afterlife the same way he had on earth. He did not remember missing earth but he knew he must have, at some point. But Neverland was his home now, perhaps because he knew his family resided in The Paradise, which was just a few days away. Of course, he was not permitted entrance until he was ready to transition to the other side, but it comforted him to know they were close.
When Esmeralda condemned him to an afterlife of forever ferrying souls throughout The Neverland, he did not think he would ever return to earth, ever return to life. He did not think he even mourned the loss because he was not truly living there. And, he realized, he was not truly living here, either, was he? He was doing exactly what he had been doing on earth. The only difference was, now he had a task he was compelled to execute, which he did execute to the best of his abilities. He had friends, he had lovers, but he did not have someone who was both.
Love came swift and hard to him. He thought he was in love with a different woman constantly. Either, she would reveal her true motives – she wanted treasure, she wanted to b
e with someone who had power – or his own feelings would shift and he realized love was not what he initially felt.
Those feelings were similar to what he felt for Remy. They came on fast. He thought she was different – and she was: she was a Breather, like him. Adventurous and obnoxious, selfish and stubborn, beautiful. He honestly believed it was different with her. And maybe, for a time, it was. But he realized, once she had sacrificed herself for his welfare, that he needed to love her in order to feel something different. He was using her. His feelings were genuine; he did not know what he had been doing. But once space was forced upon them, he realized that was it. She was his redemption, not the love of his life. She represented all he could have had, had he not been sent here, and all he lost. She represented a piece of his past he could keep in his present. She represented what his life could have been, not what his life was now.
And then, Magdalena – the sassy, feisty fairy James Hook had sent to spy on him – kissed him. And everything changed. He woke up. It was the worst thing that could have happened to him. He did not want to love a fairy who saw his flaws and pushed him to be better. He did not want to worry about the effort it required from him to give up so much of himself and put that into another person. Remy was safe. Magda was not.
Yet, that kiss changed him. He could not pretend anymore. Which was why he was so furious with Magda. Which was why he could not even look at her for the longest time. Because when he saw her, time stopped. He saw love for the first time, and it terrified him, especially considering she had the power to break his heart with mere words.
Luckily, he managed to get everything out. He told her everything she needed to know. More than anything else, she told him the truth. He did not apologize, except for how long he made her wait. He knew she did not deserve that and the fact that someone like Magdalena still waited around for him after all he put her through said a lot about her feelings for him. And, by some crazy stroke of luck, she loved him too. She still loved him.
The thought both liberated and terrified him because now that she was his, she was something he could lose. He did not like having things that meant something to him, that he could lose, because if he did…
He clenched his teeth together. It would be like his family all over again. Now that he had Magda, he would lay his life down for hers, no question. He would do so in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t think twice.
She was his weakness. He never had a weakness before. Perhaps Remy counted for a bit, but not like this. Not like Magda.
If anything happened to her… He refused to think about it. His long fingers clutched the rungs of the wheel and his eyes latched onto another part of the horizon. He refused to think about it.
Instead, he let his mind sort out how he was supposed to appear during the Masquerade. Which he was loathe to attend. He did not acquire an outfit for the evening the way both Magda and James had. He did not think he would actually go, especially if he did not have to. But since learning that Magdalena would attend, he felt he did not have a choice but to show up in some way.
In fact, there was something else that needed remedying, perhaps just as much as his lack of clothing. It was not something Nick liked to admit out loud, because it was admitting where he came from, how poor he used to be.
Nicholas Grey did not know how to dance.
James Hook had seen Magda and Nick talking. He saw her smile. He saw them kiss. He was almost happy for her, except his protective instincts kicked in and his brow hung low over his eyes. He trusted Magda to make the correct decisions for herself and her life, but he did not trust Nick. Never had, never would. First of all, Nick was a pirate and he had a reputation for bending the truth and manipulating it to suit his needs. One could not rely on his word unless there was a common goal, unless Nick benefited in some way.
Then he saw the look on Magda’s face. He saw her acknowledge his warning of taking great caution when trusting her heart with someone as slippery as Nicholas Grey. And when she gave him that soft smile, when she nodded her head once, he was undone. He had no choice but to trust her, whether or not he trusted Nick. He would not fault her for it any other way.
When she led him away from his prying eyes, he could only imagine what they were doing. He knew she was slipping him into her room, and even though it was still on deck, they had four walls of privacy so they could immediately resume what they had been doing.
His heart did this curious thing where it squeezed, but not with jealousy – he had no romantic feelings toward Magdalena, though he did respect her more than he respected almost anyone. It was longing. He was experiencing longing. Because he found he wanted what Magda now had. He wanted a partner he could look at with stars in his eyes, a hand to hold, a body to bury himself into.
Of course, he would not accept just anyone. He only had one person in mind and it brought up feelings he did not quite understand simply because he did not recognize them. He had never felt this way before.
He missed Remy. He wanted Remy here with him because he wanted to touch her and kiss her and be around her. He knew Remy must feel something for him in return; he could tell by the way she looked at him. Plus, she was such an easy read he would have to be daft not to notice.
However, something made him pause. A big something that could inhibit any prospect of being with her the way he wanted to. It wasn’t the fact that he had never considered being true to one person before. If he loved Remy, that would not be a difficult task in the slightest. It was not being vulnerable with someone, trusting her with his heart, because he would not fall in love with just anyone. He knew that about himself, at least.
It was the fact that their initial meeting was problematic when it came to the beginnings of a potential relationship. He had kidnapped her. He was indirectly responsible for Peter Pan’s abuse. He had power over her in a way that did not allow her to make free choices; rather, she made choices she was forced to. He did not want to begin a relationship until that was resolved. Until he, he…
Apologized.
And James Hook never apologized.
However.
He sighed through his nose and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes closed and he leaned back against his chair. His room was particularly dark, despite the brightness from the outside.
There was a knock on his door. Immediately, James straightened and turned his attention to his visitor. “Enter,” he commanded, loud enough for them to hear through the thick wood.
The door opened and Magdalena walked through. There was a faint pinkness to her cheeks – she must have been flushed and had it begin to fade – and there was an uncharacteristic smile on her face that she could not get rid of no matter how much she tried. And judging from the way her lips twitched, she was trying.
“Magda,” he said after she shut the door behind her.
“Captain,” she said. She walked up to him and without invitation, took a seat in the chair in front of him.
He snorted. “You know you can call me James,” he told her. “It’s just the two of us.”
“I know,” she said. “I just wanted to apologize for what you saw.”
“You mean between you and Grey?” James asked, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk. “No apology needed, Magda. As long as you’re happy.”
“I am,” she said, the smile returning to her face. “Regardless, that does not give me leave to be so public in my affection for him.” She curled a lock of hair behind her ear, which was a decidedly feminine gesture that James had to blink in order to ensure he was seeing things correctly. “I also wanted to inquire as to your well-being?”
James’s smirk deepened. “You think I am not all right?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“I think something is troubling you,” Magda said, and he could tell she was choosing her words carefully. “And I want you to know that I am here for you, if and when you need someone to talk to.”
James pressed his lips together, nodding. “I appreciate that, M
agda,” he said sincerely. “I find there are times I take you for granted. When I sent you to spy on Grey for me, I did so without thought to you. And I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel as though I were just using you without caring about you because I understand it came out that way.”
Magda shook her head. “No apology needed,” she said, and she was genuine as well. “To be honest, it was the best thing you ever did for me.” She smiled again. “And perhaps for yourself as well.”
A tiny smile teased the corners of his lips once more, despite his best efforts at attempting to maintain a neutral frown. He had not told Magdalena about his feelings for Remy, but there was a chance he was not as good at concealing his feelings for the girl as he had hoped. And, for some inexplicable reason, that was okay with him. It was all right that Magda knew. He trusted her more than he trusted anyone else and it felt good to not have to bear this burden alone.
“Perhaps,” he allowed.
Twelve
His hands start to undo the lace of her corset. Somehow, they’re skilled and nimble. He probably has lots of experience undressing beautiful women. She doesn’t want to think about those who came before. Before doesn’t matter. What matters is now. This moment between them. Together.
Her heart beats erratically. It doesn’t keep time like the steady beat of a drum. No. This is more like the rolling waves of the sea in a storm – choppy, jumpy, dangerous. She’s nervous. It’s hard to breathe. There’s a sharp pain in her stomach due to the hummingbirds – not butterflies; butterflies are too soft and gentle for how she’s currently feeling – crashing into her stomach. Every nerve in her body is on high alert and when his finger accidentally brushes her spine, she realizes his skin is magnetized, shooting sparks to her so they can dance in her orbit. She feels too much.
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