“He was quite motivated,” James stated.
That explained everything and nothing. I demanded, “How did this particularly motivated trinket heal me?”
“That’s the part I think you’re going to be angry about.”
Chapter 18
Captain Hook
I was right. She was livid. Pissed.
Though, I couldn’t blame her. I knew she would be. Hell, I would have been. But we did not have the luxury of doing what felt right. It was a difficult decision, and I made it. Hell or high water, I would make it again.
“I told Deval that should you die, I would come for him. I don’t know what he told his monarch, but Kensington allowed the practitioner to heal you. No conditions.” I explained. “I was there the entire time, making sure Jukes didn’t do anything to you that wouldn’t aid in your recovery.”
I had expected her to yell. I expected her to release those tiny fists and slap me. What I didn’t expect was her utter silence.
And that scared the bloody hell out of me.
As certain as I had been with my decision, she gathered herself. Slowly her fists relaxed. One by one those fingers uncurled, yet the shadows in her eyes only seemed to darken.
“And Chaz? Did he experience a miraculous recovery as well?” she prodded.
“No,” I replied. “Kensington refused to let the practitioner heal him after I made the request for your aid. Peter’s friend still hangs on for dear life.”
“Always the strategist, that monarch…” she mumbled, and then uttered something incoherent.
I wasn’t about to let that go, not so easily. “You suggest he intends to keep Chaz alive but incapacitated?”
“What I suggest is that the monarch suggests a lot without uttering an outright command.”
What the bloody hell did that mean? “Further—”
“If you want further elaboration, you’ll have to ask Kensington himself,” she snapped, heading for the door. “Come. The monarch is waiting.”
“He can wait.”
Her response came back disconnected, hollow. “Like you eluded to—Kensington is a cunning man. The more time that passes, the longer he can think, and the more likely we will not enjoy the conclusion he’s come to in the end.”
She pulled back on the doorknob. I slammed it shut.
“I do not enjoy being trapped, Captain Hook.”
The fiery way my name rolled off her tongue was like a curse spoken in the night. The torture in her voice sank its claws into my soul, electrified my body. The detached, feared, and baited way she uttered it called to me. It promised of pain and suffering.
She hummed, amused with herself. Only she would find it particularly entertaining to infuriate me. And just as it ignited the fire within me, the way she said it made me believe I’d rather enjoy hearing her scream it, even if it was because we were fighting. Nevertheless, I refused to let her look at me with such disregard when I was trying to damn well help her.
“Say my name like that again, and I’ll use your God-given name, Tinker Bell,” I uttered, bearing down on her.
“Release that name into the air, I promise you will feel the fury that comes with it,” she said, the door suddenly turned icy against my hand.
The coldness wrapped itself around my hand so quickly it burned. My fingertips turned blue. In a matter of seconds, I swear she’d be able to shatter the door just by slamming it. Groaning, I pushed away and let her pass, even though we were absolutely not finished with our fight.
She strode out of the room, blowing by the guards. Christ, she didn’t even give them a passing glance. Like their position did not matter. Marching down the hall, she acted like she knew exactly where she was going, even though she’d been in and out of consciousness when I had carried her to the room so long ago.
I raced to keep up. Publicly, we needed to give the appearance that we were a united front. Letting others know we were at each other’s throats was poor form.
I said, casually, “You are familiar with this place.”
Her glare made my heart stutter. She didn’t utter anything out loud. She didn’t have to. That look explained quite clearly that small talk was not in order. Fine, we wouldn’t chitchat, but I refused to not walk beside her.
A hundred different things went through my mind when we entered the courtyard. The place fell silent as all eyes turned to her. If they weren’t looking at her with murderous intentions, they were possessive ones. Reaching for her elbow, I pulled her closer to me. She didn’t fight it, but she tensed.
I withdrew the dagger I’d plucked from Mario and slipped it into her hand. Her hand tightened until she realized I hadn’t meant to hold her hand but rather give her a weapon. She tucked the knife in her waistband.
“The monarch is most likely in his chambers, Miss Bell,” I said, keeping my gaze on everyone who dared walk too close to us, to her.
“No, he’s not.”
She paused, twirling around, searching for something or someone. Bell was not one to speak lies, but she didn’t always utter the complete truth. Smacking her lips, she raised herself up onto her toes.
No matter how deep her fury went, the tug on her mouth illustrated her pleasure. She moved more naturally than she had in months. Her shoulders were more set back, her chin held higher.
My God, she was quick.
I’d forgotten how fast she could be for such a little thing. She’d taken off in the direction of the mountains. I had to lengthen my step to keep up.
She stormed to the base of the mountain. The platform we’d fought on was no longer a ledge. The silvery pool she’d created spilled out, dripping down the side of the mountain, gathering at the base.
Sure enough, there was the monarch, standing next to his practitioner. Kensington stood, gripping that diamond tipped cane in a similar manner in which I grabbed the hilt of my sword.
I wasn’t about to ask Bell right now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was more to that weapon than met the eye. He carried it like he needed it. And while his leg had been injured in the physical disagreement we had, I didn’t see any hint of a long-standing limp.
Jukes, the gigantic, cursed doctor, turned to us and nodded as a form of a welcome. Bell didn’t bother acknowledging his presence. She simply stood next to the monarch. I tugged her next to me after Kensington’s glare slipped over her.
“You made a mess of my estate,” Kensington said, nodding at the silver pool.
Bell giggled. Though, this time it didn’t carry humor so much as it did her mischievous laugh. She quite literally walked up to the royal of the estate and laughed in his face. Christ, the way she conducted herself was something else.
“Life is messy,” Bell stated, casually dipping the tip of her boot into the pool. “Particularly messy when you threaten my life or the lives I hold dear.”
“This is spreading,” Kensington stated firmly, but his nervous tick of tapping the cane gave him away. He was more than annoyed by it. “It certainly will become a nuisance to deal with.”
She might not like him, but observing how she carried herself around him and that her voice wasn’t thick with disdain, I knew she respected him. He was a force worthy of hers.
“I’ve heard I can be quite a pain,” Bell chuckled and dipped the tip of her other boot into the pool. “Consider it a reminder. Threaten me, Captain Hook, or anyone else I care about and deal with the wake I leave.”
Kensington inclined his head in my direction when she stated her new favorite nickname. I raised an eyebrow, as if to challenge him to demand more details about our epithets for each other. She clicked her tongue at the top of her mouth like she was counting the seconds until I lost my cool with her.
“I’m sure we’ll find it to be of value,” Jukes muttered just as I gripped the hilt of my sword.
Kensington raised his head upright. “So, you’ve found a way to stop the spreading?”
Jukes chuckled, revealing his tattooed tongue. Blimey! I hadn’t
expected that. Vile man, if one could even call him that. The beast was covered in tattoos which made him take on the appearance of a rabid animal more than a human. But I restrained myself and kept the repulsion off my face. He did save Bell when his monarch asked.
“Stopping it from spreading is one way to manage it,” Jukes carried on. “But harnessing it will prove to be much more impressive.”
“Then impress me,” Kensington challenged.
“In time,” Jukes said, his gaze falling onto Bell in a possessive manner that did make me tighten my grip on my sword. “Black magic does not like to be tamed in any of its forms.”
“I wonder how they’d enjoy being kicked in the side now,” Bell pondered, clearly not participating in our conversation. How she could derail, lose herself in her thoughts in the middle of conversing, piqued my interest in her. She never ceased to compel me, even in the littlest of things.
Her attention to her silver-tipped boots was innocent in nature—until I saw the demonic spark shining through her smile. She hummed a slow melody as she touched the silver and rubbed it between her fingertips. She inclined her head and then blew lightly. Silver powder floated in the air, hanging only but a moment before hardening into small stones. She chuckled as they splashed. I sincerely wanted to know the evil thoughts crossing her mind as she laughed.
Suddenly, she looked back down at her boots like a magnificent idea just spurred. The silver drizzled down the fronts. As it dried into a hard shell, she mumbled something brass about mermaids.
“You seemed to have recovered well from your injuries,” Kensington noted. “Although, I had no doubt you’d manage to regain your strength and well-being.”
“I was unconscious,” she groaned. “My captain arranged my recovery.”
“Oh?” Kensington said. “I was under the impression that Jukes was simply keeping you alive so he could collect what was taken from him.”
I didn’t believe it for a second. Jukes was there when he demanded payment of the tear for the practitioner’s assistance. Deval had convinced Jukes to help Bell. Too much seemed to be coincidental. He shouldn’t believe it so willingly, I wouldn’t have. That raised my suspicions about him.
“Chaz still suffers,” I mentioned.
Kensington tapped his cane on the ground. “It is difficult to watch a man in agony.”
“Especially when Jukes could aid in his recovery like he aided in Miss Bell’s,” I pointed out.
Kensington looked at Bell who was quite preoccupied with the silvery pool rather than my inquiry about the barbaric man. “Yes, that does make my decision to keep his recovery on track even more difficult. It was quite difficult to explain Bell’s recovery when my own subject lay ill. I had to move him to isolation so that few people could see him suffer.”
“And you say fairies speak half-truths,” Bell interjected but did not take her eyes off the pool like there was something majestic about it. “What you really mean to say is you don’t want people knowing where he is located, nor do you want him in full strength.”
“Why?” I asked outright.
Kensington turned his full attention back to me. “Captain, please. Surely you understand my predicament.”
He hid Chaz from his subjects. He kept Chaz debilitated, yet he wouldn’t kill him either, even though his loyalty was with Peter. “You are keeping him hostage.”
Kensington smoothed out a wrinkle in his sleeve. “I am keeping him alive.”
“That is quite a political answer,” I replied.
The monarch chuckled, covering his laugh with a cough. Before I could inquire more, he changed the subject. “I’m glad to participate in an alliance with the practitioner and a fairy. I assure you that hasn’t happened in centuries. It’s quite historical.”
“We share a common enemy,” Bell quipped. “We are united in our hatred, nothing else.”
“Hatred changes people. And now you are to gather the alliance of the mermaids,” Kensington carried on like he hadn’t picked up on that exchange.
“How do you intend to go about that?” Kensington asked.
“Leave those details up to me,” I stated. The less he knew the better.
“Very well,” Kensington replied and raised his chin high. “Be off with it then. We have much to do to prepare.”
This was easy. Too easy. I hesitated to leave. Bell didn’t. She turned around, brushed past me, and tugged on my hand like we needed to leave—immediately.
I followed, but Kensington stuck out his cane in front of me before I could take a step. “You may have plans for the mermaids, and it is quite clear you want to keep me from knowing exactly what those plans are. That is your prerogative. However, I am not a man to double-cross, sir.”
Not sir. “Captain,” I corrected.
“Very well, Captain. My men will escort you to the Mermaids’ Lagoon to observe your meeting. You can certainly understand I’ll want a report from my loyal lieutenant, Deval.” Sarcasm echoed on the mention of his subject’s devotion to him.
Kensington may play a fool, a distant ruler, but there was the cunningness I expected to see. Pressing my leg up against his cane, I pushed it out of the way. The diamond tip dragged on the ground, making the most unnerving sound.
“Let Deval choose who he wants to accompany you. He has so many loyal followers, I’m positive they will not let him cross Hangman’s Forest alone,” Kensington mocked.
That humor revealed so much. He knew Deval was a problem but he wasn’t about to dirty his own hands in dealing with him. No, he’d let others do that for him so he was able to keep up appearances that he was a kind and just ruler. I was beginning to understand how he managed to rule for so long. Dare I say, I respected him a little more for it?
“Try not to kill Deval. I’d hate for either one of us to slip up on our agreement.”
“But the other men? His followers?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. So much went unsaid. But much wasn’t needed to be stated.
“What about them?” he asked.
“If they should get hung up in the forest…” I said, nonchalantly.
“Then that would be a pity for Deval, I suppose,” Kensington replied. “I’d even go so far as to say it’d strengthen our alliance.”
“If more were to get…strung up, that would only make them hate the captain and me more,” Bell stated, picking up on Kensington’s hint to take out some of Deval’s followers.
“They already hate you,” Kensington pointed out.
“I’d rather not inspire hatred in men,” Bell replied.
Kensington’s expression hardened. His body tensed. Yet, when he spoke it was casual but cold. “That is our fate, Bell. We inspire hate, corruption, greed, and violence. It’s who we are. It’s in our bones.”
Bell reasoned, “While I have no qualms defending myself or doing what I must to survive, I’m not a cold-blooded murderer. Not anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter what name you go by, Bell.” Kensington snickered. “You cannot run from who you are.”
Chapter 19
Miss Bell
I couldn’t outrun my past, but that didn’t define my future. My heart hammered in my chest. My pulse drummed in my ears, drowning out all the sound around me. Everything around me faded into nothingness. I wanted to tell Kensington off. I wanted to tell him he was a liar, that I had changed, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter a word out loud. I didn’t know if that meant I hadn’t changed, or if deep down I didn’t believe it myself.
“I don’t believe it,” Deval said, crossing his arms and planting his feet to the floor.
“Then ask him yourself,” James challenged, leaning against a marble wall, watching Deval digest the information that his monarch was sending him back into the forest as it was the fastest way to the Mermaids’ Lagoon. “He and Jukes are examining the pool Miss Bell left in her wake. Ask him if you must.”
“Merde,” Deval snarled and stormed off, leaving James and me alone.
The hallway separated us, but the distance felt greater. Six tiles separated him from me. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to cross one. It would have been admitting defeat, admitting I was wrong. Well, I wasn’t wrong to be upset.
He’d taken what was mine and did whatever he wanted with it. Though, I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a Goddamn pirate.
“You’re still mad,” he acknowledged.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You do realize we’re going up against a condemned crew, whose souls I plucked from their bodies, making them immortal? We’ll likely need a thousand mermaid tears just to survive.”
He crossed his hook and hand over his chest. Tapping the tip on his forearm, he stared down at me. His expression hardened. His jaw set, his brow furrowed, and the menacing glare in his eyes made it impossible to breathe under his scrutiny.
“If we cannot survive, then let us simply leave,” he stated. His voice echoed down the hollow walls.
“It’s not that simple,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air only to let them fall by my sides.
“Yes, it is,” he challenged. “We find fairy dust and leave.”
“Don’t you get it? No one has any left!” I screamed, fighting back the tears. “If you want to leave, you’ll have to grind my bones to dust! And even then—”
His face paled. I snapped my mouth shut. I didn’t want to get into this. Not now. Not ever. And I would keep everything about this horrible, sick joke of a curse a secret for as long as I could.
“Miss Bell, I’d never dream—”
“Just stop it!” I screamed, facing him again. “Just stop all of this. Stop pretending you wouldn’t be better off without me.”
His eyes narrowed. He pushed off the wall and strode toward me. He placed his hand on the wall beside my head. “Where is this coming from?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” I yelled, hating that I was screaming at him, that I was taking my aggression out on him. “You would not even know me if I wasn’t hunting your father all those years ago.”
He tried to comfort me, but I slapped his hand away. The sting in my heart hurt worse than the one in my hand.
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