by Dee Garcia
Let go, I try voicing, but the words ring out only in mind. My lips don’t even so much as flinch.
“Wendy, listen.”
No, let go. Please.
“Wendy.”
No.
“Wendy.”
Let go.
“Wendy...”
“Wendy.” Tinksley’s voice meets my ears, snapping my eyes open.
Gasping, I shoot up from the ground, noting she’s much closer than I was expecting. She’s literally right in front of me.
“Morning, sleepy head.” She grins deviously.
This isn’t my room. I’m still stuck in this dark, dreary hole. “I’m still here,” I breathe, taking note of my surroundings.
“I would sure hope so. ”
“I had such an odd nightmare. It was scary and—”
“Nightmares,” she cuts me off. “They happen.”
A mere blink later and I realize she’s removed the large cuffs secured around both my wrists and my ankles. There’s a lingering ache from being confined for so many days, but I haven’t a minute to mull any of it over. She’s hauling me onto my bare feet, all but dragging me toward the stairwell.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my legs shaking with each step, muscles deep within sore from lack of movement.
“You’ll see,” she replies simply.
It’s not until my feet touch the first steps that Tavi’s voice rings out in my head.
When they take those shackles off, keep your mouth shut and cooperate. If that means lying to keep them happy, then so be it. And whatever you do, do not let them take you upstairs. If they get you out of this room, I won’t be able to get to you.
“Are you moving me to a room?” The panicked question resounds off the walls.
Tinksley laughs, the amused sound trickling upwards, swallowing the timid remnants of my query. “In your dreams, Wendylocks. Just keep it moving.”
“So then where?” I know the constant questions irk her, but I can’t help it.
Tavi...
“Are you hard of hearing?” She yanks me up the steps faster. “I said, you’ll see.”
“‘You’ll see’ never pans out well for me. The last time you said that, I got thrown in the dungeon.”
“Just shut your mouth and enjoy the change of scenery, will you?”
The urge to counter with something, anything to stall her movements is nearly impossible to tamp down, but I do. Not for her but because Tavi said I should, said I should cooperate as best as I possibly can to keep myself alive. Perhaps wherever she’s taking me is still accessible in some way or another. How I’ll get the message to him, I’m not sure, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I need to stay alert, learn all the twists and turns of this place in the event an opportunity to escape presents itself.
I won’t know where the hell to go, but anywhere is better than here.
At the top of the stairwell sits that door I remember passing through on the night we arrived. From there we make a swift right into the long corridor that also serves my memory, all wood panelling and gold details. The scarlet carpet leading the way feels so soft and plushy beneath my feet. Then again, I’m still slightly disoriented after waking so abruptly, and it could very well be that it’s been ages since I’ve felt anything that isn’t a rough stone.
“This way,” Tinksley chimes after a beat, guiding me toward a set of double French doors.
I don’t utter a word, trailing behind her in complete silence as I take in yet another change in the scenery.
A lush garden. It’s a gorgeous sight, breathtaking even. The flowers appear larger and more vivid than the ones back home, all the more fragrant, too, but again—my mind could simply be perceiving them as such.
Wendy. I can still hear that chilling whisper in my head.
Shivering through a hailstorm of goosepimples, I breathe through the renewed sense of panic that roils deep in belly, inhaling the potent scent of salt water along with it, and keep trudging on behind my immortal captor. But the further we trail without knowledge of where I’m going beckons fear to the forefront of it all.
Calm, Wendy, keep calm, I remind myself, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Eventually, we make it to what appears to be the end of the garden. The wrought iron gates that lead out to the beach are wide open, a dock laid out near the shore.
And along its expanse sits this grand ship, one I’ve only ever seen in story books.
“What is this?” I question, the pulse in my neck banging against my skin.
While majestic in its own right, it’s also dreary, scary, a torn ebony flag with a skull and crossbones waving proudly from one of the masts.
“What does it look like?” Tinksley retorts, hauling me up the steps of the dock.
“A pirate ship?” A rhetorical question in a sense, because that’s clearly what this is, but she answers me regardless.
“Ding, ding, ding—we have a winner.”
“Is this Hook’s sh—”
Tinksley spins around in a nanosecond, teeth bared ever so slightly. “That’s Captain Hook to you, little Wendy. Be mindful of how you choose to address him.”
“I’m sorry”—gulp—“I just thought that since Peter—”
Her grip on my forearm tightens, eyes doing that flashing thing that scares the living shit out of me. “Don’t. Speak. His goddamned name to me.”
I swallow all the more deeper, stomach cinching together like a sodden towel. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” She smiles, and it’s nothing short of deranged. “You sure will be when your lungs start begging for air.”
I’m yanked forward again, all the way up the ramp of the ship and onto the deck as the meaning of her words dawns on me. My eyes bulge. “Wait, what?”
“See that plank over there?” She pulls me to her side like a ragdoll, pointing at a long wooden plank that extends off the deck.
Looming over the dark waters illuminated by nothing other than the full moon.
She’s going to make you walk the plank.
Instant terror seizes me at the thought. There’s no stopping it, no controlling it. My heart rate spikes impossibly more, bile shooting up my throat. “No, please, no,” I plead, shuffling backward in a feeble attempt to break free from her hold.
But I’m pulled back to her side as she nods. “Oh, yes. You’re walking it, Wendylocks.”
“But you need me alive.” I yank back a second time. “You want answers remember?”
“Answers you’ve refused to give every time I’ve asked,” she snaps, making quick work of winding both arms behind my back. “My patience has reached its end and the Captain is growing tired of my constant inquisition.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Tinksley, pleas—” My simpering plea’s cut short as she maneuvers and tugs what feels like rope around my wrists. “Please don’t do this.”
“And, yet, I have to. Who knows, once you make it to the other side, your precious little Peter might be waiting for you, and then you can live happily ever after.” There’s a bitterness to her tone, one I don’t think was meant intentionally.
Or maybe it is?
After all, he robbed her of so much. He may not have physically made her what she is, but he played a huge role in it.
“I don’t want a happily ever after with Peter. I want to live!” I need her to know that I don’t want him, either.
“Well,” she pushes me forward, “you can’t live here. You don’t belong here.”
“Then take me home, please. You’ll never have to see my face again.”
“Why should I let you go when you’ve done nothing but lie? Had you cooperated perhaps you wouldn’t be in this predicament, now would you?” Another shove, a forceful action that trips me over my own two feet. She catches me before I hit the deck, but somehow keeps me moving with her determined strides.
Every step forward matches the frantic beating of my heart.
“I’ve told you a million times!” I wail, tears stinging in the back of my eyes. “I’m not lying, I never was! Peter didn’t ever speak a word about you or this place. All he said was—”
“Just walk the plank, Wendy. This is the end,” Tinksley grates as we come to stop before the plank.
From here I can see just how dark the waters are. I’m sure in the light of day they’re crystal clear, a luscious teal like the adverts you see in magazines, but right now, they’re pitch black. The surf is calm, only a slight ripple distorting the surface from the breeze now picking up speed.
That’s my destination.
Where I’m going to die.
And here I was all along thinking I’d die in that dark hole. In this moment, I’d rather there than here. Drowning is one of my biggest fears.
“Tinksley, please,” I try again, unable to hold back the tears that spill over my cheeks. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“Walk, or I’ll drag you and toss your whore ass overboard myself,” she deadpans.
The extent of my fear means absolutely nothing to her. She couldn’t care less that she’s bound my hands behind my back and is subjecting me to such a harrowing death.
“Please. Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything you want,” I plead, voice clogged with clear emotion. Despite knowing I shouldn’t move, I can’t help myself from spinning around to meet her awaiting stare. Maybe if she sees me, she’ll—
The look she gives stops me in my tracks and freezes every thought speeding through my mind. In nothing but a second flat, I watch her expression darken in the same way it did the night she killed Peter.
Terrifying. Lethal—this is Tinksley in her true monstrous form. Her eyes don’t glow in this state for there is nothing to glow. Everything, including the whites of her eyes, is blacked out. Her fangs have elongated, the sharp tips dripping with what I can only assume is a venom of sorts.
“I SAID WALK, WENCH!” she roars, shooting my shoulders up to my ears.
The way her chest heaves with each breath tells me she won’t be contained to that spot for long. Either I drop myself on death’s doorstep or she’ll do it for me.
Does drowning hurt? Will it be quick? Will death, at the very least, be peaceful? Will I be reunited with Papa and Granddad?
These are the things flitting through my mind as I inch across the plank, keeping my eyes trained forward. I don’t want to look down, don’t want to see the ebony surface that’s about to claim my life as I sink to its depths. No, I don’t look down at all. I focus on the clear night sky and it’s twinkling stars, on the coolness of the wind that wisps through the wild strands of my hair. From my peripherals, I can tell I’m far from the ship now, probably reaching the end of my—
The next ten seconds happen so quickly, I almost think I’m free-falling toward the water, vision blurred from the flash of movement, until I find myself upright on the deck once more.
“What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” Captain Hook’s voice booms, his arm unwinding itself from my body.
Tinksley’s features have returned to their normal state, and while he’s asked her a question, she bypasses it in entirety, eyes wide in disbelief. “How did you do that?”
I glance up at the man who just saved my life and watch his dark brow quirk. “Do what?”
“You flashed with her off the plank,” Tinksley explains.
Hook’s lips curl in a smirk. “You can indeed flash with a mortal in tow, short distances only, though, my love.”
“Oh…” her pouty lips form a perfect O as she processes what he’s just shared with her.
“Now tell me,” he starts again. “What the hell is going on? What is all of this?”
And by “this”, I guess he means me.
Tinksley’s expression darkens anew, but it’s more devilish and playful than anything else. “Ending our pesky little problem, love. That’s all.”
“What happened to needing answers?”
“Well, you said you were tired of me wasting so much energy on her, and after giving it some thought, I can see you’re right, so I’m taking care of it.”
“This isn’t what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“It doesn’t really matter right now to be perfectly honest. There’s far bigger matters at hand that need our attention,” he states, cocking her head aside.
“Like what?”
“Like your father waiting at the front doors.”
“My father?” She sounds both awed and disgusted all in one go. “He’s here?”
Hook nods. “He surely is, all but banging down the door in search of your mother.”
Tinksley scoffs a laugh and rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t want to see him.”
“Which is exactly why I said there’s bigger matters at hand. I need you to attend to him and get him the fuck out of here. Your mother made it quite clear she has nothing to say to him.”
They exchange a look amidst a brief bout of silence before these piercing tropical irises cut my way. “What about her?” she asks, tipping her chin at me.
Hook waves her off and sets a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. I’ll take care of it.”
She doesn’t question him, at all. A quick peck to his lips and then she’s gone, disappearing from sight faster than my brain can process.
It’s not until I feel the squeeze to my shoulder that I realize it’s just Captain Hook and I.
Another vampire.
One who broke into my home, fed off of me, and forced me to watch Peter’s murder unfold.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he states, as if somehow reading my mind.
He’s been nothing but docile since bringing me into their world, but I’m not convinced. I don’t trust him or any of their kind. Both Tinksley and Armand taught me such a lesson.
But he just saved your life.
Heart galloping, I crane my head back to peer up at him again. While his expression comes off as austere, there isn’t a threat behind it. At least none that I can see.
“You’ll have to forgive her,” he continues. “She’s not reprehensible by true nature. Tinksley’s always been a sweet, well-mannered girl. But she’s been through a lot, is still processing—”
“She almost killed me,” I interject daringly, completely bare-faced and shameless. Where that came from? I don’t know, but regardless of my tone, Hook’s placid demeanor remains intact.
“I know” he sighs, “and I’m sorry you had to live through that fear, even if it were short-lived. Please try to understand, though—transitioning into an immortal is never easy. There’s choices to be made, a former version of yourself you have to part with and grieve. Tinksley’s had to deal with that in a double dose.”
“It still doesn’t excuse her behavior when I’m innocent in all of this. I did nothing, knew nothing, yet I’ve been dragged here and made a prisoner. And all for what? Answers that I don’t have?”
Hook appears to be at a loss, releasing another tired, almost remorseful breath as he hitches a shoulder and gazes off toward the palace. “She just wants closure, I guess. I don’t know, honestly. I thought seeking out her revenge on Pan would calm her mind, but it’s done the opposite. The Fae are unpredictable creatures, Wendy. They’re cunning, vengeful, easily exacerbated beings. Tie that in with the impulses and desires of a vampire and, well, you can see what that’s culminated.”
My heart breaks for her and a part of me hates that it does after all she’s done to me. But that’s the difference between Tinksley and I.
I’m human.
I’m an empath, too.
I hate to see others hurting, in any form.
“Let’s get you back, shall we?” Hook asks suddenly, dropping his stare upon me.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“W-where?” I stammer.
“I can situate you in a room, if you’d like. Should be more comfortable tha
n stone and concrete while I find a way to get you home.”
If you could only understand how badly I want to believe him. The man couldn’t look or sound more sincere should he try.
But I don’t trust him. I can’t. Vampires have made the last however many days of my life—I’ve lost count—the worst ever.
Worse than the day mum walked out on us and left me behind.
Worse still than when I lost Granddad, and Papa.
No amount of time will erase what I’ve had to endure. Sure, it’s hardly nothing in comparison to what some people suffer through when abducted, but trauma emerges as a different beast for everyone.
“The dungeon is fine,” I whisper, idly thinking how ironic it is that I’m fully and openly instilling my trust in another supernatural being. And I know even less about him. “I don’t need another reason to provoke her.”
“I’ll ensure it doesn’t. Probably should have seen to it sooner, if I’m being honest.”
And whatever you do, do not let them take you upstairs. If they get you out of this room, I won’t be able to get to you.
“It’s fine, really,” I all but rush to say it as Tavi’s voice rings out in my mind again. “Should you convince her to let me go home, where I am in your home won’t make a difference. The more level-headed we can keep her, the better my chances should be, right?”
“Yes, perhaps so. I refuse to shackle you, though. She was meant to remove them anyway.”
“I’d actually really appreciate that. They really took a toll on my skin.” There isn’t a single mark on me, but I rub at my wrists, and it’s not for mock emphasis.
The ache is still quite deep.
Thankfully, Hook kept his word. We didn’t exchange much after that. He simply escorted me back to my hole in the ground, and went on about his evening. I have no doubts that door at the very top of the stairs is locked, but at least I’m not at the mercy of those chains anymore.
Should make Tavi’s job a hell of a lot easier.
If he actually comes back for me, that is.
♫ El encuentro - KUXTAL ♫
The plan is officially set.
I’m getting Wendy out of there in two short days, and it isn’t a matter of can I.