Page 32 of Lost Girl

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.

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