Page 24 of Stalking Wendy Darling

Huh. Maybe they were trying to get a rise out of me.

“I don’t see dear ol’ Hooky anywhere, so it looks like this gold is mine now. In the sacred law of the islands, finders keepers.”

“She’s got you there, quartermaster,” someone said good naturedly. Maybe Ramone.

Anton said nothing else, which probably meant he had thatpuckered asshole sucking a sour lemonlook on his face again. I snorted at the imagery and jumped across the last pool of green slush, landing in front of the crack of light.

I held my breath, excitement chasing through my blood, and squeezed through the crack. It was just wide enough to admit a person of a more portly nature, but we’d have issues getting the crates in. Ooh! We could make a human chain and pass gold from person to person. I was a genius.

Bright light hit my eyes, severe enough that I had to squint as I pressed through the crack, the sudden brightness sharp compared to the dim of the cave we just walked through. When my eyes adjusted and I saw the towers and piles of pure, gleaming gold around me, I let out a low whistle.

“Hel-lo, beautiful,” I greeted the treasure, my chest filling with love and greed in equal measure.

“Holy shit,” Joanna exclaimed when she stood beside me, her dark head tipped back to look at the gold that piled all the way to the ceiling. Hook was a fool for leaving this here. Anyone could come along and take it all for themselves.

I turned when Wynton ducked through the crack, straightening to cast an appreciative glance around us. “Wynton, we’re gonna need more crates. We can’t leave any of this behind.”

He levelled me with a look. “Don’t you remember what I said?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of all this gold! It’s singing to me.” I strode across a carpet of coins to the nearesttower, my heart leaping when I saw necklaces and circlets and wholetrunksfull of mysteries.

“You, my darling,” I told the treasure, “are coming home with me.”

“Beautiful teamwork,” I praised, watching my crew pass gold down the line to the crate Wynton held back in the cave, mostly because I didn’t trust any of the others not to do a runner with it and leave me and Joanna here. For seasoned killers and pirates of terrifying renown, they were superstitious babies. They were more scared of two women on their ship than the supposed sea monster who’d been circling our ship for the last two nights. Not that I’d seen even a glimpse of it. The crew were going mad.

“Oh,greatpass, Sterling!” I called out, watching the tall man spill not a single gold coin.

He saluted and accepted a huge orb from the stocky man on his other side, passing it down the line with impeccable form. Sterling was a beautiful specimen of a man, from his long braids, strong-planed face, and that lithe body. For a moment, I entertained thoughts of us two sneaking into my captain’s quarters together, but the little vision was ruined by the memory of Hook wrapping his hand around my throat, the look in his eyes fervent with violence and rage. A hot shiver worked through me, and I scowled.

He wasdead,dammit. Yes, it was a shame we never got to play before I murdered him, but it was too little, too late. I just needed my body to stop lighting up the second I thought of our fight across the deck of the Banshee.

“This one’s full, captain,” shouted a man with a grizzled white beard and a scar through his eye.

“Perfect.” I skipped down the line to inspect the crate, my heart overflowing with covetousness. “Great job, boys. Really stellar work. Maceo, Sterling, and I will help you carry it back to the boat.”

“If it doesn’t sink the fucking thing,” Maceo muttered under his breath, but in the weeks that I’d known him I’d found that to be pretty normal. Rain or shine, Captain Hook or Captain Wendy, that man was never happy.

“Keep filling up crates, gents,” I shouted as we three began towing the crate of gold back towards the cove mouth. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“In a jiffy,” Maceo muttered, fierce eyes casting judgement on me. It was an effect that would have been more impressive if he wasn’t glaring out from behind two curtains of brown hair I’d seen several times on singers and crooners passing through the Silver Isle.

“Nothing wrong with that word,” I chided, my mood buoyant. “You can express all manner of things with the word jiffy.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to jiffy myself,” Maceo grumbled, earning a swift grin from me and a rich laugh from Sterling.

“That’s the spirit,” I crowed, grunting when the weight of the crate tipped towards me and muscles strained in my biceps. I had it easy though; poor Sterling was walking backwards through the cave, dodging pits full of stinky sludge water and… was that a crab? Damn, if my hands weren’t both full, I’d have given Mr. Crab a little wave. He was so cute.

“Almost there, gents,” Sterling said, puffing hard breaths. “And uh, captain.”

“I’ll forgive that slight,” I said very generously, grunting as the weight of the crate dipped to one side, “because you’re pretty.”

Sterling gasped. “Hear that, Maceo, Fil? Captain thinks I’m pretty.”

Maceo’s expression flattened. “Go jiffy yourself.”

I snorted so loudly the sound bounced off the widening ceiling as we reached the beach. Oh, that word wassocatching on. Sweat beaded on my brow when we came out into the sunlight, and the bright light blinded me for a split second, so I didn’t know why Maceo spat a filthy, colourful curse for a moment.

By the time I squinted at the beach, light reflecting off the grassy hills that wrapped protectively around the Banshee, it was too late. Maceo, Fil, and Sterling dropped the crate onto the sand, and I did the same, reaching for a blade when I saw we were surrounded.

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