Page 23 of Stalking Wendy Darling

I threw my arm over her shoulder, the warmth of her a comfort that made me murderous to think I’d almost lost her. “We’re gonna be rich, Joanna. Filthy, filthy rich.”

“Actually,” Wynton remarked, stopping at my side with a little smirk and his braids pulled into a neat knot on the back of his head, “most of the money from the gold usually goes into upkeep of the ship. And if you want my unsolicited advice—”

“I appreciate the balls, so you may continue—”

“I wouldn’t take more than we need. Sticking around too long is never a good idea in this place.”

I tilted my head, looking at the man head on, honestly a bit confused that he wasn’t pissed at me for drugging him or taking over the ship. “Why?”

“We’ve heard strange sounds from the forest that hugs the beach.Lotsof strange sounds. A pack of wolves is my closest guess.”

“I like wolves,” I said brightly, peering at the huge, leafy trees that spread up the hills around the cove. They could have hidden a dozen different packs. I probably shouldn’t have been excited by that, but I’d already killed my enemy and made myself captain of his ship. Why not guardian and commander of wolves, too?

“Oh notthatlook,” Joanna groaned. “That look always gets us into trouble.”

“It does not,” I protested, admiring the hive of activity around us as my crew unloaded empty crates from the small rowboats we’d used to board the beach in front of the treasure cave. “I’ve neveroncegot us into trouble.”

Wynton snorted, which was a little rude. I gave him the finger, which only made him laugh louder.

“Remember that time the pubs shut because of a diphtheria scare, but you convinced us to break into the back room, fill a bucket with ale, and sneak it back to Mama’s? You had that same look on your face then.”

I prodded Joanna’s ribs and strode towards the cave. She was right. As captain, Ishouldget first ribs. But I glanced back to Wynton, because I was trying to be sensible and it seemed like a sensible thing to do. “Anything nasty I should know about before I go in this place?”

“It stinks,” Wynton offered, “and the rotten water will get in your boots no matter how quality they are. Other than that? We were always in and out too fast to find an issue.”

I nodded decisively. In and out fast. Got it. I could do that. I wouldn’t get distracted.

I couldn’t help but notice no one rushed forward to help me as I strode into the archway of the cave, but that was fine. My crew were assholes still loyal to a dead man. They’d learn I was their best option when I had gold. Lots and lots of gold.

I imagined the look on Mama’s face when I returned with a golden crown fit for her head, encrusted with rubies and spinels and emeralds. She’d give me that wicked grin that made her cheeks go round and her eyes glimmer. Mama deserved the whole fucking world for taking in wastrels and orphans like me, and the least I could do was give her a fancy ass crown.

Even if, knowing Mama, she’d spend a couple weeks wearing it to brag about her daughter’s new wealth and then sell the damn thing. Raising a house full of children didn’t come cheap and a crown of gold could go far.

“Oh, this really is foul,” Joanna said, wrinkling her nose as she followed me, the rock underfoot slimy with stale water the ocean had done little to wash away. And Wynton was right—it stunk.

“No pain, no gain,” I said sagely, stepping over a greenish pool that only intensified the stench, keeping my eyes wide open for any lurking threats or rivals for my treasure.

Honestly, I should have become a pirate years ago. I loved killing and gold—what more did I need?2

“No pain no gain is what you say during a training session,” Joanna huffed, leaping over pools of rank water as we made our way into the cave proper. “Not when dodging puddles of sludge and fighting the urge to cut off my own nose for the crime of smelling this.”

It really was foul, but I kept moving and thought of gold, jewels, sparkling diamonds, tiaras, and goblets worth a fortune from which I’d drink a lovely red wine. I sighed wistfully and almost slipped onto my ass when I lost my footing. My screech echoed off the curved ceiling, duplicating my voice, and only years of fighting experience allowed me to regain my balance.

“We’re going to die down here,” Joanna said with a sigh. “And honestly, that might be better than slipping into whatever the hell is sloshing around my ankles.”

“Just a bit of water, girls,” Sterling shouted somewhere behind us, strangely cheerful. “It won’t kill you.”

Joanna exhaled hard through her nose in a way that told me she was thinking about killing Sterling. I snorted, but forced myself to pay attention as the light grew thinner the deeper we went into the cave. The pools of disgusting water grew more frequent, but the ground was so uneven that there was no hope of bringing a boat in. Which would have been a nice thing to have been told, but nope, my crew were assholes.

As further proof, Rolando broke out into a rousing rendition of The Giant Gong of King John.3 I glowered for two verses, but by the third I was belting out the refrain along with the others, our lewd chant carrying us through the cave until light spilled through a crack just ahead.

Anton’s voice grated my nerves. “There it is, boys. Hook’s gold.”

I whipped my head around so fast I had to grab for the jagged stone beside me, my eyebrows cutting into a fierce V.“Mygold.”

A low roll of laughter went through the crew, and my ears began to burn with both embarrassment and rage.

“Don’t rise to it,” Joanna murmured, her eyes heavy and dark. “It’s what they want.”

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