Page 17 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
Hook’s ship was sailing away from me. The sharp breeze made me shiver. He’d helped me, warned me about how much time I had. Maybe even swiped at my ropes as I fell to loosen them. What game was he playing? For whose benefit had that little show been?
The freezing sea lapped at my face as I treaded water. What he really wanted was the dagger, and I couldn’t retrieve that for himif I was dead. That was the only thing keeping me alive. I thought about flying after the departing ship, of burying my blade in his damn arrogant tattooed chest. Keep everything simple and follow what Peter had told me to do. I couldn’t actually trust Hook.
But if my brothers turned out to be alive, perhaps it was Peter I shouldn’t trust. Then again, Hook might have some sort of elaborate trap that he was leading me into with this so-called deal. After all, he’d kidnapped John and Michael in the first place.
My brothers could be at Marooners’ Rock. I had to check it out. And I needed to get there before the tide rose. I’d settle my score with Hook later. Besides, if he was headed that way, I’d see him there, and then I would figure out who I should trust and who deserved a knife in their heart.
Because I was bringing Peter Pan with me.
Chapter 6
Hook
Hook stood on board the deck of the Jolly Roger and watched until Wendy’s head broke the surface of the water. Well, that was done. He released his hook that he gripped tightly behind his back and turned to look out over the waves. The sun glistened off every gentle crest.
“Where are we headed, captain?” Smee asked.
He cast his first mate a suspicious glance. “For now, due east.”
Smee wasn’t to be trusted. Nobody was to be trusted. He couldn’t reveal their destination. Turning, he looked out over his crew, going about their duties, their motions mechanical.
He shut his eyes, all the times he’d plunged his hook into one of his crew members playing through his mind, gutting them wholly, their innards spreading over the deck of his ship. Sometimes he felt nothing in the moment. Other times, the horror rang in the back of his mind as he inevitably finished the job. But always, the anger—the seething rage—would come after.
There was a darkness inside him that he didn’t know if Pan put there, or if he’d had his humanity ripped out of him over time with the demise of every Lost Boy, crew member, or person he’d killed.
But James Hook would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Nobody, not even the pretty-eyed, fierce blonde he’d just tossed off his ship, would stand in his way.
He stalked across the deck and shouted orders at his men, knowing it did little good. They’d do as they pleased, but he needed a distraction from the emotions raging through him. Of the memory of her body rolling over his. Of how he’d wanted to drop the pretense, drop everything, and lay her out on his desk and take her right there.
Except she hated him. She wanted him dead.
She had good reason to loathe him. He had kidnapped her brothers.
No, he couldn’t have her. She was a distraction. And a dangerous one, he knew, from the way she’d so easily de-hooked him and pressed a knife to his throat.
Why didn’t she have the damn dagger? Fear ripped through him at the thought that maybe she’d already turned it over to Peter Pan. Dammit. He should have asked.
It didn’t matter. He wanted that dagger and he’d get it. Whatever deal he had to make, whoever he had to cheat, or kill, he’d get it.
There was only one thing that mattered to Hook.
And Wendy Darling wasn’t it.
Smee approached. For once, the eternal grin had fled from his face. “Captain, we have a problem.”
Hook tensed, wondering if he finally had to deal with the mutiny he knew was coming. “And what is that?”
His first mate motioned toward the sea. It had taken on a much darker hue and writhed with a movement he’d only seen caused by one kind of creature. The flow of the water countered the push of their breeze, stalling them in place.
“Mermaids.”
Chapter 7
Wendy
Peter and I flew through the jungle toward Marooners’ Rock. A thickness lingered in the air that clung to my skin.
“It's probably a trap.” Peter smiled, his blue eyes sparking with excitement as he moved from tree to tree, alighting upon branches before pushing off again. I followed him, flying and weaving between the foliage. The Lost Boys were a short way behind us, spreading out to come at Marooners’ Rock from every angle.
