Page 53 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
“She did get me.” He sighed. “And some day, she will again. There’s this odd ticking clock in my head when she is near, like time is counting down. Someday that ticking will stop, and my time will be up.”
He rose, shedding us of our blanket. He held out his hand to me, giving me a gentle smile. “But it's not today.”
I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet, then hurried over to my clothes, pulling them on. James buttoned my dress while I laced up my boots. I turned to watch him step into his trousers, wishing that we hadn’t been interrupted the previous evening.
I averted my gaze. Since when did I allow myself to have such thoughts about the captain of the Jolly Roger? But last night had felt like the very continents themselves had shifted between us.
Moving over to my throwing knives, I slipped them into their spots, stashing a couple in my boots, another on a holder on my thigh, and the final one between my breasts.
When I turned, I realized James watched me, heat in his eyes, his shirt hanging from his hook. A slow smile played on his lips. “I could watch you do that all day.”
A small laugh escaped me at the pleasurable tingle that fluttered in my stomach. I loved how he looked at me. Like he’d also like nothing better than to finish what we started last night.
Clearing my throat, I moved close to him and lifted his shirt. “Let me help you.”
He gave a slow nod, and I held it while he slipped his arms inside, pulling it over his brace, his tattoos disappearing under the fabric.Touching his waist, I urged him to face me. He did, and before I shifted the front of his shirt over his muscled chest, I paused, staring at the double line of swirling ink marks that traveled down it. Without thinking, I reached up and ran a finger over one column of ink. It looked like a list of random letters.
“What do these mean?” I asked softly.
His gaze blackened, those blue eyes a sea of turbulence. “They are the first letters of the names of the men I’ve killed.”
My finger froze.
I swallowed, my mouth dry. “You mean the men Pan made you kill?”
He didn’t move, but the darkness in his expression intensified. “Pan is sadistic. And I seemed to be his favorite target. He can make you think whatever he wants. Make it feel perfectly logical. And even if you fight against him, he will force you in the end and then harass you with thoughts that it was your idea. That he was doing what I wanted to do in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew when he was in my mind, but during that time everything was always so muddled. After so many years of that, I…” His jaw clenched, but I saw through the anger to the vulnerability underneath. “... Sometimes it was hard to tell if it was me or him.”
A pang ran through me. I couldn’t judge him. I’d never been enslaved, toyed with, turned into an unwilling murderer at the whim of another. “James,” I whispered.
He stepped back from my touch. “And it wasn’t Pan controlling me last night when I killed those men, when I took out my first mate. He kept coming, Wendy.” James’s voice shook. A man aboutto break. “He wouldn’t stop. He…” He straightened and jerked his shirt down, his breaths releasing fast. “You need to know that there isn’t anything I won’t do to free Neverland of Pan’s power.”
There was a warning in his tone. I should be concerned, but even though I couldn’t understand everything he had been through, I did understand his determination, his desperation.
I would do anything to find my brothers and bring them home.
He stepped past me and scooped up the dagger, placing it in his belt, pulling his shirt over it. I frowned. I had wanted to hold on to it.
The way he moved across the room with such stilted purpose—in that moment, I saw the captain of the Jolly Roger I had always seen. But now I sensed what lay underneath. A man. A wounded man.
He yanked open the door and nodded to the frigid outside. “It is time to move on to what comes next, Wendy Darling.”
I stepped out into the snow and began to shiver. James’s coat fell heavily on my shoulders, and I shifted it close around me, casting him a grateful glance.
He pulled the door shut, turned to the woman and children that were waiting nearby, and handed them the key. “It's yours for as long as you need.”
“Thank ye, sir. Thank ye.”
The children waved shyly, and a small smile curved James’s lips as he waved back with his hook.
“And what comes next?” I asked as we moved away.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. The children seemed to have sapped some of his gloom from him. “Can’t save the world without a hearty breakfast.”
“I’m not acquainted with any establishments on this side of town.” Or one willing to take us in our current states of dress.
“I know a place,” James said.
We walked to the landlord’s door and told him about the family that was taking our room. He reluctantly agreed.
