Page 61 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
Searing, horrible, writhing pain.
I screamed.
Blood bloomed over my fingers, dripping onto the deck of the Jolly Roger.
I bent over, my bloodied hand clutching it to my chest.
“Your scope is limited, little Darling. You must broaden your understanding if you are to win this fight.” Crimson glistened on the Crocodile’s teeth and lips. “You are missing too much.”
My left hand pulsed with agony, and my mind spun. My pinky finger was gone.It was gone.
The Crocodile stepped away, sliding over to James. She rose on her toes and pressed blood-covered lips to his. She looked back at me, who stood trembling, bleeding all over the deck, and ran a scaled finger over James’s hook in a slow caress.
And for the first time, I heard it.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
“The minutes are ticking. I’ll see you soon.”
The mist pulled around her and she vanished.
Chapter 23
Hook
The power of the Crocodile released Hook, and he stumbled.
The metallic taste of blood lingered on his lips from the Crocodile’s kiss. He may have been under her control, but he’d heard every damn thing.
Wendy stood on the deck, her hand pulled against her chest as she cradled it, crimson seeping into the lacey fabric, her eyes glazed and skin pale. His chest tightened as an icy horror curled in stomach.
He rushed to her side, yanking off his shirt. When he reached her, he gingerly grasped the wrist of her injured hand. She resisted him.
“Wendy.”
Her gaze rose to his. He gave another light tug, and this time her arm loosened. He swore when he saw the damage. The Crocodile had ripped off the little finger on Wendy’s left hand.
He twisted his shirt around her fist, then pressed against the wound. She flinched but didn’t make a sound.
“Come with me,” he said. “I have something that will help it feel better.”
Wrapping his arm about her waist, he guided her into his cabin. Her body was shaking. Wendy was never this quiet or submissive. He needed to hurry, to bring her out of the shock.
The space was completely turned over. Papers and maps strewn everywhere, clothes torn out of the closet spread across the floor. Even his chaise and mattress had been flipped. One of his crew members must have been searching for the spellbook. Hook pushed down his rising anger to focus on Wendy.
He walked in and kicked aside the papers coating the floor.
“Wait here,” he said, leaving her next to his desk.
Then he went to his bed and fought his way past his bedding and overturned mattress to the loose floorboard in the corner of his cabin. He breathed a sigh to discover it undisturbed. After popping it open, he lifted the tiny brass key from the hidden space. He climbed over to the rear of his closet to find the miniature hole that he had disguised as an unassuming crack. Placing the key, he twisted it, and the compartment opened, revealing a large leather-bound book. The spellbook of Stardust.
Taking it, he walked to his desk, setting it on the untidy papers across the surface. He flipped it open and turned to the healing spell.
Looking over the instructions, he reached out and gripped a few dried chamomile leaves that lay scattered from their jar across his desk and crumpled them. He set them in a small pile before facing Wendy.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Despite her quiet quaking, she managed to nod. He drew back his shirt, revealing her bloodied hand. “Hold still.” He chanted thewords of the spell, following the writing on the page with care. One mistake and things could go wrong, very quickly. He grabbed the crumpled chamomile leaves and pressed them against her wound. He saw pain well in her eyes, but she didn’t make any noise.
