Chapter 6
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.”