Chapter 8
Hook stalked ahead through the jungles of Neverland, anger seething in his belly.
She’d killed a man.
She’d killed his man.
From the looks of it, he was Aaron Devonshire, a newer recruit to Neverland. One who actually had a family to return to. A wife and two kids, he recalled. Aaron had put his trust in Hook.
And now, like so many others, he was dead.
It wasn’t Wendy’s fault. He knew that, and he couldn’t really blame her. Not to mention he’d killed his share of his own men before realizing the full strength of his immunity. And yet, losing another good man stung. His hand balled into a fist, placing the condemnation where it should go. For all of it. For the one who had forced Hook to turn into a desperate monster capable of anything.
Pan.
“I don’t understand.” Wendy pressed after him. “You should have died long ago. Peter said that the Crocodile got you in the end.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He grit his teeth. Damn her for bringing up an event he’d rather not relive. “It wasn’t my time.”
The surrounding jungle was green and deep. Vines hung suspended from branches and the large leafy bushes reached out to block their progress. Whereas the shores of Neverland were cool and pleasant, the farther a person traveled into the island’s interior, the more the air became damp and humid.
He glanced back at Wendy. She followed, but at a distance, a wariness in her expression, keeping a hand near her knives. Pan must have found where Hook had left them in the dinghy and given them to her. His saber was belted at her waist. Forcing his fingers to unball, he paused. He shouldn’t allow her to walk behind him. Her lack of trust meant that any second, he could find a blade buried inside him.
And then Hook would have failed. Everything.
“What do you mean that the rock around your neck provides protection against Peter’s power?” she demanded, her green eyes narrowing. Every movement she made was the epitome of suspicion.
His hand dipped into his shirt, and he pulled out the silver stone. A black cloud of differing emotions ran through him as he held its coolness in his palm. “Everyone brought to Neverland becomes Pan’s mind slaves, forced to act out his morbid games to fulfill his sense of adventure.” A storm raged in his chest. So many memories. So many years of pain. “He controls this entire island, everyone and everything surrounding it. Even my crew.”
Her emerald eyes narrowed even further. “Except you… and me.”
He nodded. “Pan rarely commands everyone at once,” he said. “Sometimes, when his attention is off somewhere else, others get… free time. They can’t leave Neverland, but they get some sense of autonomy.”
His fingers hardened around the silver stone, and he tucked it back into his shirt. He continued walking, with Wendy at his side. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, her glare constant, and he could tell that she doubted every word that left his mouth.
“So everyone here are his slaves?”
“That is correct, lass.”
A breeze blew, ruffling her clothes, making her shiver. Sand covered her limbs and damp hair, and her fingers brushed a few stray strands aside. Her blouse clung to her breasts, showing off her round, supple skin. The sight was affecting Hook’s concentration. She peeled up the fabric, no doubt to avoid the impropriety, only to notice too late that Hook watched her as she did. Damn, she was beautiful. She clenched her teeth and shot him a murderous glare.
She plowed on ahead and Hook followed. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, a grin split his face.
“A few weeks ago, I received a package with a spellbook left for me at Madame Pearl’s,” he continued. “Among the many spells it contained was an incantation that would summon this stone to keep me safe from Pan’s power. Once I had it, I put it on and Pan hasn’t been able to control me since.”
She didn’t answer. He grew a bit worried at her silence. Like at any moment, she might declare him an evil liar and attack. Her stride was strong, confident. He’d seen her handle those knives strapped to her with deftness. She was deadly, well-trained. There was much to admire about Wendy Darling besides her beauty.
Which was what made her so dangerous.
They stopped in their journey, the overgrowth blocking any sign of a trail.
He faced her. “If you will. I’d like my cutlass, so I might get us through.”
Her hand landed on the hilt, and she stepped back. “Your cutlass?”
“Aye, mine.”
Her jaw clenched and Hook was certain she’d refuse, but she unstrapped his saber and handed it over. She watched as he carefully strapped it on. He unsheathed it, and he caught how quickly her fingers closed around the handle of a knife in response.
Acting as if he hadn’t seen her movement, he turned and sliced through the overgrowth.
“So why didn’t Peter send everyone else he controls to kill you?” she asked.
“That’s the rub, Wendy Darling. Those whom he controls can’t kill me. I’m protected from him, and from anyone under his power. Which is why he sent you. Someone who already hated me.”
She cast him a dirty look. “You kidnapped my brothers.”
“No doubt he wanted to use your anger to convince you to kill me. And then, after you did your part, he’d take over your mind as well. And he’d be back in total control, the inhabitants forced to play out his twisted daydreams for eternity.”
A downed tree blocked their path. Sword in hand, he scaled it before dropping to the jungle floor. He stuck the blade into the ground and held out his palm to Wendy.
“And yes,” he added softly, meeting her defiant gaze. “It was Pan that made me kidnap your brothers.”
“Why?” The question came out harsh and demanding.
“I don’t know, lass. When he’s in your mind, you can’t fight him.” A barely controlled fury burned behind his words. “You do whatever he wants. He forced me into your brothers’ room that night. I brought them to my ship and then came wonderful old savior Peter Pan and his Lost Boys. He compelled me to watch while they heroically slaughtered five of my men. Good men. Innocent men. And took your brothers off to live with them in their hideout and they’ve been there ever since. At least, until you arrived.”
He noted how her lips pressed and the distrust etched on her face. She climbed over the log without his aid. When she landed, she gave him a challenging glance. Hook shrugged and retrieved his sword.
She frowned. “You’re saying that the man I killed—”
“Aaron Devonshire. He had no control over what he said or did. It was Pan. Designed to give you the thrill of the adventure.”
He slashed through the greenery with a deadly slice, picturing attacking Pan.
Glancing back, he saw her swallow, looking more disturbed than ever. “That is quite the story. I don’t suppose you have any proof?”
Like he had time to run around gathering proof. He spun, and she rammed right into his unmoving form. He stared down at her, irritation lending a coldness to his voice. “You question now, but when Pan decides you are no longer of use to him, he’ll control your mind, too. And then you’ll know, but it will be too late. You’ll simply be another one of his pretty little pawns.”
For the first time, uncertainty entered her face. He wondered if he was scaring her. Good. She should be scared.
She stood close. So close Hook smelled the sea on her. She was like the untamed rolling waves that tossed his ship about. Had she been so wild and free when she’d been here last? He hadn’t really known her then, so he couldn’t be sure. But clearly, the passing years had changed her. Part of him wished she’d never come here. Pan wasn’t the only one using her as a pawn.
Wendy’s brothers were the key to controlling her. Once Hook “rescued” them, he planned on capitalizing on that. He’d leave nothing to chance.
She would retrieve the Dagger of Forgotten Souls for him. And he’d use it. All of Neverland would be at his mercy.
Wendy was a mere step in his plans, and he’d use her to his advantage.
A twig snapped.
He grabbed her, shoving his hand over her mouth and pulling her down into the brush. He looked around, alert. His rough, calloused palm pushed against her lips. Shit, they were soft and warm. But he refused to let that distract him. Wendy twisted, finally able to reach up and jerk his hand from her mouth.
“Stop doing that,” she hissed.
His grip on her loosened. “Sorry, love. Despite my immunity, knowing everyone on the island would kill me if they had the chance makes me a tad jumpy. Stay here, I’ll check it out.”
She pulled away but stayed low. “I want to come.”
“Can you move silently within an overgrown area, hiding your scent from detection while keeping an eye out for potential enemies?”
“Can you?”
He held in a chuckle. “Probably not.” He tapped his chest where the stone hung beneath his shirt. “But I’ve got this.”