Chapter 6
Tink
This was it. He was going to drop her, and she’d die from the fall.
Such an embarrassing end for a pixie. Tink did everything she could to remain still as Hook descended the swaying rope ladder with only his namesake to hold him steady.
His other arm—one she had to admit was rather strong and solid around her legs—kept her from spilling to the ground.
At last, Hook’s boots thumped onto solid ground.
Praise Holy Flora. He’d made it down without killing her.
Still, she’d gut him like the slippery fish he was for abducting her like this.
And giving her home to those little rascals?
Unacceptable. Maybe she’d drug him with pixie dust, if she could ever make more, and drown him in his precious sea while he lived in his happy dreams. Just thinking about it made the corners of her lips curl.
“It’s a long walk back, I’m afraid,” Hook said, though he didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
Something crashed above. Boys whooped. The silhouette of one shone against the thin curtain over a window. She sighed. There’d be nothing left of her home if she didn’t get free soon.
“It’s a fair night. Calm sea. Nice breeze. Would be perfect with fine rum and a beautiful woman in my arms. Oh wait.” He patted her legs. “I seem to have one. Too bad she’s a trixie pixie.”
Tink rolled her eyes, trying not to focus on Hook’s coat-covered ass looming in her view. Shapely, but not too much so. She could almost picture the way his breeches stretched across the firm backside underneath. Or the corded muscle of his back that her fists had smacked against without avail.
“Trixie pixie,” he mused aloud. “I’ll have to remember that one.”
A groan slipped out into the night. “I’m glad you find this so funny.”
He laughed. “Not in the least. What I wouldn’t give for a clear head and skies.”
Clear head? Tink’s brows wrinkled. The mermaids vowed to turn the sea against whoever stole from them, but had they done more? She sighed. Probably.
Abruptly, Hook came to a stop. He adjusted her bound form, sliding her to her feet. It was impossible to miss the hardness of his chest, of all of him, as he lowered her to the ground. “I’d love to carry milady all the way to her ship but…” He shrugged.
“Such a gentleman.”
He gave a dramatic bow and swept his hand over the rough path toward the shore. “Ladies first.”
Tink could move her legs below the knee, but not much. Did he really expect her to waddle all the way to the ship? “You know, if you untied me—”
“You’d spread those gossamer wings and fly away.”
Snarky bastard. She scowled at him before turning with a huff. Fine. Let him laugh, but as soon as I get these ropes loosened up, I’m outta here.
Hook whistled one lively tune after another, a mocking accompaniment through the dark woods.
He didn’t even stop when Tink fell and scraped her knees, just lifted her up and urged her along.
Nessa’s flute, what she wouldn’t give to slap that horrible grin off his face.
She couldn’t even see it where he lurked on the path behind her, but it was there. Lousy pirate.
She did need to see the merfolk…eventually, once she had the scale to trade to them.
Showing up empty-handed though? Not great.
Though delivering the Heart of Fire had “proved her a friend to the merfolk,” Titania had said.
They wouldn’t even consider trading with her prior to that.
Perhaps they’d help her out of this mess, for their benefit if not hers.
Tink took advantage of the darkness to wiggle and stretch against her bindings as they walked. A roll of the shoulders here, stretch of wings there. Slowly, oh so slowly, they began to loosen. A little more and she’d be free.
At length, the trees thinned. The soft crash of waves and distant sounds of evening fun tickled her ears, peaceful, pleasing sounds, so unlike Hook’s whistling.
“Captain!”
She groaned inwardly. And unlike that. Escaping Hook wouldn’t be easy. Him and another pirate? So much harder.
“Smee!” Hook called. “About bloody time!”
A large man bounded their way through the underbrush.
With all the racket he made, he might as well have been a charging bull.
He was tall, muscular, and just big in every sense of the word.
All brawn and no brains—that had been her impression of him in their brief encounter before she’d stolen the necklace from Hook.
He did that impression even more justice now.
“You found her!” Smee yelled as he trampled a bush.
“No thanks to you,” Hook grumbled, though his tone lacked bite. “Where’ve you been?”
Smee ground to a halt in front of them, breathing hard.
This was it, her chance to flee. Tink stepped to the side of the path and pushed her arms against the bindings.
Smee rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Captain. I…well, I—”
“Tell me later.” Hook clapped him on the shoulder with his good hand.
Her wings screamed in pain as she used them to push against the blanket, stretching the rope. Just a little more… One shoulder inched free, an elbow almost pulled loose.
“Mind carrying our precious cargo?” The captain gestured in her direction.
No. No. Not again. Tink lunged for the brush, but Smee caught her around the waist. She screamed in frustration as he slung her over his shoulder like a sack. Sweat, ale, and cheap perfume—a woman’s no doubt—flooded her nostrils. Did this man never bathe?
“Feisty one.” Smee adjusted her over his shoulder, cupping her backside in the process.
“Watch your hands, you beast!” She swatted at him ineffectually.
“A real tiger shark,” Hook agreed with a smirk. “Now then. Let’s find our ship.”
*****
Tink yelped as Smee sat, or rather dropped, her onto her ass on deck. “Bastard,” she hissed.
“My ma and da were married,” he replied, a look of pride beaming off his features in the moonlight.
She rolled her eyes.
Other members of the crew gathered, eager to see the captain’s newest prize. Two barely kept their feet, drunk as they were.
“Gents, you may remember Tinker Bell.” Hook sauntered around her. “She’ll be with us for a while. Until she repays her debt.”
“Debt?” Tink gaped. How in all of Neverland did he expect her to do that?
Hook ignored her. “Rest up tonight, men, because tomorrow we set sail for the Azure Lagoon!”
Murmurs of bewildered excitement filled the air.
“Untie her, but don’t let her spread those wings.”
Tink stared him down, but her thin lips melted into a sigh of relief as the ropes around her were cut. To be able to move again… She closed her eyes and nearly moaned at the pleasure. Wings stretched. Shoulders rolled. A warm breeze tickled bare skin.
“Ya didn’ tell us she was that kind a’ guest!” a man said.
Heat flew to her cheeks as her eyes snapped wide.
Merrin’s teeth, how had she forgotten? She pulled her arms in front of her chest, hiding the thin undergarment that barely covered her breasts.
Her wings flickered as a shiver raced down her spine despite the inferno burning her up from within.
Had it been daylight, they’d have seen her skin flush pink.
Back at home in Sylvanna Vale, she’d never been the shy or modest sort, not around her kin, but to be nearly bare in front of these filthy humans was a new low, even for her.
A solid form blocked the men from her view. “She’s not that kind of guest.” Hook’s words held a sharp edge she did not expect, especially not directed toward his own men. “Nothing to see here. On your way.”
Tink grabbed at the fallen blanket, pulling it toward her, but as she did, something heavy and warm settled around her shoulders, draping over her. The scent of man—hot-blooded, swarthy man—consumed her.
Hook, his white shirt catching the moonlight and ruffling in the breeze, turned to Smee. “Gather up the crew. We leave at dawn.”
“Aye, Captain.”
His coat. Durin’s beard, he covered me with his long coat. Supple leather and silver buttons embraced her in their shell.
All at once, the ship became too quiet as the crew found somewhere else to be.
The Jolly Roger was a beauty, even she had to admit that—sleek yet sizeable, well-kept, with clean, polished wood.
She’d ogled the carved railings the last time she was aboard.
And rumor had it the ship was one of the fastest on the sea.
Tink had loathed the drunken men eyeing her harder than she’d inspected the ship, but now that they had vanished, leaving her with only the captain, she longed for them to return.
Desperately.
“Well, milady, we should get you inside.” Hook stood over her, an imposing man if ever there was one, with his arms crossed and brimmed hat hiding his face in shadows. He unlaced his arms and offered his one hand to her in a gentlemanly flourish. Always putting on a show, even now.
Tink’s nails dug into her palm as she fought the urge to slap his hand.
But he had ordered his men away and given her his coat…
Her fist loosened. Her shoulders drooped as she set her fingers on his.
In a moment, he had her on her feet, her small hand in his too warm and calloused one.
Her other kept the coat in place, leaving the blanket in a heap on the deck.
Her wings fluttered behind her in the opening of the coat, which nearly dragged the ground at her booted feet. A few flaps and she could lift off this deck and flee. Hook’s hand tightened on hers.
No. He had too firm a grip, and she didn’t have the strength to fly off with him if he fought her, which he would.
With practiced ease, the captain used his hook to open a door and led her up a flight of stairs and into the heart of the ship.
A lone lantern lit the hall, casting dim light against the smooth, weathered wood.
What would her cell be like? Filthy? She shivered.
Pixies loved cleanliness and nature—grass, trees, flowers.
A dirty prison would be torture. Did he know that? Her nose wrinkled. Probably.
Apprehension clouded her vision until Hook released her hand. Little of the room was visible from the meager moonlight filtering in the thick-paned windows, but the size alone said it wasn’t a cell. A key clicked in a lock behind her. Moments later, a lantern flared to life.
They’d gone up, not down.
Tink’s face heated as realization of the room she stood in took hold.
A stately desk loomed near the windows with a red velvet chair gilt in gold.
Sprawling bookcases were built into the wall.
Various baubles, maps, and amusements were displayed with pride upon their shelves.
And, of course, the lush bed with crimson coverings dominated one wall.
She’d been here before. How could she forget?
Captain Hook’s private quarters.