42. Pippi
Jackson sprang out of bed and bolted into the living room, moving with a nimble-footed gait, sweeping his enrapt eyes over the room. His hands found a weapon almost immediately, fisting around a poker from the fireplace.
“Jackson!” I called.
He whirled, swiveling those calculating eyes to me, and growled, “Pippi, what in actual?—”
Marvin scuttered as he picked himself off the floor.
Jackson caught the movement and spun around, his weapon whipping back to strike.
“Don’t!” I yelled.
Jackson froze with the poker suspended halfway over Marvin’s head. “It’s the cat,” he muttered dumbly. “The cat ? The fuck , Pippi? You brought the cat in here?”
“I—”
“You’re un-fucking-believable.”
“We were”—Marvin turned his eyes to me—“having quite a nice cha— oooofff !”
Jackson chucked the poker aside and hauled Marvin up by the scruff of his neck.
“Jackson!” I scrabbled to my feet. My knees knocked together, nearly sending me crashing back down. I gritted my teeth and forced them to hold.
Marvin yowled and hissed, his claws swiping at the air. “Unhand me, you buffoon!”
“Stop!” I swaggered over to him, touching his shoulder. “Please?—”
Jackson snarled and snapped his arm back, whacking me across the chest and harpooning me into the wall.
My back cracked on impact.
I grunted as pain shot along my shoulders.
Jackson paused. Slid his eyes to me. Scoffed. And opened the door, chucking the screeching Marvin out.
“I can’t believe you, Pippi.” He slammed the door, drowning out Marvin’s heated calls. “Do you really hate me that much? That you’d force an allergy attack? I’ll be sneezing my head off all day.” He sniffed. And swiped at his nose. And rubbed at his eyes.
His clear eyes. They weren’t red or teary, his nose didn’t sound stuffy or look runny, and he certainly wasn’t launching into a sneezing fit.
He lies.
He was performing all the acts he thought an allergy sufferer would. But he wasn’t actually suffering.
Anger frothed inside me. I gulped it down. Because this hashing argument had to wait. Something far more important needed to be aired out first.
“Jackson.” I reached for him as he stomped past.
“What?” he snarled.
“Jackson…I-I need you to listen to me.”
He gave a big, exaggerated sniff. “Unless it’s an apology, I’m not interested.”
“Jackson, please .”
And he must’ve seen the turmoil in my face when he deigned to bring his eyes back to me. I was crying—had been all morning—so my eyes were puffy, and I was jittering. And I was sure I’d gone whiter than a sheet.
He paused and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
“Jackson…there’s something…This island is wrong .”
He rolled his eyes.
“They’re people !”
“Who?”
“The creatures! Marvin and Alistair, and the alicorns, the kelpies, the banshees...they’re all people .”
“Well…yeah. But they’ve been dead for 500 years?—”
“No, they haven’t! That’s a story the isle tells, to hide the fact that they cursed living people .”
Jackson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t…Pippi, I don’t have the patience for this bullshit. We’re leaving in a few hours. Did you pack your things yet? Or did you waste time kissing the cat’s ass in hopes he’d turn into a prince?”
“It’s not?—”
He walked away. Ignoring me.
And my anger, my hurt… everything boiled over. “DON’T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME, JACKSON!” I bellowed.
He pivoted, his eyes burning with rage. “What the?—"
“Listen to me. Please. Just for a few minutes. This is…it’s important. It’s bigger than our fight. People, real people, are getting hurt by this.”
Patches of red blossomed over Jackson’s cheeks and a vein pulsed in his temple. But he stayed quiet as he jerked his arm through the air, motioning for me to go on.
“The creatures on this island are humans . They’ve been cursed—recently, I think. When the isle opened, or a little before.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Do you hear yourself right now, Pippi? Do you actually comprehend what you’re saying?”
I scowled. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Jackson.”
“Then don’t say stupid shit.”
“How dare?—”
“Curses are illegal , Pippi.”
“I know…”
“They taught us about curse laws in fucking grade school.”
“ I know . I thought that too. But laws can be broken?—”
“That’s a big law to break.”
“Right. Yeah. But someone with a lot of money and power would stand a chance at breaking it.”
“Of course.” Jackson rubbed at his cheek. “Let me guess…Rune Bloodworth is the villain?”
“I—”
“And how would the logistics of this work? How , Pippi? No one noticed a big swathe of humans went missing?”
“They—”
“The talking creatures never shouted ‘Hey! I’m Bob Nobody from Texas. I’ve been kidnapped’ to any tourist? Not a single one , in five years?”
“They can’t . They have runes branded into them that dictate what they can do and say.”
“Well, that’s convenient.”
“It’s the truth. I’ve seen it. It burned Marvin before you woke up because he tried to tell me more about the curse. And Alistair?—”
“Who”—Jackson’s eyes glittered—“is Alistair ?”
Ooof , well, I’d stepped in it now, hadn’t I?
Jackson’s expression turned cold—a human face etched into emotionless marble. “That’s the second time you mentioned that name. Alistair. Who is he?”
My tongue thickened into a gelatinous blob. “Alistair,” I finally managed, “is the Loch Ness Monster.”
A knitted V formed in Jackson’s brow. “It has a name?”
“ He . And yes.”
“How do you know that? Nowhere lists that name. How did you figure that out?”
My stomach corkscrewed into my throat. I clenched my teeth around my next words, in case something more than words came out. “He told me.”
“He… who ?”
“Alistair. The Loch Ness Monster. He told me his name.”
“The Loch Ness Monster? The one creature on this island that doesn’t talk?”
“He can talk. But nobody can hear him. But…”
Jackson’s face reddened, making him look a bit like a pulsating tomato.
“I can,” I continued. “I’ve been able to all week. Since that night we went skinny dipping. He’s…I mean…he’s the reason I’m alive. He saved me.”
“What?”
“I-I’m sorry Jackson. I should’ve…I don’t know why I didn’t.
I…I was confused at first. And then I didn’t know how .
I should have told you. But, yes, he saved me.
When that tide ripped me out to sea. I was lost .
And scared. He plucked me out of the water and protected me.
And I found out he could talk. But I’m the only one who can hear him.
And I don’t fully understand why. It’s awful, though, that his voice is silent to everyone else. Because he’s sweet, and?—”
Oh. Stars.
I’d said too much.
Far too much.
Jackson’s emotions slammed into me, nearly bowling me off my feet.
These were dark feelings—frighteningly so. Pounding sensations that left my blood boiling and had me itching to hurt something. Some one . More than hurt them. Murder them.
“Sweet, and goofy, and charismatic?” Jackson drawled.
He sounded so very calm. A placid sheen of ice, concealing riotous waters.
“How much time did you spend with the sea beast, Pippi?” he asked.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. Forced myself to remain calm, even as terror flayed my insides. “I’m sorry, Jackson. Not sorry I did spend time with him—I wish I could say I was. But I can’t regret getting to know Alistair. But it was awful that I went behind your back. And hurt you?—”
Jackson turned away with a snarl. Paced into the living room. Stopped. Seethed when he noticed cat hair on his suitcase. Belched up a violent string of curses that had me instinctively flattening my back against the wall. And fisted his hand on the suitcase handle.
For a brief, heart-sickening second, I pictured him hefting that suitcase up and throwing it at my head.
And I figured if he did, I’d deserve it.
But then his savage emotions quieted. He knocked his empty fist against his thigh and laughed . “This explains it, doesn’t it?”
“What explains what?”
“ You !” he exclaimed. “All week I’ve been raking my brain trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with you. And now it makes perfect sense. That sea monster’s bewitched you or something. Hasn’t it?”
“What? No. ”
“Precisely what someone who’s been bewitched would say.”
“I’ve not been bewitched, Jackson! That’s not even a thing —” I bit off when he circled the living room furniture and stormed toward me.
I tried to move back, but I was pressed against the wall. Trapped.
Jackson slammed a fist into that wall above my head and snatched my chin in his other hand.
“Let me go.” Panicked words burbled out of me. “Jackson. Please. Let?—”
He squeezed my jaw until the pressure creaked my bone and left me yelping in pain.
“Luckily for you, babe , I’m not one of those assholes who chucks girls out to the curb over indiscretions like this. You’re forgiven, Pippi.” He touched his lips to my head in a kiss that felt more possessive than romantic.
“Jackson.” My jaw crackled and ground as I fought to get the words out. “I swear , I’m not?—”
“You’re not thinking clearly. Of course. How could you, with that thing so close to the island?”
“He’s not a thing!”
“And I wish I could say that getting you home would make everything better. But bewitching is like a curse, right? Permanent?”
“I haven’t been bewitched! Or cursed.”
“I’m sorry, babe, you were trying to tell me, too, without being able to tell me. ‘ The beasts have runes that dictate what they can do and say. ’ That’s what happened to you, huh? I should’ve listened!”
“Jackson!”
“As far as I know, a surefire way to get rid of a spell is to get rid of the source. At least that’s the rumor. Might be true. Might not be. Only one way to find out.”
My blood morphed into freezing sludge, too thick to course properly through my veins.
“I’m going to take care of it. I promise.” A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.
“NO! Jackson, no !”
“But you’ll have to stay here.”
“No!” I screamed when he dropped his other hand and wrapped it in my hair.
“You were with him last night, weren’t you?” He pulled on my hair until I squeaked. “Your hair’s still wet, babe.”
“I—”
But then he was dragging me, literally, by my hair. Ripping at the strands until my scalp burned, and I was sure he’d uproot whole chunks. Forcing me through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
“JACKSON STOP!” I screamed. Kicked. Bit at his hand—and got rewarded with a hair twist that had me seeing stars.
“I need you to stay here for a few hours, babe. That’s it.”
“NO!”
“You’ll probably do or say anything to protect him, and I can’t have that. It’ll be okay, Pippi.”
This said as he threw me, bodily, into the bathroom.
I staggered, crashed into the sink counter, cried when the edge of it drilled a bruise into my hip, and howled when Jackson slammed the door shut.
“Jackson! You selfish, stupid—” I wrenched the handle. It didn’t move. There was scuffling from the other side as Jackson braced something against it.
“LET ME OUT!” I slammed my shoulder against the door, cursing when pain shot down my arm.
The door didn’t budge.
I whirled, scanning the bathroom. There were no windows. Nothing. Only one way in or out.
And that way had been barricaded.