Hook's Pan (3 page)

“I swear to you, Dani,” Tink held James at wand point.

Unholy fire gleamed in the liquid ink of Hook’s eyes. Even with his hands bound behind his back and forced to his knees, he still managed to reek of defiance and fury.

Huntsman had a knee in his back and a fist in his raven’s wing black hair. Judging by the bloody marks and scratches covering the hunter’s face, Hook hadn’t given in so easily. Likely, without Tinkerbell’s assistance, Huntsman would even now be grappling with the enraged captain.

Danika held her hands out stiffly. “Tink, put your wand down. Clearly he is drunk and therefore cannot be held responsible for his actions.”

“Not,” James snarled, “too drunk to not rip your bloody head from your scrawny neck, you whoremongering fairy.” He glared at Tink, snarling and exposing blunt canines as he jerked against Huntsman’s hold. The stoic hunter merely grunted and shoved his knee in harder.

Tinkerbell glowered.

Danika grabbed her skull. Her boys, every last one of them…they’d all lost their minds. It was times like these that she wondered what had ever made her want to deal with the villains of Kingdom. Surely Charming never gave his godmother such a hellashish time. Then again Charming was as dull as dirty dishwater, there was that.

“Look at the destruction, look what he’s done, Dani,” Tink commanded, swishing her free hand around her.

Dozens of fairies lay scattered on the grass, eyes woozy and wings twisted around their bodies. Some were groaning, others sitting up and looking dazed.

“You must understand,” Danika began.

“No,” Tinkerbell sliced her hand through the air, “I understand just fine.” Her long blonde hair rippled down her back like living water.

Of all the godmother’s, Tinkerbell was perhaps the most famous. But what few knew about the iconic fairy was that she was an out and out sadist. Tink was never so happy as when inflicting torture upon others. The only one immune from her brand of loving were her boys, everyone else was free game.

Mother of pearl moth’s wings flitted agitatedly as Tink drew closer to Danika.

“You would do anything to save him, is that it?” Sharp baby fangs peeked out from beneath full red lips. “Because know this… I’ll kill him before I let him lay a hand on my Peter.”

Letting all humanity bleed from her eyes, Danika cocked her head just slightly. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to frighten me? Don’t forget who I am wee fae. I’m much more than the façade I wear.”

And to further drive the point home, Danika revealed her true face—the one of legend, of nightmares. She rarely showed it, preferring others to misjudge her, to believe her weak and docile. But she was none of those things and
no one
threatened her boys. Ever.

Tinkerbell’s jaw trembled, though she tried hard not to let on, Danika smirked when she saw the frightened glint in her violet blue eyes.

“Aye, I thought so. Besides,” Danika transformed back to the slightly chubby, gray haired fae, “let’s not forget who started this war. I could very easily have made mincemeat of your boy then. I was well within my rights. But come, come, let us be friends. Give me Hook, and I’ll punish him severely. What say you?”

James’ lips twitched.

Audibly grinding her jaw, Tinker withdrew her wand and slid it back into her briarwood vest. “You have a point,” she reluctantly admitted. “But watch your charge, Dani, next time he comes traipsing into the glen, I’ll not be so nice.” Tink’s smile was nothing but sharp teeth in a face as pleasant looking as any china doll.

Restraining the urge to hiss, Dani simply smiled until Tink was out of sight, then the smile turned into a full on glare. “I hate that woman,” she muttered. Barely able to refrain from rolling her eyes, Danika twirled on Hook.

“Get the mongrel off me,” he sneered, jerking his eyes in the direction of the Huntsman.

At a nod of her head, the Huntsman released the wad of James’ hair he’d been holding on to. Rubbing his neck, Hook looked at her.

“Well?” she snapped, waiting for an answer.

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves through the glen, filling the air with the pungent aroma of orange blossoms and hyacinth. Fluffy white clouds floated through the robin’s egg blue sky—a beautiful day.

And Danika wanted to scream.

“I’m fed up, Hook!”

His nose curled. “You know what she’s done to me. I’ve no choice but to seek out the gnats. I swore an oath of vengeance and that is all that has carried me through these long years.”

Grunting, Danika rolled her eyes. “And
am I
one of those gnats?”

His smirk was full on lusty, his eyes sparking with a devilish gleam as he made his way slowly to his feet. “Gnat. No. Though now that I’ve seen your true face… You put all the rest to shame. Why hide such fierce beauty?”

Feeling just the tiniest bit of pride from his words, she shrugged off the compliment as best she could. “James, what happened here,” she pointed to the pile of fairies still slow to regain their feet, “it cannot, no…
it must not
continue. Galeta allows me the privilege of working with you boys so long as you-”

“Bah.” Swaggering up to her, he tilted her chin up with the fine edge of his steel hook. “Why do you continue to work for that—”

Jerking free, she shook her head. “I’ve my reasons and yours are not to question mine. I must know, Hook, it’s been so long. Is there no hope? Does Talia haunt you so fiercely that you’ll never move on? It’s been a century. She would never have wanted to see this.”

Clenching his stubbled jaw, he glanced at his feet and for a moment she saw the play of emotion as it crossed his face. Anger, regret, sorrow… Then taking a deep breath he met her gaze. “Her death haunts me—why Pan did it. Why? To hurt me? It is the unknown of that question that consumes my thoughts. It is not my love for her that burns now, but vengeance, hatred. That is what makes me tick. I miss her, but I loathe him.”

Running her hand across her forehead she nodded. When Hook had found Talia, his darker tendencies had abated, somewhat. He’d always been slightly rotten, but in a ‘you hate to love them’ sort of way. Knowing that he did not still feel an undying devotion to his dead lover was actually a good step. It meant there was hope for Trisha and for him.

“Get back to your ship,” she said finally. “Head toward the Seren Sea and play like a good, little boy until my return.”

Nostrils flaring, he lifted a dark brow. “I’m not your plaything, Danika. You know my reasons and why I seek my revenge. I will have that boy’s head on a pike, with or without your help.”

Truly, Danika hated the boy almost as much as Hook. Why Tink had ever fallen in with his crowd, she’d never know. It would do the boy some good to receive a thrashing, rotten child that he was. Mayhap even a caning….

“There is more to life than your obsession with a ten-year old hellion. Believe me, please, Hook, go to your ship and stay. Trust me to do what’s best for you.”

He held her gaze for so long she thought he meant to argue further, maybe even damn her to Hell, but he didn’t. He simply turned, gathered his gear from the ground, and marched back to the beach without saying another word.

Huntsman lifted a dark, shaggy brow, waiting for her to give him the next directive.

Huffing with impatience, Danika smacked her lips. The man was intense, beautiful, but intense. Couldn’t he figure out what to do on his own? “Go,” she waved her hand, “do something. Go.”

He didn’t move, simply eyed her with a flinty eyed gaze that saw entirely too much. “Do you wish me to follow him?”

“Bloody hell, Huntsman, can you not think on your own? Do whatever it is you do, follow him, yes, of course. But so long as he stays aboard his ship, drink, be merry, take a whore or two.” She shrugged.

Frowning, his jaw worked from side to side and in that moment, Danika wondered if the man had any idea what fun actually was.

“Do you know how to relax, Huntsman?”

His nostrils flared and she sensed that perhaps there’d be another project in her very near future. “Go, go,” she whisked him off again, humming happily beneath her breath.

A fairy godmother’s work was never done.

Trisha bopped her leg up and down under the restaurant table, the green Peter Pan tights twisted around her crotch making her itchy and uncomfortable. Ugh, this was awful, and everyone was looking. She felt ridiculous in the too tight costume, but it was opening night, fliers and billboards were scattered throughout the town. Everyone had to know she wasn’t wearing this because she’d developed a sudden fetish for all things Pan.

Finally spotting Betty and Gerard, she got to her feet and rushed onto the sidewalk, ready to embrace her friend.

But then she saw something that caused her brain to temporarily short. Betty had a belly. A big one. A big, pregnant looking one.

What the HE Double L?

Hadn’t she just seen Betty last month? There’d not been a stomach then. Blinking, she frowned. “Bets? What’s?” she couldn’t finish her thought, could only point at her stomach.

Gerard’s smile was sensual, as was everything the man did; he always managed to ooze sex, even when he wasn’t trying. He rubbed her belly, confirming what was clearly obvious.

Betty
was
pregnant. And advanced.

“What is going on here?” she screwed her face up, looking at her friend for some answers. “How long, and why didn’t I know about this sooner?”

Grimacing nervously, Betty threw Gerard a tight smile and then pointed to the small, black bistro table.

“Let’s sit,” she said.

“You’re really freaking me out now, you know.” Trisha licked her lips, eyeing the two of them. “Why are you guys acting so weird?”

“Well, it's silly really." Betty was fluttering her wrist like a broken butterfly's wing, which told Trisha she was hiding something.

“Bets…” Trisha hedged, “what’s going on?”

Gerard pulled out the seat for Betty, than for himself. Tossing him a grateful smile, Betty sat with a tiny sigh. “Okay, I promise to tell you everything, but let’s eat first, please. The baby is demanding food and I’m gonna yak soon if I don’t give it to her.”

Thoroughly confused, all Trisha could do was shake her head. “Fine, yeah, whatever. And it’s a girl? What the hell? I’m not gonna pretend like I’m not incredibly aggravated with you guys right now.” She eyed them both hard and was gratified to see them lower their eyes at least.

Not cool that her best friend of nearly two decades would keep something like that from her. Not. Cool. At. All.

If she was honest she wasn’t just miffed, she was hurt too. And that sucked worse.

Raising a finger, Trisha called over their waiter. Ordering quickly, she glared at the others, silently demanding they hurry up and make theirs so they could hurry up and get back to their conversation.

When the waiter walked away, she got right back to business. “So?” Trisha lifted a brow.

Looking slightly green around the gills, Betty nodded. “All right, fine. You’re never going to believe a word I say, so please don’t interrupt me until I’m finished, you got it?”

Confused, slightly scared, Trisha turned to Gerard. hoping maybe he’d say something, do something to help explain what was going on. Help her to at least calm down. But he was no help; he was looking at the wine list like he’d suddenly discovered the meaning to the universe inside.

Shaking her hands, and rolling her neck, looking like a fighter ready to jump into the ring, Betty inhaled. “So, you know all those times Gerard and I disappear and you always complain that you can’t reach us?”

Trisha narrowed her eyes. “Yeah? You always said you were in the mountains.”

“Huh, do I?” Betty laughed weakly.

And that sound sent chills through Trisha’s spine. In all the years they’d known each other she couldn’t once recall Betty ever hemming and hawing. “Betty, what’s going on?”

“I’m getting to it, Trish. I said don’t speak.” She stuck out her tongue, and Gerard started rubbing her arm tenderly. Taking a deep breath, she said, “So we’re actually in Kingdom.”