Hook's Pan (5 page)

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Authors: Marie Hall

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Hook's Pan
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People ran like a salmon migration for the doors, tripping and shoving each other out of the way.

 

“Hey,” Trisha screamed, “somebody help me, hey!” But it was like no one heard her. Not even Julie, who was moving faster than Trisha had ever seen her move. “Julie, heeeelllp.”

 

And she continued to cry out for help, until the very last person ran through the door.

 

A creeping white fog started to roll down the aisles, curling up the stage, through the seats, until finally all she could see was the white everywhere.

 

Heart beating a terrible rhythm in her chest, panic making her mouth dry as a desert, Trisha jerked her legs, trying in vain to yank herself down. She’d much rather fall to her death than die of smoke inhalation at this point.

 

Sparks flew behind the curtains and the scent of smoke filled her nose. Screaming and twirling like a drunken bat, Trisha didn’t initially see the figure standing below her.

 

But eventually the voice cut through her blind terror.

 

“Trisha, relax, it’s just us. It’s just us…”

 

“Betty?”

 

Betty was jerking her hand at Gerard who was running behind the stage prop to grab the rope attached to her harness.

 

“They left me,” she stuttered, “I can’t believe…”

 

“No, they were enchanted. Danika made them forget all about you.”

 

“What?” She planted her fists on her hips. Again with the stupid fairy crap. Before she got a chance to swear about it though, Gerard had finally lowered her to the stage. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Betty was on her, releasing her from the harness.

 

“Listen to me, Trisha, everything, and I mean, everything, I’ve told you is absolutely true. Danika is here and she’ll be taking you on a little journey. I really wanted more time, but…”

 

“There is no more to be had.” A woman, and Trisha used that word loosely, hopped up onto the stage.

 

Actually hopped was the wrong word. She glided…on wings.

 

Blinking, Trisha shook her head. The wings were moving—dragonfly looking things shining with a blue iridescence. They looked unbelievably real and her heart sank somewhere into the region of her knees.

 

“Wha… What is—”

 

The woman/fairy (oh God, had she died? Maybe she was dead. Or passed out…yeah, maybe passed out, was she really giving Betty’s words credence?) was looking at her. Fat, blondish-gray curls bounced around her cherubim-like face as she smiled broadly. “Well, hello Trishelle. Good to finally meet you, Betty’s told me so much.”

 

Whipping her head back and forth between the three of them Trisha knew she’d get whiplash soon. “Wait. Hold on.” She took a step back as the little woman-thing came closer, wings flitting faster, buzzing loudly behind her. “What’s going on here?”

 

Gerard had his arms wrapped around Betty’s middle as he leaned over. “We told you truth.”

 

Betty patted his arm. “Please, please, Trisha…this isn’t scary and I promise you’re gonna love it. Him. You’re gonna love him.”

 

Her smile was broad and Trisha’s eyes grew wider.

 

“What the hell is going on here?”

 

Where was the fire? Shouldn’t they all be drowning in flame by now? Hacking their lungs out as the black smoke filled it up? The air smelled like paint and flowers, wildflowers, the kind of smell that came from standing in a verdant meadow after a good, long rain.

 

What was going on here? She’d seen fire, she knew she had. But the woman in front of her was smiling at Trisha like
she
was the crazy person locked up in an insane asylum because she’d completely lost touch with reality. Except in this case, she was pretty sure she wasn’t the one who’d lost touch.

 

“She needs more time.” Betty clutched her hands together, looking at Danika. “She doesn’t believe us.”

 

Trisha blinked. And then blinked again, all the while she kept backing up, stopping only because she’d run into a stage prop.

 

“I’m still asleep. That’s what this is. I’m asleep and that’s why Julie bailed and why Betty’s acting like such a weirdo, and I’m seeing a woman with real wings attached to her back.” She giggled and then slapped herself, frowning when it actually stung.

 

“No more to give, Hook’s gone and gotten himself tangled up with Tinker. I know that man, he’s setting up his next plan of attack. We’ll bring him Trishelle and he’ll have no choice but to obsess over something else. Though…” she tsked, taking in Trisha’s appearance, “you do understand that meeting him with that get up on will be ironic, to say the least.”

 

It dawned on her then, she didn’t need to stand here and listen to this. Turning on her heels, Trisha bounded down the steps, thigh muscles flexing and bunching, running as fast as she could toward the door.

 

Something hard and heavy slammed into her back, but instead of it making her drop like a stone to the floor, she was stunned and frozen. Literally frozen with her foot mid-step.

 

Eyes going wide she gazed down at her body and saw the rolling undulations of something that twinkled and glowed a faint luminescent pink, completely encasing her.

 

“Dani!” Betty did something very much like a growl. “No magic.”

 

Trisha couldn’t turn to see her, but she felt the heat of Betty’s anger roil off her back a second before she planted a hand onto her still frozen shoulder.

 

“You promised to give us time,” Betty pleaded with someone; Trisha could only guess it to be Danika.

 

A long sigh was punctuated by a loud pop and then Trisha fell to the ground, scraping her hands and knees on the rough carpet and gasping for breath as Betty enveloped her in a tight hug.

 

“What just happened?” Trisha stuttered around a swollen and dry tongue.

 

Rubbing her back, Betty’s lips were grim. “Magic is real, Trisha. Everything I’ve told you, all real. Do you believe me now?”

 

Her big brown eyes were earnest and sincere and Trisha had no words. Like they had literally crawled out of her head, leaving her with a vast, blank canvas of nothing.

 

“She’s in shock,” Betty hissed.

 

Trisha couldn’t follow half of what was going on. What was going on exactly? A friend she’d known her entire life was telling her a place of fairytales existed, a smallish woman with freaking enormous dragonfly wings had just zapped her with some sort of super powered wand, and a man with a hook awaited her at the other side of the rainbow.

 

It was just too much.

 

She laughed. Grabbed her stomach, held on for dear life, and let it all out. She’d lost her mind.

 

Clearly.

 

“Oh dear,” the woman/bug/Danika thing tsked, tapping her chin with a star tipped wand.

 

“I told you to give me more time,” Betty grumbled, still rubbing Trisha’s back.

 

Looking up at Gerard, Trisha laughed harder. He had his arms crossed over his impressive chest and was looking at her with an I-told-you-so look.

 

Which was so terribly, ludicrous and funny. Not to mention Un-Freakin-Believable.

 

Shaking her head, trying to shake the incredulity loose with it, Trisha worked up to her feet and then walked toward
Danibug
(she refused to call her a fairy). There had to be a rational explanation for all this. They were in a theater, props were everywhere. That must be it.

 

Walking around Danika’s back, she leaned in close, peering through the veiny, translucent wings. Brushing her fingers over them, she gasped when they trembled.

 

Danika jerked and twisted around. “Do you mind?”

 

“Where’d you get those?”

 

Danika narrowed her eyes, nostrils flaring, her tiny rosebud mouth set into a tight, thin line. “I was born with them.”

 

“Right.” Trisha nodded.

 

Betty clamped onto her shoulders, pulling her behind her back. “Look, Dani, maybe she’s not ready. Give her more time. One more day at least.”

 

“To what?” Danika’s blondish-gray brows gathered into a vee. “To convince herself she’s deluded and needs to be in a mental ward?”

 

Whoa? Trisha narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

 

That’s
exactly
what she’d been thinking.

 

Bug lady’s only response was a large roll of the eyes. Then she turned to Betty. “I sent Gerard to you much the same way I intend to send her. There are certain souls who simply cannot accept until they witness it for themselves. Sometimes seeing really is the only way to believing.”

 

“Hello,” she said and waved, but failed to get them to stop discussing whether to send her now or later. “Hello!” she tried again and then smiled proudly when they broke apart startled.

 

“I’m right here, and don’t I get a say in this?” She touched her chest.

 

They started to shake their heads and she shook her finger.

 

“Okay, actually you misunderstood me. I wasn’t really asking permission here. Betty, I love you, but right now I’m seriously pissed. So hands off.” She jerked out of Betty’s reach. Eventually she’d forgive her, because that’s what friends did, but not right now. Right now she had to get away from them, all this, needed time to breathe and think and gather her scattered thoughts into something that made some sort of sense again. “As for you bug lady…”

 

Danika huffed and twin splotches of red crested her pale cheeks, but Trisha plowed on, not giving her a chance to retort.

 

“…the answer is a big, fat hell no. I’m not going anywhere, except maybe to bed. Today sucked, no thanks to the both of you. Betty, you can call me tomorrow, I’m sure by then I’ll be less moody. Tonight I have a date with Leonardo and Kate and better nobody interrupt my I’m-the-king-of-the-world moment, thank you!”

 

With a decisive nod, she turned on her heels and started sauntering proudly toward the door.

 

“Bloody hell, every time. Some days being a godmother is a pain in my bubbly ass,” Danika muttered and that was the last thing Trisha heard. The next thing she knew she was reaching for the door and instead of stepping out into the familiar sights and sounds of Lebanon, Missouri, she was now falling through a tunnel of stars.

 
Chapter 4
 
 

Hook stared at the strumpet lying on the bed. The powdered wig she wore lay skewed on her head, revealing a hint of frizzy brown beneath. Her painted face, with the fake mole over her top lip, and doxy red pout made his stomach curdle.

 

Drink made him do stupid things.

 

Shaking her shoulders roughly he woke her up. “Get out,” he growled the moment she opened bloodshot eyes.

 

“Wha-”

 

Curling his lips, he slipped his boots back on. “Out. Now.”

 

“But…but…” she sputtered and he turned his back on her.

 

“Woman, I’ll give you two seconds to gather your unmentionables and get out of my cabin. Should you not heed my kind warning…I’ll toss you overboard.”

 

Pure bluff, but he had a massive ache in his head and didn’t care to be nicer about it.

 

Mouth gasping open and shut, she grabbed a green dress two sizes too small for her and covered her breasts with it. “But, James…I thought we’d had such a lovely—”

 

His lip curled. Damn he hated when they clung. “Madam tramp—”

 

She sucked in a sharp breath, cheeks bulging in the process with her disdain.

 

“—I’ll not ask again. Out now. Or I’ll have my man Smee toss you to the croc. Your choice.” His lip curled into a self-satisfied smile.

 

Nostrils flaring delicately, she shot to her feet and shoved the dress over her bony frame. Hairpins pinged to the floor as she yanked it over her head, causing the already floppy wig to plop pitifully beside her foot looking like some furry tarantula.

 

He should help her, but he was afraid that if he did she’d take that as invitation to stay. He knew her kind well. So he pretended not to care as he leaned back in his chair, and grabbed a crystal tumbler and a bottle of scotch, proceeding to pour himself two fingers worth.

 

She flounced toward the door, her bustle tripping her up. He merely lifted a brow and sipped. The piece of hair lay where it’d fallen.

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