Love in Neverland: Book 2 in The Neverland Trilogy (4 page)

His eyes continued to twinkle with amusement.  Not, as she had hoped, with lust.  “Not yet, my dear,” he told her.  “But know this: you are important.  The key to everything I have been working toward for a very, very long time.  The fact that you are finally here is worth celebrating.”

Remy forced a smile, and washed down the food with another sip of wine.  She would need to be careful not to consume too much; she needed a clear head if she was to woo the answer out of him.  He looked like a challenge.

If Remy liked anything, it was a challenge.

Chapter 4

It was easy to slip past the so-called guards in charge of keeping The Black Star secure.  They were not very bright to begin with, and there were only three of them.  The governor of Port Haven either did not have many men to spare or he was overly confident in his men’s abilities.  Either way, they were off with the ship before dawn, and apparently, they were heading to the island of The Alley.

The Alley looked as pitiful and as sad as Magdalena remembered.  She was not familiar with the island except for the fact that new souls gathered here to get picked up from the ferryman – Nicholas Grey – and be transported to their final afterlife.  Some chose to remain in The Neverland, to prolong their passing or to wait for loved ones.  Most, however, wanted the transition to be as quick and as painless as possible.  Magdalena never gave much thought about how she would respond to her own death; if she would be frightened or sad, regretful or relieved.  She tried to put herself in a soul’s place in order to empathize with them, but she found she could not.

Neverland reeked of death, but fairies could not die.  It was why their blood was able to provide life.

“What do you think, Tinker Bell?” Nicholas Grey asked in his loud, obnoxious voice, coming to stand next to her.

The sun was high in the sky, and Magda could feel the heat radiating on her fair skin.  She was not worried of bronzing – fairies were immune to the sunlight – but she did not like sweating in her only pair of clothes on this ship.  She wished she had thought to bring a hair tie so she could pull back her hair.

“I think if you call me that again, I will not hesitate to chop your hand off,” Magda told him, eyeing him sideways with a look that all but begged him to give her an opportunity to do so.

His own dry look in return was to be expected.  “Yes, well,” he said.  “How am I supposed to steer a ship with one hand?”

“I think you’ll find you can do much more than you expected with only one hand,” she told him, and the corner of her lip curled up.  It was the only sort of smile she allowed him, and that was a lot for her.  She was not one to pretend she was happy when she was not; she did not laugh at things she did not find funny.  Currently, she was amused, and that was stretching the word.

“I take it you know from personal experience?” Nick whipped back, raising a brow.

“Something like that,” she retorted.  She did have to hand it to the captain; the man could keep up with her.  Not many people had that distinction or that talent, and on the rare occasion that she encountered someone who did, she made a small note in her mind to remember this person. 

Nicholas Grey was also more charming than she originally believed, which was why she made sure to distance herself even more from him than she would have otherwise.  In her mind, no one was born charming.  They learned from a young age to employ charm in order to gain what they wanted because it was easier than fighting for it.

It also did not hurt that he was delightful to look at though she would never admit it out loud for two reasons: number one, it would only feed his ego, and from what Magda was beginning to realize about Nicholas Grey was that he had an enormous, extremely hungry ego.  There was no way she wanted to indulge it any more than need be; and number two, he was completely different from all the men she usually found aesthetically appealing.

He was big and broad and loud.  Even his quiet presence demanded attention, and once she gave attention, it was difficult for her to look away.  Not only did he insist on attention, but once he had it, he refused to give it up so easily.  His dark hair – not quite black, though perhaps a shade lighter – was short and fell into his face in complete disarray.  Had he never heard of a comb before?  His nose pointed out from his face, but his face was smooth and formed.  It was symmetrical to the point of near-perfection, and his brown eyes weren’t quite so dark – the color reminded her of dark brown tree bark with glimmers of red thrown in, especially in the sunlight.  She had never seen such a color before.  His skin was tight and tan from the sun though the color did not detract from his appeal.  From what she could detect, he had no tattoos, no fake teeth, no trinkets or scarves or anything quirky.  He wore clothes that clung to his body and he did not seem to have qualms about wearing them over and over again.

He was beautiful.  An interesting definition of beautiful, a little left of center, but beautiful nonetheless.

“So you just dock your ship and collect your souls?” Magda asked, crossing her arms over her chest and forcing her eyes to look away.  She needed to look at anything other than Nick, in case he was smarter than he appeared and could read her body language – or worse, her eyes – and decipher what she had been thinking.  And that was the last thing she wanted.

“What’s it to you?” Nick asked, giving her a sideways look, his hand hanging from a rung of the wheel.  He stood at the helm so casually, as though he belonged there, as though he was born to stand at the wheel of a ship.

And maybe he was.  Maybe that was why he had been selected for the job of ferryman.

“Curious is all,” Magda answered honestly.  “That, and I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Bull,” Nick said, and it was clear he did not believe her in the slightest.  Which was odd, since James was not able to detect Magda’s deceit as quickly or as easily as Nick seemed to be able to.  “You don’t seem to be the sort who makes conversation if you don’t have anything to say.  You especially won’t choose to make conversation with someone you don’t like.  Don’t play me for a fool, Tink.  Do me a favor, do yourself a favor, and don’t lie to me.  I’ll know.”

"Fine."  Magdalena rolled her shoulders back and kept her eyes focused squarely on the man in front of her. If he wanted direct honesty, she had no problem giving it to him. In fact, she might even enjoy it. "I want to know how the process works because I'm genuinely curious. I like explanations. I like learning about what I can't explain. It makes me appreciate things more."

Nick looked at her, giving her a long, cool stare. Magda met his state and did not fidget underneath it. She was not sure if his intention was to make her feel some level of discomfort, but if it was, it certainly did not work. His lips curled down when he realized she was not going to budge and he looked away, sighing through his nose.

"I can't explain it," he told her, and his tone softened with its honesty. Magda could not help but notice that it was not as loud or as obnoxious as it normally was. In fact, there was a good chance Magda actually found the sound of his voice pleasant when he spoke this way - not that she would ever admit it, of course. "It just happens. They follow my ship, and I don't even have to ask."

Magda thought about that for a moment. "Is it because you're alive?" she asked.

Nick shot her another look. "You certainly know a lot, don't you, Tink?" he asked.

She wanted to lecture him about the name, but she knew he was only trying to change the subject. If he riled her up to the point of distraction, he could easily turn their conversation somewhere else. Luckily, Magda caught onto his game quickly and allowed him the satisfaction of calling her that dreadful name in exchange for more information. Instead, she tilted her head and continued to look up at him, waiting for some kind of response. She did not give him a face or any attitude; she simply gazed at him with patience. By the way his brow pushed together slightly, she knew her lack of response surprised him, which played into her plan perfectly.

“I see you underestimated me as well,” she said with a smile, genuine in nature.  Her eyebrow raised in a challenge, but not an aggressive challenge. 

Nick grinned in return, and for a moment, the two smiled at each other.  As though they were companions.  As though they were friends and not forced into an unfortunate situation neither of them had any control over.

“Touché,” he said with a nod of his head.  He looked at her with those sharp eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.  Magdalena could not help but be drawn to the muscles that sprung up when he flexed his arm.  “Can I ask how you knew?  That I was a Breather, I mean?”

Magda paused for a moment, then reached out and placed her hand on his chest.  She was surprised at her boldness, surprised she even touched him in the first place.  He, too, seemed just as startled, but he did not back away, and for that, she was grateful.  It would have been embarrassing should he have dropped her hand, pushed her away, especially since she was vulnerable.

Her hand was on his chest, and she could feel it right there.  His heart beat.

“I can hear it,” she told him, picking her eyes up so they could lock with his.

He was not as tall as James was, she realized.  But that did not matter all that much.  He was still pleasant to look at.  He still towered over her.

“I can feel it.”

She pressed her palm more firmly into his skin.  She had made sure to slide it underneath his dirty tunic so there was nothing inhibiting her from feeling it.  She had never felt a heart beat before – except for her own.  It was calm and steady though it did jump once or twice after she touched him.  His skin was surprisingly soft, warm even, and comfortable.  Magda would not admit it out loud, but she let her hand linger far longer than was necessary so she could commit the feeling to memory, just in case she would never feel it again.

A heartbeat in The Neverland that was not her own.  A miracle.

“Captain!”

The redhead broke Magda out of her thoughts and she dropped her hand as though his flesh was made of fire and he had burned her.  Her face turned an unattractive shade of red and she took a step back from him, and then, after second thought, took another step back.  It was almost as though she did not trust herself around him.  And perhaps she did not.

Thank God for redheads
, Magda thought to herself, and turned her eyes to Nick’s crew.  She still did not know who they were and why they served Nick.  She still did not know how this entire process of ferrying souls to The Crossroads worked, and she felt that if she could get a good understanding of that, then perhaps she could decipher James’s plan with Remy.

From the corner of her eye, Magda saw a smirk on Nick’s face – not because of the interruption, but no doubt due to her reaction to the interruption.  She hated Nick more than she thought she could.

The redhead did not even look at her as she spoke.  “The souls here are lacking,” she went on.  “Where are we going and what are we doing?”

“Clearly,” Nick said, offering her his charm smile.  Magda noticed the redhead roll her brown eyes at his attempt to charm her.  The fairy hid her own smile.  “We are going to take them to The Crossroads just as we would have.”  His hair fell into his face as he tilted his chin down.  “So.  When do you plan to tell me why you sprung me and my crew out of jail?”  He placed his hands on the banister of the ship, blocking Magda in.  He leaned in so he was close to her, a forearm’s length apart.  “I know Hook sent you.  You wouldn’t have left his side otherwise.  What I don’t understand is why.  Perhaps he’s gotten tired of you and that is why he requires Remy’s presence.”

Before she could stop herself, Magda reached out and slapped him.  It freed her from his arm prison, and she managed to weasel around him, putting a greater distance between the two.  Her breathing was ragged, and she hated the feeling of internal pain that twisted in her gut and gripped it tight, to the point where it might never let her go.

Magda had not thought much about it, but Nick’s words were a little too close to home.  James
had
tossed her aside the minute he had Remy in his possession.  He sent her on some mission to keep Nick distracted, a mission anyone else could have done.  She should be with him now, protecting him at his side, where she belonged.  Instead, she was here, with some captain she did not like or even respect.  She shouldn’t be here.  She did not want to be here.

Now, everyone was staring at her.  It was clear Nick’s words got to her.  She was certain her eyes were dead giveaways.  She hated how obvious she was being, how openly vulnerable.  She should have been better controlled.  She should get a better check on her emotions, especially if she was going to be here for a while.  She wanted to retire to her room, but she did not want to run away.  However, the longer she stayed here, the more exposed she left herself for the crew to see.