Pan's Revenge (17 page)

Sink? By Davie Jones’ locker, where is the
fairy’s magic dust? Finding the jar with the rainbow sand in my
cabin, I use the second third up to dust the Jolly Roger. As soon
as the job is done, I dart back to the bridge and grab the wheel.
This time, my mere touch is enough to move the ship. We’re heading
back to London, the sea of lights coming into view.

Taking the
same route as last night, we soon reach the suburb of the town and
the peaceful, dark street with Angel’s house. There’s not a minute
to waste. “Let me down on the rope, Smee!” I holler as anticipation
takes complete control over my heartbeat.

He hands me
one end of the rope, but at the same time Bull’s Eye calls out,
“Cap’n! There’s someone leaving the house. I think it’s Angel. And
she’s with—”

I look up at the crow’s nest, meeting Ravi’s
grimace. “Pan,” he finishes.

Finding
another spyglass on deck, I take a look myself. Dressed in a
floating, dark pink dress that reveals her delectable legs from her
knees down, Angel clings to Peter’s arm as they move across her
front yard. A black coach without a horse is waiting for them
outside the garden fence. Peter let’s her get in first and then
stoops to follow. They slam the door and the vehicle moves, first
slowly down the street, but then it gains speed, taking off in the
direction of the town.

“Follow them!” I shout, making Jack wince as
he’s standing next to me.

Wherever Angel goes tonight, I’ll go too. I
don’t care if I have to chase her across the globe. This is the
second night I have with her, and I’m not going to waste a single
minute of it.

DURING THE
PAST couple days, the gym at my high school has been successfully
transformed into the hall of
Thousand and One Nights
. Kudos to
our outstanding ball committee. Lanterns and colorful veils
decorate the walls and ceiling, cardboard castles with flame-like
tops fill the corners. The air is thick with a distinct musky
scent. I’m sitting with five of my best friends at a table with a
yellow cloth, a flower bouquet in the center, and then Peter Pan at
my side.

Of course, no
one knows who he really is. To them, he’s just a friend of mine, a
last minute decision who wouldn’t take off his leather jacket in
spite of the twenty-five degrees it must be in here. They all seem
to like him, even though he casts an uncomfortable look at me every
now and then. Of course he would—they are talking about video games
and the pros and cons of a stick shift car versus an automatic
right now. Things that, as far as I can tell, don’t exist in
Neverland.

“Overwhelmed?” I ask him under my breath as I
lean closer to his side.

“A little,” he confesses.

“Now you get an idea of how I felt last
night, when you broke the news to me that you’re actually a figure
out of my favorite fairytale.”

Peter smirks. “Ah, you can’t fool me. You
liked the flying. I could tell by your excited”—he waggles his
brows—“screams.”

Screams? Yes. Excited? Not so much. “More
hysteric, I’d say.” But I have to give myself credit for handling
this weird situation surprisingly well. Okay, I had half a night
and an entire day to get used to the thought of Peter Pan being my
date tonight. After the spinning of my mind and my questioning my
sanity had lessened toward the morning, I even got a couple hours
of sleep.

The hardest thing about all this was not
telling my little sisters. They would freak out if they knew. And
with my parents so not living in a fantasy world, I don’t want
anybody to sell me out and earn me a visit with the shrink.

And then there’s still Hook.

I might not
have slept much last night, but the little time I was sucked into
the land of dreams was enough for his eyes and smile to haunt me
all the way down. And not in the bad sort. In fact, I was wondering
most of today how a young man as gentle as Jamie could actually run
with a pack of pirates. Worse, be their ruthless captain. Maybe it
was the lack of the long, curly wig, the wide hat and Disney’s
infamous red brocade coat that deceived me, but I just can’t
imagine him being capable of kidnapping or murder.

Then again, what do I really know about him?
Nothing. It certainly is wise to stop thinking about his lips
brushing mine and keeping close to Peter. He’s the good guy after
all. Everybody knows that. Even though in my mind he always was a
boy of maybe fifteen years with green clothes and a funny hat with
a red feather. Definitely not the grown man who sits in the chair
next to me now and reads the label of the Red Bull bottle in his
hand like he’s never seen a more exotic juice.

He takes a swig—and grimaces. “Eew. Who
drinks such nasty stuff?” he whispers in my direction.

I laugh. “Want to get an orange juice or
something?” At his nod, I get up, but just as he is about to rise
and follow me, Sebastian Wilton turns to him and asks him about his
account name on Facebook. I know it’s mean, but I can’t resist
waiting with folded arms and a smirk for his answer.

Peter goes the safe way and slowly shakes his
head. “No Phasebook.” That gets Sebastian started on a gush about
social media and how it’s unfairly dammed by society when so many
possibilities come with it. Peter is a patient listener.

Since they are just starting to warm up to
each other, I don’t want to drag him with me. “I’ll get you a cup
of OJ,” I mouth and he nods, although he makes a helpless face at
me. Sebastian is a nice guy. I trust him to keep Peter in a good
mood until I’m back in a few minutes.

Unfortunately, I don’t get far. On the way to
the bar through the crowd around the dance floor, I run into
Melissa Strathford. She’d been living in my street through half of
our high school lives, but a couple of years ago, they moved to
Soho, London. I almost didn’t recognize her with her new hairstyle
that now is a pixie cut instead of the willowing blond mane she
loved so much.

Since we
haven’t seen in a while, I don’t get away with a simple
hi
. I
compliment her about her new hair, and she returns them about my
halterneck satin dress and the strappy sandals in silvery synthetic
leather I wear. Then we catch up on each other’s lives, even though
I leave out the most recent events including a pirate and a flying
visitor from Neverland.

Once every few minutes, I cut a glance back
to our table and check if Peter is still happily entertained.
Obviously, Sebastian does a good job. One time, Peter catches my
eyes across the room and makes a quirky face, sticking his tongue
out at me when no one seems to watch. He looks years younger at
that moment. Almost like the boy I imagined Peter Pan to be. The
gesture makes me chuckle, and I turn back to Melissa for the
umpteenth time during the past ten minutes. Except, this time my
gaze gets stuck on a striking set of eyes in the crowd.

Seawater blue.

An invisible chunk of ice slides down my
spine.

“Angelina, are you all right?” Melissa
touches my elbow and I shoot around to face her.

“What? Oh, yeah, sure.” At the same moment, I
pivot to find those haunting eyes again. They’re gone. Spinning on
the spot, an uncomfortable feeling nestles in my stomach. Did I
just imagine it? What if this dangerous pirate who apparently wants
to kidnap me has somehow found me at my school dance?

“I’m sorry, Mel,” I tell my friend, bouncing
uneasily on the balls of my feet. “Can we talk about this later? I
really need to get back to my friend over there.” I point at the
table behind me—and stiffen. Peter is no longer sitting with the
others. His chair is shoved back as if he rose in a hurry, his
bottle of Red Bull still standing on the table.

“Sure, see you then,” I hear Melissa say, but
I don’t pay her any attention. I need to find Peter. If he left the
table, there’s no doubt, Captain Hook is here.

With a
heartbeat matching the rhythm of the band on stage, I scan the
room. Where the heck is Peter? He was supposed to take care of me.
Wasn’t that the whole deal with me bringing him here as my date? To
have a bodyguard? And here I am, alone. With a pirate on the
loose.

Don’t panic
, I tell myself. I’m
in a gym where people stay packed together like sardines in a can.
No one would be so stupid as to try and kidnap someone from here.
Or so I hope.

Slowly, I wander from one end to the other,
sweeping the room with terrified glances. Gone is the longing
feeling I had after those intense dreams of last night. It’s
completely sucked out of me. All there’s left is a slight tremor of
my bones.

Someone says my name—quite close. And so
seductively, it makes the hair at the back of my neck stand on end.
I whirl about. My mouth’s dry and my stomach is churning, but
there’s no familiar face behind me. Obviously mistaken, a relieved
sigh leaves me. I turn front again.

And freeze.

“Jamie.” The word escapes me in a
whisper.

“Angel,” he replies.

As my eyes dart from left to right, searching
for the best way out, he takes a step closer. Breaking into my
personal space so easily, he gives me half a smile. I try to back
away, but he takes my hands and pulls me against him, slowly,
gently.

“What do you want from me?” I croak, somewhat
short of air.

Leaning down to my ear, he drawls, “We have
unfinished business.” His hands slide up my arms to linger on my
shoulders. The touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin. “If I
remember it right, you promised me a kiss last night.”

Breathing in the adventurous scent of the sea
mingled with tangerine brings back the horde of butterflies that I
bred in my stomach last night. “Things have changed,” I answer,
sounding anything but confident.

He inches back and lets a killer smirk loose
at me. “Have they now?”

I try to hold his intense gaze, but all I see
is a face to die for. At long last, I manage a nod.

“I see. No kiss then.” I almost crack a smile
at the boyish pout on his face. The silken hair falling over his
forehead now partly covers his right eye. “Maybe you agree to a
dance instead?”

And I say it
again:
Where the heck is
Peter?
He’s supposed to save me from an
ambush like this.

My heart
clips an unhealthy beat as Hook slowly moves me backward into the
middle of the dancing crowd. Both my hands still in his, he brings
them up to his neck. His warm skin so tempting to touch works like
glue on fingers.

Caught in the spell of his deep blue eyes,
the thought of escape loses priority.

He’s not
wearing the black hoodie tonight. But to my total astonishment,
white suits him even better than black. The button up shirt he
wears hangs over his dark skate pants and makes him almost blend in
with the casual wear of the majority of the male crowd. The only
thing he’s missing is a tie loosely wrapped around his neck, but
with the wild, predatory look of his, I can’t see that
happening.

Do you know these moments when you look at
someone and, within seconds, everything around you fades? When the
up-beat music you heard only seconds ago miraculously turns into
something soft and sweet? When your knees buckle and your heart
wants to give out for no obvious reason? Well, this is what happens
to me right now. Only there’s no chance for me to fall with James
Hook’s arms enveloping me like my personal safety lines.

He starts to sway me to the music. “Someone’s
tense. Do I make you nervous?”

That would be the understatement of the
century.

“Why are you scared of me, Angel?” he
whispers, his face closer to mine now.

“Because you’re a pirate.”

“
Says the boy
who almost killed me last night when he shoved me off your
balcony?”

“Says Peter Pan.”

That makes Hook chuckle, only I can’t tell if
it’s wry or amused. “So am I to believe that he told you everything
else about Neverland, too? And you believe it now?”

Steeling my nerves with renewed
determination, I challenge him with a look. “He told me that you’re
after me to get to him.”

“Oh, he’s right. I’m definitely after you,
Angel.” Hook dips his head just a little and nuzzled the side of my
face.

Jeez, how can something so wrong feel so
right?

“
But why
would I want to get to him?” he asks with just that bit confusion
in his voice that makes me pull back and search his
face.

“Because he has a treasure that you obviously
want,” I snap, as if he really needed that bit of information.

A second
ticks away before he speaks again. This time with leashed
annoyance. “Is that so?”

I don’t know what to make of it. “Are you
telling me it was a lie?” Not that I would believe Hook, if he said
so.

“Aye.”

Like I said, I don’t believe him. But that
doesn’t stop me from asking, “Why are you really here then?”

The hard muscles in his jaw soften and he
strokes the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “I already told you
last night. I’m here because of you.”

“What am I to you, that you felt the need to
leave Neverland for me?” Gosh, am I really having this
conversation? Somehow I get the feeling I read this book one too
many times to my sisters. It must have gotten to my head. But then
I remember how Peter carried me over London in his arms the
previous night, and all doubt is blown away.

“You’re everything to me,” Hook answers. His
tender voice dares me to believe him. But I can’t. He’s the mean
guy. The pirate everyone fears. So why don’t I? No way in hell
should I be dancing with him and enjoy his touch so much. “Come
outside with me, Angel, and I will tell you everything you need to
know.”