Hook's Pan (12 page)

Tipping her face up, he smiled when her lips parted in a breathless O of wonder. “Oh my wow,” she chuckled, “is this for real?”

Seeing it as she might, James looked up. The translucent bubble covering his ship gleamed, refracting the light of the thousands of fish swimming above, below, and around them.

This was the Seren Seas. A land filled with wonder, and unique to all of Kingdom. Tiny dancer slugs, appearing like bejeweled magenta skirts, undulated gracefully around them by the droves. Scuttle fish—with their foot-like neon green appendage—scuttled about on the sea floor. Brain coral throbbed and pulsed with veins and atop them frog fish extended long tongues, lapping up the spawning fly fish.

Silver nurse sharks, gleaming like molten silver, tended to their tiny, quicksilver pups. And a giant, bucktoothed orange-hued whale, opened and closed its mouth, dragging in bucketfuls of glowing blue plankton.

The water itself was lovelier here than in any other part of Kingdom. Blue, with bands of every other color of the rainbow swirling through. Very few in Kingdom ever got to see the beauty of the sea maidens’ realms, it was by invitation only. If you stumbled upon this region, and were not invited, the reception would be much different.

Dark and stormy, violent and brutal.

“What do you think?” he asked softly.

Her emerald green eyes were wide as she looked back at him. “I’m…” she laughed, “there are no words. Thank you.”

They shared a look without blinking and in her gaze he read her sincerity. A part of him yearned for that look, for that wonder, wanted to make it his, if only because within her body was trapped the soul of his beloved. But, though he could read the awe, he could not see any familiarity of it.

Clenching his jaw, he nodded. “Walk with me to the railing, this is not the best part.”

Clutching his elbow, she nodded, following his easy meanderings. The bubble that enveloped the ship and helped them to breathe, also kept out all smells. As much as Hook loved this realm, he missed the scents of the upper world.

“This land is different from anything I’ve ever seen or could have even imagined.”

The words pierced his soul. Danika claimed the memories were inside, but it didn’t seem so to him. Beautiful as this woman was, this was not his mate, could never be. There’d only been one in his heart, and that was all there would ever be.

Gripping the rail, she leaned forward. “I can’t imagine anything better than this. What could possibly be better than this?” Her radiant smile tripped through her eyes.

“This is the maidens’ outer realm, we’ve not come into their region proper.”

They didn’t talk for a while. He studied her while she studied the land, comparing her to his Talia. Trying in vain to find any sort of similarity.

Where Talia had been svelte, Trishelle was curvy. Talia had been round cheeked, Trishelle’s cheekbones were sharp slashes and when she spoke, occasionally a dimple peeked out on the right side. Her nose was pert; Talia’s had been a small button. Her neck was long, swan-like, and she wasn’t very tall, the crown of her head only came mid-chest on him. Talia’s pearl pink tail had lifted her high out of the water; their faces had always been level. But for all their differences, he realized (not somewhat disturbingly) that Trishelle was very appealing.

Extracting his arm from her grip, he drew the necklace from around his neck, gripping it tight in his palm. He hadn’t returned to the maidens’ seas since the day of her death. Hadn’t felt strong enough to confront her family, to admit that he hadn’t protected her as he should have.

Closing his eyes, he brought the locket to his lips.

“What is that?” her voice broke him from his musings.

A private man by nature, sharing wasn’t something he often did. But it’d been so long since he had, so long since he’d let down his guard and he was tired of always being so quiet, of keeping everything inside. Talia had known him once, and it’d been freeing. Clenching his jaw, he didn’t look at her, but silently handed her the locket.

“Can I?”

He felt her glance, saw her finger play with the lock.

Shrugging, he didn’t answer. The locket clicked open and the silence was deafening. She stared at the photo so long he doubted himself, doubted he should have allowed her to see, to hold the tangible evidence of his pain.

Two days before their wedding he’d ordered a painting of Talia be made. She’d been resting on a bed of moss and coral, wearing nothing but the pearls he’d caught for her, draped and roped around her body. A crown of pearls and jewels had rested on her head, her cheeks had been brightened, her lips red as the juice of a pomegranate. There’d been love in her eyes, because she’d been staring at him and he at her while the artist had worked.

“She was beautiful.” Her fingers traced the small image inside.

Turning, he gazed down at her blonde head. “Can you recall nothing? Is any part of her awareness within you?”

Small, white teeth nibbled on the corner of her lip. “I’m sorry. There’s not. I told you, they have the wrong girl. I’m just me. Trisha, a wise-ass who works at a library with dreams of one day acting on the Broadway stage. I am not now, or have I ever been, a mermaid.”

He didn’t sense her being cavalier about the situation, so much as helpless.

“Of course.”

A low humming resonated around them, lifting the fine hairs on his arms. She looked up. “What is that?”

“This is what I wanted to show you.”

The sound began to gradually shift, increase in intensity, until it rang out like a choir of bells, pitching high and low. Wrapping them up in a velvety hug of thousands of voices.

“Siren song,” he murmured, turning back to her.

Her eyes were closed and a smile radiated off her face, brighter than the light of any sun. She swayed, lost in the movement and rhythm of the music. Her feet started tapping, and then her hips began to move until finally her arms and head joined in. She was dancing, completely entranced and lost to it.

Her movements almost seemed to anticipate each crescendo. Talia had never danced to her music, her voice had crafted something to make an angel weep, but she’d never seemed to appreciate the dulcet quality of it.

The sound of siren song could be deadly to those caught unawares, especially to males, that was why he’d forced his men to become immune to the pull. He could appreciate it, but not become entranced by it.

Trishelle was not entranced.

Entrancement meant you could not move, blink, speak, or do a thing other than lean over and listen. Strain so hard to hear it that eventually you’d fall off the ship to your death, embraced within Calypso’s bosom for all eternity.

She was becoming one with it and he could not pull his eyes off her. He’d have watched her for the rest of his life, but once the music ended, so did she.

Her cheeks were rosy, her skin flushed as she finally opened liquid green eyes and stared at him. “That was the most beautiful thing ever.”

“Agreed.”

She fought a smile. “Thank you.”

Turning back to the rail, he cleared his throat. “Isle of Seren.”

A large castle built of coral and sea stone stood before them. Maids swam everywhere, their shimmering tails flicking behind them as they twittered and pointed at his passing ship. Some faces he recognized.

The fiery red hair of Maiven, trailing behind her like flame, caught his eye. Of course she’d see him first. Of all the maidens, he’d dreaded seeing Talia’s grandmother most. Within the sea realm, none aged. Maiven’s skin was as firm and tight as a nubile youth, but her memory was ancient and her love for her granddaughter unswerving. Her orangey red tail flicked behind her in agitation as she swam off, headed toward the castle gates. Clearly going to warn the twins of his arrival.

He sighed.

Soon a crowd of maidens began to gather, and with them a few of their mates. It was rare for a maiden to give birth to a male, which was why most sought their mates in the upper realm. Those who’d known him were in the front, watching their ship with a mixture of curiosity and pain.

Amani and her mate Kai of the eastern Maji Kingdom. Amani’s large doe eyes roamed the length of Hook’s face, a question burned in their depths:
What are you doing here?

Kai seemed perplexed, his swarthy good looks screwed into a tight frown as he stared between his mate and her flickering robin blue tail and him. Finally, he turned and headed back to the hutch they shared.

But Hook knew, and even understood the source of Amani’s animosity. She’d never forgiven him for taking Talia away. A part of him wished he never had, if he’d not asked her to join him that day she’d still be alive.

Amidst the crowd he spotted another group he recognized, and couldn’t stop his answering grin. Talia had called them the furious four.

Nixie, with her flowing white tresses and blood red tail. Aolani, dusky skinned, black hair and ebony pearl tail. Gabriella, blue hair, blue eyes, aquamarine tail and Viz, hair so blonde it almost appeared white with a golden tail.

He’d always had a particular fondness for the quartet, they were the hellions of their realm, a characteristic he’d always related to. Laughing and twirling, the girls threw him air kisses before swimming off with a gleeful song in their wake.

“Was that a man I saw?” Trishelle broke into his thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“But, how? We’re underwater and I didn’t see a bubble around him.”

Turning to her, he leaned against the railing. “Soon we will disembark. The monarchs will demand an audience. If they agree to our being here, they’ll share their magic so that we might breathe in the under as he does.”

“And if they don’t?” She shivered, hugging her arms to her chest.

“Then it’s Davy Jones’ Locker for us.” He smiled, patting her shoulder gently when he noticed the fluttering beat of her pulse in the side of her neck. “They’ve known for some time we’re coming, if they’d truly not wanted us we’d have died during our passage here. Do not worry, Trishelle, you will be fine.”

“Captain,” Smee’s voice interrupted them.

“Aye?” He looked at his first mate, who was now scrubbed and wearing fresh clothing. His men knew the maidens would play so long as they presented a pretty face; the maids had a weakness for anything shiny.

“We are here.”

Trisha hadn’t known what to expect, but not this. This place went beyond imagining, and after everything she’d already seen, how was that even possible?

The floors were made of gleaming marble with flecks of silver and bronze throughout, the walls of hammered gold. Crystal hung from the ceilings and fronds of green swayed and danced. Massive towering stems with equally large jeweled petals blossomed as they passed. Tiny puffs of gold rained down on them from the pistils. She wished she could inhale its fragrance, but Hook had explained so long as they walked inside the pocket of air they’d be unable to smell anything. When they’d disembarked a piece of the ship’s bubble had attached itself to them.

It carried just enough air for thirty minutes, which meant they wouldn’t have a chance in hell of breaking surface if the king denied his magic.

This place was beautiful, but so potentially deadly she couldn’t enjoy it. Her knees knocked the closer she got to the gigantic, pearl doors.

Two mermaids swam before them, their white tails swishing back and forth as they gracefully moved ahead. Trisha couldn’t get over what she was seeing. She’d read the Little Mermaid, watched the movie and always thought how cool it would be to actually meet one someday.

But to actually see it in person—totally different. It was almost macabre to see skin give way to scales. As pretty as they all were, it didn’t make it any less strange.

And the women, they were all breathtaking. It wasn’t hard to see why Hook had fallen for one; they had an ethereal quality about them that beguiled the same way their song had earlier. Grabbing a corner of her dress, she began to fidget as images of her gasping for breath and her face contorting into a horrible, ugly mask slammed into her thoughts.