Hook's Pan (15 page)

Several yards away she spotted the Jolly Roger. A constant stream of mermaids drifted in and out of the ship; hopefully the men were having a good enough time that they’d leave her alone a while longer, at least until she was able to get back home. She had no desire to befriend an entire ship of pirates.

The entrance to the garden loomed before them finally and the sight of it made Trisha’s jaw drop. Several years ago she’d traveled with a friend to the redwood forest in California. The towering trees had been a marvel, but that had nothing on this. Each strand of swaying kelp was as thick as one of those trunks had been, their jade color gleaming neon, lighting up the darkened pathway with a sort of ghostly ambience. She wasn’t sure whether she really wanted to enter after all, but Hook didn’t stop or look back, just continued down the path leaving her to herself.

Shrugging, she decided to just do it. If she died here, maybe she’d finally wake up from the weirdness. The moment she stepped foot inside, a flicker of light caught her attention. Blue mushroom looking things were stuck to the undersides of the kelp and they were glowing too.

“Wow,” she breathed, touching one, and then yelped when it crawled off.

“Sea snail.” Maiven’s voice sounded much more sweet than it had earlier with Hook.

“Slippery little buggers,” she muttered, wiping her hand on her gown with a shudder. Snails were so not her thing. At Maiven’s odd look, Trisha waved her fingers. “Just a joke. I’m Trisha.”

Maiven took her outstretched hand, hers were soft and warm and when Trisha looked at their clasped hands, she noticed she didn’t have the black talons like Sirenade did. It looked as human as hers, except maybe for the little bit of extra webbing between the fingers.

“I keep hoping I’ll see her.” Her words echoed with a hint of great pain, enough to make Trisha’s heart clench in her chest.

“I’m sorry to be such a disappointment.”

“No.” Maiven smiled softly. “I’m sorry to make you feel so. It is only that, I never got the chance to tell her I loved her. We had a fight that day you see. I was so angry that she’d chosen to leave us, leave me. I cursed her name, told her I’d never forgive her.” Large tears gathered at the corners of her eyes again. “I’ve lived with the pain of that forever. I loved my granddaughter and I’ve only ever wanted,” she swallowed hard, knuckling tears from her eyes, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to this.”

Her laugh was bitter and all Trisha wanted to do was help her heal that pain. Gathering her courage, she took Maiven’s hands in her own and squeezed. “Then tell her.”

“What?”

“Tell me. If it’s true, that her soul lives inside me, then surely she hears you, right?”

“I…I,” she blinked, “are you sure? May I?”

Biting her lower lip she nodded, and braced herself to hear the mermaid’s deepest wounds.

“Talia, my beauty,” Maiven began, brushing a knuckle across Trisha’s cheek, “I’m so sorry. I cannot lie and say I’ve forgiven him, but I did you a great wrong. I could never hate you my sweet little maiden. Please say that you forgive me.”

A lump gathered in the back of Trisha’s throat. She had to clear it twice before she trusted herself to speak and when she did, she knew just what to say. The words had been on her tongue forever, waiting for the chance to be spoken.

“I forgive you and I’ve always loved you, great mother. My love for him never diminished my love for you.”

Maiven gasped, her hand shook as she covered her mouth with it.

Even Trisha was breathing heavy and her vision had grown conspicuously blurry, because those words hadn’t been her own. They’d been trapped somewhere deep inside, and rang with sincerity. Wiping the back of her mouth with her hand, she gave a wobbly smile.

Maiven pulled Trisha into a tight hug. “I do not know who told you to call me that, but that is just what my Talia always said. Thank you, human. Thank you, may the Great Goddess bless you.” Then placing a quick kiss on her cheek she swam out of the garden, leaving Trisha alone with her thoughts.

Staring at her feet, she wondered if she was possibly possessed, because how else could she explain that out of body experience? Talking about loving him. Who? Hook? Was she crazy saying something so stupid? And why was her heart beating so hard, threatening like it wanted to pound out of her chest? She bunched the fabric of her gown in her fist and searched for him.

Why was it that she wanted to go to him? Why did she want to find him? What could he possibly have to offer her?

And yet she was walking deeper into, not out of, the garden. “Hook,” she called.

He must not have been too far, because a second later she heard him. “Trishelle?” he answered, sounding like he was right behind her, she twirled and her pulse stuttered at the sight of him.

Bathed in the glow of sea life, his black hair swayed gently behind him. Making him look like he was outside, standing in a soft breeze. His shirt was opened at the collar and he exuded such obvious masculinity it was hard for her not to react, to feel her body rush with blood and shoot with a fiery prism of heat, filling her limbs with need and longing.

Swallowing hard, she didn’t know what to say. This experience was too surreal, too strange, she had no way of expressing herself.

“Come.” He held out his hook and she liked that he didn’t try to hide that part of him. He was as comfortable with that hand as he was with his other.

Feeling reckless and bold, she took it, gripping it as hard as she wanted, needed to. Nerves twisted her stomach in knots, made her knees weak and her pulse flutter. “Where are you taking me?” she asked as he headed deeper within the garden.

The kelp was so high it felt a little like walking through a twisting maze of green. Everywhere she looked there was something to watch. At one turn the head of an eel popped out, florescent yellow, and sparks of blue energy popped off its form before it slinked its head back into its hidey-hole. Another molten flash of silver winked past her eye, just before a large, menacing black shadow swam overhead. She shuddered thinking what that might have been. Then a tiny fish with the cutest furry face she’d ever seen wiggled itself between the folds of her gown, before rolling onto its back and running its belly underneath her fingers.

“I want you to see something.”

She sighed, dropping his hook. “Please,” she pinched her brow, “I’m not trying to be insensitive, but this has been a hard day. Everyone talking about Talia, looking at me but not really seeing me, almost hoping somehow as if by wish alone to bring her back—” she didn’t know what else to say, how else to say it, that wouldn’t make her sound like a jerk.

“If you’re quite finished,” his lips twitched, “I wanted to show you this.” He pushed aside a curtain of kelp and she ahh’d at the sight that greeted her.

An oasis of flowers within the kelp grotto. There were flowers everywhere, bursting from the very tips of each stalk. Large, pink-petaled tulips. Or at least they sort of looked like tulips, but they hung like bluebonnets and hanging from the center of each were gigantic stamens curved into the shape of a seat.

“Would you like to swing?”

Her eyes widened. “I can sit on it?”

“It’s why this is here, a place for the children to come and play.” Leading her toward the nearest one, he helped her up.

She couldn’t help but shiver at the strength of his arms; he’d held her like she weighed little more than a feather. Of course they were underwater, but still…it was kind of nice. She held on as he began to gently push her swing. Trisha worried it wouldn’t hold her weight, but after a while she relaxed and enjoyed the ride. The swing was sturdy and each time she swung forward the chime of bells rang out around them.

The pollen itself wasn’t sticky either, more like gold flakes that swirled and danced through the water. A rich scent of plumeria filled her nose. This was like every four-year-old fantasy she’d ever had come to life.

“You know I haven’t done this in forever. It’s kind of fun. Though this isn’t like any swing set I’ve ever been on before.”

“I wanted to apologize for what’s happened tonight,” he said and she frowned, twirling in her seat to look back at him.

“Why?”

He didn’t stop pushing, but his eyes took on a faraway gleam. “Because you’re right, it isn’t fair that we should all look at you with the hope of seeing someone else inside.”

“Well, it does make me feel like a bit of a loser.” She sighed. “But I can’t say I don’t understand it either. I guess if I lost someone I loved that much I’d be tempted to do the same.”

“She wasn’t perfect you know. She had her flaws, as we all do.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. I find we generally tend to believe the best in those who’ve passed away.” She turned back around.

One final push, and then he walked around her, taking a seat on the sea grass by her feet. Plucking up a thin steam, he twirled it with his thumb and finger. “She had a horrible temper. And whenever I’d say something to irritate her she had a nasty habit of tossing a wave at me.” He laughed and she smiled.

“You really loved her, huh?”

“I did. I do. She used to tell me,” he looked deep into her eyes, searching her face, “that I wasn’t bad, simply misunderstood.”

His dimpled grin made her heart pitter-patter. “And do you agree? Because I have to say…I don’t really agree. I’ve read your tales. You’re quite dastardly, Hook.”

Scrubbing his jaw, his eyes twinkled. “Don’t believe everything you read. Though you’re right, I’m certainly not misunderstood. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it knowingly.”

“Well you know,” she extended her legs and leaned back, causing the swing to move again, “I always preferred the bad boys anyway. Good is so boring.”

He laughed and she was startled to realize how much she liked the sound of it. It was rich and heady and made her dizzy with need.

“She used to say that too.”

She groaned.

“Don’t worry, little bird, I’m not saying that because I think she’ll come back. I let the possibility of her go a long time ago. But you cannot deny the truth either. It just is.”

It was hard to understand him sometimes. Trisha wasn’t sure if someone came to her claiming to be the reincarnated person of a lover she’d once known and been madly in love with that she’d be so nice about it.

Of all the people she expected should want Talia back, he topped the list.

“Why are you being so nice to me? Somehow I doubt you’re like this with everyone.”

Tearing the stem in half, he lifted his brows. “No. Definitely not. Which is why I’m in no rush to head back to the ship. Aboard the vessel I have to be someone else. Someone they respect and fear. And while I enjoy the perks of the job, always being on is exhausting. With you I don’t feel the need to be anyone other than myself. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Something she could relate to. “I understand completely.”

His look was steady, he was giving her his full attention and she found that she liked that too. Dangerous how much she was coming to like about the man.

“It is exhausting, to always have to pretend like you’re okay, like nothing’s bothering you. Because who wants to hear your sob story anyway, right? People say ‘how are you doing?’ but they don’t really want you to say, ‘shit, I’m dying, it hurts, sometimes I just want to quit.’”

He went absolutely still; only his nostrils flared.

“Do you understand?” she whispered.

“I think I do.”

Searching for something else to say since he didn’t seem inclined to speak on that further, she asked, “Earlier when we were walking here, why weren’t the mermaids looking at you?”

He lifted a brow. “They weren’t?”

“Nope. In fact, they were so
obviously
not looking that it was weird.”

Eyes narrowing just slightly he leaned back on his hand. “Down here love is honored. When a maiden claims a mate, even if only temporarily, none would dare to look upon him. It is a sign of respect.”

Then why hadn’t they been looking? Had he been claimed by someone and she didn’t know it? When Sirenade had kissed him, had it been more than just giving him air?