Hook's Pan (24 page)

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Authors: Marie Hall

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Hook's Pan
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The lights immediately winked out. He squeezed her tight to his side. She was glad he was holding onto her, because without the glow she couldn’t see a thing. Trembling against his side, the warmth of his breathed tickle her ear.

 

“This is the realm of the Annelida.” As he spoke, the lights winked back on—one and then another and then another, until it appeared as if they were floating through the stars again.

 

Smiling, she curled her fingers into his shirt.

 

“What is an Annelida?”

 

“We sail, not on water, but on air currents. This is a glowworm cavern.”

 

Grinning from ear to ear, she inhaled the icy cool breeze. “We’re floating on air? That’s, it’s amazing,” she laughed, again startling the little creatures whose lights immediately winked out as her laughter echoed back at them.

 

“Do you like it?” She could hear the smile in his words.

 

“I love it. It’s beautiful, amazing. I never knew anything like this existed.”

 

Shifting, he tucked her into the crook of his embrace. She laid her head on his chest
 
and waited for the lights to return.

 

“These are creatures that spin our dreams. When Sircco told you that magic lived in your world too, he was right. The annelid lives on Earth, in the deepest, darkest corners they spin dreams. And did you know,” his thumb caressed the side of her face, “that if you hold one, the dream of your heart shall be known to you.”

 

“Really?”

 

The green and blue tinted lights cast shadows on his face, making him appear almost sinister, but she wasn’t scared. Her heart was racing, and her mouth was dry, but it wasn’t from fear. “Can I hold one?”

 

“You can try. They are very shy creatures.”

 

“I don’t like bugs. Is it slimy? If it is, I probably can’t.” She shuddered. She hated fishing. Hated. It. Bugs and her, they didn’t play nice. In fact, her policy was, see a bug, kill it dead. And if it was a roach, kill it dead at least twice.

 

The lights danced across his lips as he grinned. “They are soft and fuzzy, close your eyes if it helps you.”

 

What did it feel like to hold a dream? And were dreams in Kingdom any different than the ones on Earth? Curiosity finally won out over her fear of holding a slimy bug. She exhaled. “Okay, I’ll close my eyes.”

 

Guiding her, he led Trisha to the edge of the boat. How in the world did the ship fit in here? The boat was massive, she knew that from personal experience, and yet it wasn’t scraping against the rocky surface that was so close all she had to do was extend her hand a fraction of an inch to touch it. Trying to make sense of this strange world would give her brain a Charley horse, it was easier to just accept that here the laws of gravity and physics and even common sense did not belong.

 

“Now,” his warm breath fanned her ear, made her stomach swirl and dive with delicious sensations of need. “If one wants to, it will.”

 

So hard to focus when all she could feel and smell, was Hook. But the tantalizing possibility of discovering her heart’s desire had its claws in her and wouldn’t let go.

 

Wetting her lips, she whispered, “Hi, little worm, I’d really like to hold one of you. I think.”

 

His low chuckle made her skin tingle with a rush of blood. The man had the sexiest laugh she’d ever heard. Sexiest voice even. Hugh Grant who?

 

Something soft and furry plopped into her hand. She yelped and Hook’s warm thumb pressed into the base of her neck, the rigid length of his body stepped even closer, sealing off any space between them.

 

“Ssh,” he whispered, lips scraping the line of her jaw, “relax. The annelid are timid little creatures, they must feel safe, otherwise you will see nothing.”

 

Tipping her head back to rest against his shoulder, she tried to forget how badly she wanted him inside her. How, with a word, a touch, he was fanning the ember of need still pulsing bright and hot from this morning.

 

“Relax.” He kissed her neck and her skin prickled.

 

“I can’t relax when you’re pawing me like that,” she panted and though she didn’t hear the sound, she felt laughter move through his body.

 

He must have finally decided to play nice, because he was being good. Just rubbing her neck in soothing circles and it actually did begin to calm her. Trisha closed her eyes, losing herself in the touch, thinking of nothing.

 

The annelid began to move, and Hook was right. It was soft. Actually, it wasn’t bad at all. With eyes closed, it was easy to imagine it was the world’s smallest kitten.

 

“Now,” he nuzzled her hair, “pet it slowly, it must be lulled to weave its dream.”

 

Hypnotized by the sound of his voice and the movements of the glowworm’s furry little body, she played with the superfine fuzz. Seconds later, an image began to form in her mind, blurry at first, like a scrambled cable channel coming slowly into focus until the colors were rich and the image vibrant.

 

It was daylight, bright, with hardly a cloud in the sky. Birds were swooping and diving and she was resting on a large, hot rock—sunbathing. She loved sunbathing, and could so rarely do it. She hardly ever came to the Upper world. Maiven hated for her to leave the realm, said the humans could not be trusted, that her powers were only strong beneath the waves.

 

But it was only sunbathing, surely her grandmother worried too much.

 

Rubbing her hands down her pearl pink scales, she smiled as waves slapped against her rock. Nixie had chased her for hours today. It’d been fun, but now she was exhausted and needed a rest. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a second she’d feel better.

 

She had no idea how long she’d lain there, but something jerked her awake. The sense that something, or someone watched. Heart trapped in her throat, she sat up with a cry of alarm.

 

A pair of black eyes stared down at her. Eyes as dark as volcanic rock, studded with flecks of silver. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

 

Sircco had proposed to her last night, she loved him as a brother and had accepted out of a sense of love and fealty. She was to be his consort. So why in that moment could she not even remember his features? All she could see was the onyx eyes rimmed in starlight, trapped by his gaze as a dragonfly in amber.

 

Stubble dusted his hard, square jaw. And when he smiled the world seemed suddenly brighter. “What is your name, maiden fair?”

 

“Talia,” she whispered, unable to say more, to even think.

 

“Talia,” he leaned over the rail of his great ship, “you do not know me yet, but someday you will, and you will fall as madly in love with me as I have with you just now.”

 

His eyes, his smile, they were all hers, had always been and always would be.

 

Then the vision shifted again. This time she’d crawled upon the shore waiting for her lover to arrive. Tomorrow was to be their wedding. All of Seren would attend. Plucking at a water flower along the bank, she smiled and held it to her nose. Its lemony scent made her hum. She was happy, deliriously, wonderfully happy.

 

“Who are you?” a tiny voice snapped her from her reverie.

 

Startled, she sat up. A young boy with dirt smudged cheeks and greasy hair floated in front of her. Dressed in green tights and a dark green holey shirt, he looked a fright and in desperate need of bathing. Holding onto a small dagger, he flicked at its sharp tip with his thumbnail. His eyes were wide and filled with a warning light.

 

An immediate sense of unease filled her bones. Why was the boy looking at her in that way?

 

“Who are you?” he asked again. “I see you cavorting with that mercenary Hook and I don’t like it.”

 

She clenched her jaw. “What is he to you?”

 

James had never mentioned this boy to her. Who was this child that seemed to know her lover?

 

“He stole something from me,” the boy sneered, “something valuable and precious. I want it back.”

 

What was this child talking about? Talia knew Hook was a pirate and knew he looted, as any proper pirate should, but even James had scruples and she’d never seen him steal from a boy. James had only ever taken from those who had too much. Those who could afford to share.

 

“My pearl. I fished it out of the sea; it was a golden, magic pearl that could grant one wish. He stole it from me. It is the only one like it and I want it back!” he yelled, advancing slowly as he eyed her throat.

 

Gripping the chain around her neck, the one with a golden pearl dangling off it, she shook her head. “Child, I am of the sea, golden pearls have no inherent magic to them, and if you look hard enough you’ll find another. But he did not steal this from you. I found this.”

 

She remembered it well. It had been the first time they’d made love. She’d felt so overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment that she’d swam toward a coral bed she’d known housed the precious golden pearls. Bringing it to him, he’d made love to her again before lovingly piercing the tip of the fat pearl. Threading a chain through it, he’d slipped it around her neck and told her a pearl so beautiful deserved to be worn by someone more deserving.

 

It was the day she’d fallen madly, irrevocably in love with her Hook.

 

“No, boy,” she shook her head harder. “This is mine. I do not know where your pearl has gone off to, but I promise you that—”

 

“No!” he snapped and pointed at her throat. “Do you think I wouldn’t recognize my treasure? Give it to me now.” He stomped his foot in the air.

 

Swallowing hard, glancing over her shoulder, she could only pray that James would arrive soon. This child terrified her.

 

“No,” she whispered, softer now. “This is my gift.”

 

Light blazed in his suddenly inhuman eyes and a snarl curled his upper lip. “Tell you what, maiden,” he flipped the blade in his hand back and forth, “you can keep the pearl, if you play a game with me.”

 

This was a terrible idea; she knew it, to the bottom of her soul. “What game, boy?” She clenched the pearl for strength.

 

“Chicken. Spread your arms and lay very, very still.”

 

Fear made her mouth dry and her voice weak and scratchy. “Why?”

 

“Because I’ve been practicing,” he smirked, “and I want to see how good I am. I won’t hurt you, I swear it.”

 

“No.” She shook her head, scooting back on her bottom, digging her fingers into the sand as she retreated toward the safety of the water. In the water she was strong, and fast. But the tide had pulled back and where ten minutes ago the waves had lapped at her tail, it now seemed impossibly far away.

 

“Don’t move.” He sneered, moving so fast that in seconds he was upon her, hands gripping her shoulders as he dragged her back to where she’d been.

 

She screamed, bucking and twisting, trying to push him off her. But the child was covered in fairy dust and unbelievably strong. He simply gripped her tighter, almost lifting her off the ground. He tossed her none to gently to the packed sand, making her lose her breath.

 

Yanking a rope from off his belt, he wrapped it around her wrists and then bound them to a rock above her head. Panic threaded through her head, filled her eyes with tears.

 

“Please,” she pleaded, “release me. You can have the pearl, whatever you want.”

 

He crowed like a rooster, and shook his head. “I don’t want it anymore. I want to play.” Reaching into a back pocket he withdrew an apple. “Take this in your hand and do not move.”

 

She tried to curl her fingers under, but the strength of the bindings wouldn’t let her budge an inch.

 

“Hold this.” He shoved it into her half curled fists.

 

“No.” She tried to toss it away, but there was no momentum behind her swing, it simply rolled to the ground.

 

Growling, he grabbed the apple and spread her fingers manually and none too gently. She sobbed. “Release me, boy.”

 

“Hold it right, or I shall fillet you like the fish you are,” he spat.

 

Trembling, confused, she bit her lip. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically, “I will not hurt you, wench. Hold the apple, I will throw the dagger and pierce its sweet flesh, that is all.”

 

“But the blade might tear through my hand.” Couldn’t he understand how dangerous and stupid this was? Didn’t he realize or care that he’d hurt her?

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