“Your objection is noted.” My pirate glowers at me. “Now lie back.”
“No.” I try to smack him away, but my body isn’t cooperating.
My pirate takes my forearm and gently lowers me onto the bed. “What’s this?” He holds up my only weapon, the fountain pen.
“It’s mine.”
“Mmhmm.” He pockets it then sits heavily beside me. “How bad is it, Sky?”
Pinpricks of pain lace through me, and I gasp.
My pirate takes my hand, squeezing it hard. “Just breathe.”
“Shit. It’s not looking good. How long until we’re at Blackbeard’s Cay?”
“Another hour. Maybe two, depending on the crosswinds.”
Skylights stands, his face shadowy as the lantern swings behind him. “The sooner the better. Huran will have the right medicines for this. My stores are depleted.”
“Cap’n?” I can barely see Cookson, but I recognize his voice.
My pirate turns to him. “She needs to eat. Bring some bread and butter from the larder.”
“No.” The thought of food turns my stomach. “I can’t. I’ll throw up again. No offense, Cookson.” Why do I care if he’s offended? He’s a pirate.
“None taken, miss.”
My mind tries to grasp onto something, but it slips away. What’s bothering me? I mean, other than the gangrene-filled mermaid bite.
My pirate thrusts the pitcher at Cookson. “More water then, in a fresh tureen. Take this pitcher and dump it over the side.”
“Yes, Cap’n.” Cookson leaves.
There’s that word again. My mind wraps around it, inspecting it from every angle. It doesn’t fit. Like a puzzle piece you find stuck to the bottom of your foot when the puzzle’s already been completed. “Wait.” I blink against the darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. “Wait a minute.”
“I’m going to need to wrap it with fresh seaweed. Hold her steady, Captain.” Skylight’s voice sounds like it’s coming through a tunnel.
“I’ve got her.” My pirate leans over me, his grip on my shoulders.
“Why do they keep calling you captain?” I look up at him and try to blink away the black spots. “Why are they doing that?”
“I suppose if one of them dared call me James, I’d have to make an example out of them.”
Skylights snorts.
I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me. From the slight curve of his lips, I can guess he is.
“When I’m done with this, I should look at the wound in your shoulder again.”
“Fuck off, Sky. Take care of the girl.”
“Working on it. All right, I have the poultice ready. Moira, I’m sorry, but this will hurt. I wish you’d taken the pill I left for you.”
At that moment, so do I. Maybe it could stop the spinning in my head, the confusion that seems to eat me up from the inside out. My pirate is Hook. He’s been Hook this whole time disguised as a crew member.
“But your hand.” I glance down at where he holds me. “It’s still there.”
His dark brows draw together. “I don’t follow.”
