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The wound was almost completely healed. There was still blood staining his clothes, but the part of his skin where he’d been stabbed was sporting an angry pink scar that was fading by the second.
Hook’s injuries two nights earlier had been worse than William’s, I would grant him that, but there still seemed to be a pretty big difference in the rate of healing.
William sniffed and turned his attention to tucking his shirt back into his pants before setting his belt right.
“Tell me the truth. If Hook gets hurt badly enough, can he actually die?”
“I don’t believe so. It is possiblesomethingcan kill him, but he hasn’t found anything yet that will get the job done.”
I’d asked for the truth, but if William realized what he’d just confessed to me, he didn’t show it. Maybe I misunderstood. To me, it sounded like Hook had been trying to find a way to die. As in actively seeking out his own demise.
I wanted to ask about that, but was it really any of my business? I couldn’t imagine being immortal. There was a cycle to life, a give and take. Dying was part of it. I was cool with that.
Hell, back in high school, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t live to see twenty-five. When that landmark came and went with me still breathing, I swore I’d never be afraid of death. Obviously, there was some fear involved, what with the potential for pain and all. I didn’t want to be burned alive or gut shot and left for dead, but that didn’t mean I had any reason to fear the inevitable.
But to have that taken away? To know I would never be able to end my own suffering even if I wanted to? That was a deeply depressing thought.
“I have to go, miss. Stay in here, no matter what happens.” He turned his back to me without another word, flipping his cutlass in his hand as he headed for the door. The man might have been a first mate in title, but he sure moved like a warrior.
“What if she doesn’t show? How can you all be so sure of what she’ll do?”
He looked back over his shoulder. “Not to worry, we will get your brother back to you, one way or another.” With that, he slipped out the door and pulled it shut behind him.
47
NEVER
Roars of anger and hair-raising battle cries swelled in the room for the half-second the door was open, but no one tried to shove through. The battle was raging and as far as the lost boys knew, there was no risk of me charging out to lend a hand.
I was supposed to be a captive. I had to stop forgetting that. It didn’t matter that my skin was crawling just sitting in there. And it definitely didn’t matter that there was a deep, growing need trying to pull me from the room, a tug in my chest that demanded I grab my dagger and defend… what? The ship?
I crept forward and pulled the door open a crack in time to see two of Hook’s men wrestle one of the frat boys over the railing. His scream as he plummeted to the sea made my stomach roil, but I stayed where I was, like a good little captive. From the look of things, the pirates were holding their own just fine without my help.
Goody for them.
Of course, that was before the entire deck shook violently and Petra appeared in the middle of the fight with Leo by her side. He was holding my lanky, six-foot-tall brother in his arms like a fainting damsel. Matty was either dead or out cold, because he didn’t move a muscle.
“Stop!” Petra’s voice was commanding, and every head on the deck swiveled her direction, including Hook’s. “I’m here for the girl. Hand her over and we’ll be on our way.”
Hook stayed as he was, mid-strike but with his gaze on the demon who looked like a diva. “No. She’s my prisoner to deal with as I see fit.”
She raised a hand, and Leo stepped forward. One long, very sharp claw extended out from her index finger, and she threaded her other hand through Matty’s hair lovingly, then yanked his head back, pressing that deadly talon to his throat.
Hook lowered his sword a touch and stepped away from the man he’d been battling. “It makes no difference to me what you do with the boy. If he was foolish enough to summon you, then he is responsible for his own fate. But the girl is mine and she stays on the ship.”
The claim sent a strange shiver through me, a mixture of anticipation and something more primitive. Petra plumped her lips like she was about to blow him a kiss, then she smiled.
“In that case.” She drew her talon a short way down his throat and blood welled around the fresh wound.
It was a test. Everyone on the ship knew it. My skin was on fire with the need to intervene, to shove her away from my brother and gut her where she stood, but I didn’t. Miracle of miracles, I held. Barely.
No one else on the deck moved. Even Hook, whose expression was as bland as I’d ever seen it. Either he was very good at masking his emotions, or he really didn’t care what happened to my brother. And why should he? It wasn’t like he’d met Matty or got to know him. My brother was just a kid to him, another damned Darling who was crazy enough, or foolish enough, to summon a demon like Petra.
I still struggled with that. Matty wasn’t the type to go digging through old books looking for spells, and I couldn’t recall a single time he’d shown more than a passing interest in our lineage.
The demon studied Hook for a long moment. Whatever she saw in his orange eyes made her nostrils flare. She reached for my brother’s shirt and tore it down the center, revealing his chest. All five fingers on her right hand extended out into those shiny black claws and in the space of a blink, she sank them all at least an inch into my brother’s chest, sending rivulets of blood rolling down his pasty skin.
I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream before the anger took over. It was like a switch flipped and logic left the building. Big sister bitch mode, activated. I shoved through the door and marched straight toward her, ignoring Hook’s angry hiss.
