“What’s in it?” I raise a brow as he places the seaweed bandage on the table and then holds out a grayish pill.
“Medicine.”
“Like what?” I’m not taking it, but it might come in handy later.
“Highly-diluted poppy essence with a few other medicinal vitamins.”
“That’s heroin. Thanks, but I’m not really interested in breaking bad right now.” Though I think that would apply more to meth.
He gives me a smile and shakes his head. “Not heroin or anywhere even close. It’s mild, but it will help with pain.” He’s still holding it out.
I’m not going over there. He could grab me. Of course, if he wanted to, he could drag me out of this corner. He’s tall, over six feet, and likely late twenties. Strong. Just like the other pirates on this ship.
“All right.” He puts it on the table, then goes to another hidden cupboard and pours me a fresh cup of water. “You can take it with this. In any case, get some rest. You look …”
“Sick? That’s what Cookson said.”
He grabs his bag and my plate from the table. “You look like you’ve been through a lot. Rest will help you and your body recover.” He backs toward the door. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”
I want to say ‘don’t bother’ but I don’t. After all, he’s been nothing but kind, even if he is trying to offer me heroin.
Smee opens the door for him, and Skylights backs out, a rueful look on his face that turns to shadow as he steps into the darkness beyond the captain’s quarters.
Once again, the door closes and locks, and I finally slump forward, my body aching and the bite throbbing. I hobble to the edge of the bed and sit down, my head swimming a bit.
I was right. The bed is comfortable.
“Fuck you, Hook.” I sound miserable. Probably because I am.
I keep thinking I’m going to hear a knock at the window and find Peter outside with his hand out, waiting for me to take it so he can fly me to safety. But that knock doesn’t come. I’m still on this ship being taken off to who knows where.
A yawn overtakes me. Then another.
Shifting back a little bit, I settle on the bed and pull the curtain back so I can keep a steady view of the door. I’ll sit here for a little while, then get back to investigating the room. Skylights had no problem finding compartments filled with all sorts of things. I just need to find the one with the knives or the guns.
As soon as my body stops aching—I glance at the pill on the table—no. I won’t take it. The seaweed seems harmless, if a little fishy smelling, but I can’t be bothered with it at the moment. Not when I’m trying to think through my escape.
Lying back, I rest my head on a pillow and turn on my side so I can watch the door. The blanket is warm around me, seeping through the chill of ocean water and fear.
I’ll stay right here and regain my strength.
Soon enough, Peter will arrive to rescue me, and I’ll need to be ready to fight when that happens. But I can’t fall asleep. I won’t. I have to stay awake with my attention on the door.
So that’s exactly what I do.
Easy.
ChapterFour
In the midst of them, the blackest and largest jewel in that dark setting, reclined James Hook …
Dreams aren’t frightening if you can’t remember them. They’re a fog, one that may be full of warmth and delight or possibly terror and delirium. Either way, ignorance is bliss, and that ignorance is what I’ve known for my entire life until I came to Neverland.
Now my dreams are soaked in black ooze and coated with soot until no sunlight can ever penetrate. Those are the sorts of dreams that haunt me. Ones with razor claws and dagger teeth.
That’s the dream I’m having when I wake.
I open my eyes and try to place where I am. The bed in the cave was never this warm, and I don’t hear any random snores from the Lost Boys. I blink when I hear a seagull laughing somewhere outside. That’s when I remember. I’m on the Jolly Roger, and I fell asleep in Hook’s bed.Shit! I have to get out of here.
