Tink looked around James to see Lily clinging to Smee. No, they couldn’t stay there, but the bridge… She glanced back at the rotting conundrum.
“I’ll go first,” James said.
“No!” Tink latched on to his hand.
“We’ve got to do something.”
But that bridge…there’s no way they’d all make it.
“Let me go,” Anne said. “I’m lighter than you.”
Tink swallowed. But she was still human, taller and heavier than a pixie. There were two people lighter than Anne, but Tink could never risk Lily, not again. “I’ll do it. I’m the lightest.”
“No.” Now it was James’s turn to step in front of her. “Captain’s orders. It’ll be me, or we turn back right now.”
Rain soaked through her clothes. Her wings and hair were already drenched. Even her boots squished.
“We could make a new bridge,” someone offered.
But that would take time they didn’t have. Blackbeard might already be hunting the Isles for them.
James clapped Smee on the shoulder. “If the worst happens…”
“Aye, Captain.”
Tink swallowed. “James—”
Heads turned toward her.Shit. “Er, Captain…” She looked away, her boots sliding in the mud.
The rain stopped stinging her skin. James loomed over her, his face unreadable. Then all at once, she was in his arms, his lips pressed against hers. Stubble scraped her chin, her boots slipped in the muck, but it didn’t matter. His kiss was all-consuming, passionate, a promise, and a…
Her chest clenched as he pulled away. Tink stumbled, barely keeping her balance as James turned and ran onto the bridge.
Chapter 27
Hook
“No!”
“James!”
“Shit!”
“Captain!”
The chorus of voices chased him. His boots slipped on the wet, rotting wood.Bloody hell, what a terrible idea.Wind howled through the gorge below, sending the bridge, and him, swaying and wobbling.
One glance over his shoulder nearly shattered his resolve. Tink stood at the end of the bridge. Smee had one arm on her shoulder, probably the only thing keeping her from running after him. Her cracked, pleading voice almost had him turning back. Almost.
But they had to finish this. The storms wouldn’t stop until they did, and the damn things would ruin him—all of them—if they kept up.
Hook clutched the frayed rope of the low railing. It wouldn’t hold if he stumbled and fell into it. Splintered boards creaked under foot.
The next two boards were already missing, challenging him to stretch across. Wind whistled. His friends had gone deathly silent behind him.
Just a few more planks.
A sharp crack split the air. The rope in his hand went slack.
