A few small figures waited near the rowboats on the beach. Hook nearly tripped. Children? Why the bloody hell would Blackbeard have children with him?
Not just any children. Hook’s eyes narrowed as they neared. He remembered that redhead, the one he’d bartered with at Tink’s treehouse. Hot fury raced under his skin.Little brat.And that short one near him, definitely the kid from the witch’s shop. He barely paid him any mind, but the scrappy kid hadn’t even changed his clothes.
Why work with this lot?
“You!” Tink shouted ahead of him. He could barely see her, just the slightest flash of blonde hair as she strained against the ropes that linked them all together.
“It’s that pixie!” the brawny boy exclaimed.
“Whyare you here? All of you?”
Good question, love.
“He pays good,” the redhead said.
“Peter, you idiot! He’s evil,” she screeched as one of Blackbeard’s men forced her into a boat. She squealed again, nearly spilling into the water.
The boy stood a little straighter. At least two had the decency to look away, and the smallest one tugged on Peter’s shirt.
The whole ride to the boat, Hook waited for a chance that didn’t come. Or maybe he missed it. He couldn’t take his eyes off Tink, who had been forced into the rowboat ahead of his—along with too many of the bastard’s crew. She vomited into the boat,earning groans and outcries. They deserved much worse than filth-splattered boots.
“Which one a’ these things doesn’ belong.” Blackbeard’s words poured over him like an icy fog.
Hook snapped his attention to the captain, who grinned smugly toward the boat carrying Tink.
He looked away, but the damage was done. Blackbeard knew too much.Bloody crocodile.“Where’s my crew?” Hook demanded as they rowed past theJolly Roger. It bobbed like a toy boat, its anchor pulled up and tow lines attached to it from theKraken. A few unfamiliar faces—Blackbeard’s crew, no doubt—leaned over the railing.
“Should worry ’bout yerself,Captain,” Blackbeard mocked.
A dark haze clouded Hook’s vision. His breaths came faster. He could tackle Blackbeard right now, wrap his bound wrists around his neck and drag him under. Blackbeard might be free, but Hook was stronger. Younger.
A strong gust of wind smacked him in the face. But the sea would take them both, and if it didn’t, Blackbeard’s crew would finish the job. He’d never see Tink again. Or Smee. Or anyone else he loved. It would be a last resort. If all else failed…
TheKrakenloomed as fierce as its namesake as their rowboats neared. Larger than theJolly Roger, but fast, with extra sails that were ready to be hoisted at a moment’s notice. The exquisite hull gleamed with strength—well-repaired after their battle days ago. Where they’d found the time, he could only guess. If he didn’t hate the man so much, he might have been impressed. The old croc even bothered with little flourishes—engravings around the portholes, a kraken masthead whose tentacles wrapped around the front railings—and he’d bet the interior was even finer.Fucking bastard. The whole thing mocked him. Though if it had belonged to anyone else, he might try to commandeer it. But the croc’s taint was something that couldnever be scrubbed clean. No, this ship belonged only one place: lost deep in the sea like its namesake no one had seen in decades.
Onboard theKraken, Hook spotted the rest of his crew—bruised and bound, but no worse than the rest of them.Thank all the gods.
“Set sail, mates. Tow tha dinghy.”
Dinghy?Hook scowled. TheJolly Rogerwas nodinghy.
“Sail?” one sailor balked.
Blackbeard snarled him into silence.
“The scale,” Lily whined.
“We’ll get ’er. But this. Ah, I’ve waited so long. This I plan ta savor. Little fish boy finally rounded up with his minnows.” Blackbeard’s boots thumped against the deck as he paced in front of him. “Ya should’a stayed on land, boy.”
“Tick tock, croc,” Hook mocked. “Your time is running out.”
He laughed. “We have all tha time in tha world.”
The sea was his friend, his love, his life. But today it failed him, letting theKrakentow his ship without a struggle. No storm came to blow them apart, not this time. Even the fog seemed to part for the croc and his crew, spitting them out into blue skies and gleaming seas.
A nearby spit of land, not worthy of a name, loomed just beyond the fog bank, a last rest before the Shrouded Isles.
Blackbeard blocked his view. The grinning bastard waited, still as a statue, until Hook finally met his eye. “Tha last rest of theJolly Roger. Couldn’t a picked a better spot if I tried,” he bellowed, pleased with himself. “Unless…”
