Hook: Exiles of the Realm Page 11

  So how do we get the magic out of her?

  We don’t. It’s bound to her blood. And it will remain that way as long as she and the scales exist in the same world.

  You’re telling me that a mortal woman is now our only chance to contact the Underworld? All because the thief here couldn’t keep his pants zipped?

  They were real voices.

  That became obvious as the suffocating fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Everything became clearer. The sound of the voices. The thoughts in her head. Even the memories of what had happened.

  Especially those.

  Mercy’s heart hammered against her breastbone, but she did her best to keep her breath steady and even. She forced her hands to remain limp at her side. She wasn’t alone. James had company…and they were obviously talking about her.

  And God only knew what they had planned when she woke up.

  At least I’m working to get us out of this prison, hypocrite.—James’ voice.

  You’re doing a hell of a job.

  Mercy didn’t recognize that one. She cracked her eyelids just far enough to let a sliver of light through. Fortunately, that was all she needed.

  She was still on the couch. James was a few feet in front of her, standing toe to toe with a man with long blond hair—one of the men from that first day. Mercy couldn’t make out the man’s features without opening her eyes wider, but she recognized his intimidating bearing instantly. The same shiver ran down her spine.

  And if he was here…

  Mercy took care not to open her lids any further as she scanned the room. Two more blurry forms stood on opposite sides of the room. More of James’ friends, no doubt.

  James’ exceedingly dangerous friends.

  Great.

  “There’s no need to worry,” James said. “I’ll get Mercy to agree to help us.”

  “Agree?” the blond said. “You plan on giving the woman a choice?”

  “I plan on keeping her as far away from you as possible.”

  “You can try,” the blond said, menace hanging from every word. “But remember you were the one that promised us the wyvern scales. So, if that velvet tongue of yours doesn’t work on her, thief, then I say it’s time to deal with this my way.”

  James laughed. “You’d have to get through me first.”

  “I’ve singlehandedly brought down a basilisk, Hook” the man bragged. “You wouldn’t even slow me down.”

  “I don’t care what you did back in the Realm, hunter,” James said, physically shielding her from the other man. “You’ve never fought anything like me.”

  “All this posturing is pointless,” another voice broke in—this one a rich voice with a note of sadness. “No matter how we use Hook’s woman, we still have to deal with the fact that unstable wyvern magic is now inside a weak, mortal vessel.”

  James stepped away from the blond. “But the shielding spell you cast—”

  “Will only guard her from intruding voices, and only for a time,” the other man said. “Not even I can protect her from the full force of the power burning inside her.”

  An unsettled hush fell over the room. Mercy slowly breathed through her nose, hoping the steady flow of air would push away the anxiety rising inside her. The power burning inside her? What did he mean? And why had everyone stopped talking? What were they leaving unsaid?

  “How long does she have?” James finally asked.

  “There’s no way to be certain,” the sad voice said. “The magic’s fire will grow every time it’s used. She may be consumed the next time she unleashes the power. Or maybe after a dozen times. There’s no way to tell.”

  No one said a word as James started to pace. Mercy did her best to stay still as he glanced toward her a few times, dragging his fingers through his hair. Eventually, he stopped and let out a tortured sigh.

  “No,” he said. “I refuse to let that happen. We’ll find some other way,” he said.

  “What other way?” the blond asked. “You said the scales were our only hope of contacting Hades.”

  Hades?

  Mercy’s mind spun. She heard every word but her mind refused to process it all. First magic and fairies, now Greek gods. This had to be the worst date in the history of the world.

  “I said it was the only way I knew,” James said. “There has to be another.”

  “And if there isn’t?”

  “Then we create one,” James shouted. “Mercy isn’t some damned pawn. I won’t allow her to be roasted from the inside out.”

  Roasted from the inside out?

  Mercy hissed in a sharp breath. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help it.

  Damn it.

  She snapped her eyes closed and held her breath, praying that her little slip up had been drowned out by all the yelling. But today just wasn’t her lucky day. The room went dead quiet. A long second ticked by. And then another.

  Finally the tension was too much for Mercy to bear. She popped open her eyes and four male faces stared back at her.

  Crap.

  “H-Hey guys,” she said, trying to play it cool.

  It didn’t work. If anything, the daggers in their gazes only sharpened. All except James’. She saw nothing but concern.

  “How long have you been awake, sweetheart?” he asked.

  “Not long,” she lied.

  “She stirred the moment you three started bickering like children,” a deep, hypnotic voice said.

  Mercy’s gaze snapped to the tall, dark man tucked into the shadowy corner at the farthest edge of the room. The one who hadn’t said a single word until now.

  “And you didn’t tell us?” James said.

  “Why would I?” he asked. “If you cared, you would have paid more attention.”

  James’ lips pressed together tight. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he turned toward her. “How much did you hear?”

  “Everything.” Especially the part where I end up cooked like a Thanksgiving turkey.

  Mercy pushed up from the cushions on shaky arms as James sat down next to her. “Then I’m guessing you have a couple questions.”

  “More than a couple,” she admitted, upset that the quiver hadn’t completely left her voice.

  He cupped her hand in his, and waited for her to organize her thoughts. It didn’t take long. One question thrummed in her mind, far louder than the rest.

  “Magic is real?”

  “Very,” he answered.

  “And it’s dangerous?”

  “Some is, some isn’t.”

  Lucky her. Of course, she couldn’t get stuck with any fun Glinda the Good Witch magic. She had to get the kind that barbecued her insides. Mercy sucked in a steadying breath.

  “Why doesn’t everybody know about it?” she asked.

  “Because magic isn’t native to your world,” he answered. “The only traces of magic on Earth have slipped through from one of the two other worlds—the Realm, or the Underworld.”

  Mercy swallowed down past the fast-growing lump in her throat. The Realm? The Underworld? It was all too much.

  “So, those tall creatures that came out of the portal were…”

  “Fae soldiers,” James finished. “You would call them fairies.”

  “Those were fairies?” Mercy’s eyes went wide. “But they were almost seven feet tall. I thought fairies were supposed to be cute little flower-sized creatures.”

  A light chuckle echoed around the room.

  “Yeah, I don’t know which exile started that legend among your people,” James said. “But whoever it was had a wicked sense of humor.”

  Mercy didn’t join in their laughter. She narrowed her gaze as she took in James’ features with new eyes. “But if those were fairies, then…then what are you?”

  “Never fear, sweetheart.” His smile grew. “I’m a man—nothing more, nothing less.”

  Mercy glanced around the room. “So, you’re all just men?”

  “Not exactly,” the one with the sad voice
said. “Our world isn’t as simple as yours. James and Bron are what we in the Realm call men—creatures born without any innate magical abilities.”

  “Some of us don’t need outside help to get the job done,” the blond snarled.

  She did her best to ignore his caustic tone and keep her thoughts on track. “B-But the rest of you?”

  “I’m Geoffrey Merlin.”

  “You’re Merlin?” Mercy squawked. “The Merlin? You can’t be.”

  “Why not?” the man—no—the magician asked.

  “Because Merlin is a weak, old man with a long white beard,” she answered. “You look more like a fitness model.”

  Geoffrey smiled. “Only the roots of the legends come from our world. How you decided to interpret them was up to you.”

  Mercy’s brows pulled together as she turned toward James. “Is that why you don’t have a hook for a hand?”

  “Not everything is literal,” James said with a laugh. “You don’t expect everyone named Baker to sell cakes, do you?”

  Point taken.

  “And are you really a captain?”

  “I suppose.” James shrugged. “I did take over a ship once, but I didn’t stick with it long. Turns out, piracy is a whole lot of work for not much reward.”

  Mercy narrowed her gaze. “You mean you didn’t like splitting the haul with your crew?”

  “Exactly.”

  She turned toward the last guy—the quiet one in the corner. “How about you?”

  “My name is Shay Madrid,” he said.

  Mercy scanned her memory, but the name didn’t ring any bells. “And what are you?”

  “A jinn.”

  “That’s a genie, right?” she said. “So, you grant wishes?”

  A dark smile twisted his lips. “For a price.”

  A shiver ran up Mercy’s spine. The less said about that the better. She tried to pull her thoughts together.

  Except her mind refused to cooperate. Everything inside her head felt jumbled and shaken. She could have blamed the throbbing headache still pounding against her temples, but it was only a small sliver of her problems.

  The truth was, it was all too much to take in. Everything she’d seen. Everything she’d heard. Everything she was learning now. There was no way she could process it all at once.

  She needed a break. Needed to step away, just for a little while. To breathe some fresh air and walk around. Get her bearings back. Then she could deal with this.

  …Or run like hell.

  She could make that choice once she didn’t have four sets of magical eyes boring into her.

  Mercy rose from the couch, only wobbling a little before her knees locked.

  “Where are you going?” James asked.

  “Outside.” She didn’t wait for permission. She just started for the door and didn’t look back. “I need some space to clear my head. Just for a few minutes.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I want to be alone.”

  “That isn’t a good idea,” he said.

  But Mercy was already turning the handle on the front door. She threw it open, ready to slip out before he could catch up with her…but something blocked her way.

  Not something. Someone.

  A man large enough to fill up the whole doorframe. So huge Mercy could barely see past him to the hallway beyond. His fist was raised as though he’d been about to knock. She craned her head to look into his light brown eyes.

  Mercy’s mouth fell open. There was something about those eyes. Something that went beyond simply dangerous. Something feral.

  His lips curled back, exposing a row of white gleaming teeth.

  “You,” he growled. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Maybe she didn’t need that air after all.

  A thin squeak escaped Mercy’s throat as she swiveled on her heel. She rushed back into the heart of the room. Toward the only place her instincts told her was safe.

  Straight into James’ arms.

  Satisfaction rushed through James when Mercy slammed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her tight, even though he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She’d run to him for safety, security. And after all he’d done, that was the least he could give her.

  Hell, he’d do anything to spare her the pain of what she was going through…and what was going to happen next.

  James had never felt that way about anyone before. Sure, there was no denying he was the one responsible for Mercy’s situation, but he’d done worse to other people he liked. Sometimes he’d even felt a little twinge of regret, but nothing that came close to actual guilt.

  Still, simple guilt didn’t explain all the other feelings coursing through him as her soft body pressed flush against his.

  The truth was he wanted to protect her. On a primal level.

  Mercy pulled back just enough to stare up at him. “What the hell is he?”

  “A wolf.”

  Her whole body shivered. Her eyes grew even wider. “L-like a werewolf?”

  “Not exactly.” James shook his head, and tried not to smile at her disbelieving tone. Apparently, asking her to accept fairies was one thing, but werewolves was another. “Fenrir was born with the spirit of the wolf inside him. All his people were.”

  “You mean there’s more like him?” she asked, her expression growing more disturbed.

  “Many more,” the wolf answered with a laugh.

  “Don’t worry,” James said. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

  “All right,” Mercy said, closing her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders. Only then did she step away…but not too far. She looked around the room with a keen gaze. “So what are you all doing here?”

  “We were exiled by our king and queen,” James answered.

  “For what?”

  “Political reasons mostly,” Geoffrey answered. “The four of us each represented a unique threat to the power of the Fae Crown.”

  “The four of you?” Mercy said. Her brows pulled together as she shot James a questioning look. “But not you?”

  He gave a lazy shrug. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  One corner of Mercy’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, why don’t I believe that?”

  Because she knew him too well. Fortunately, she didn’t press him for more answers…at least, not personal ones.

  Instead, she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, as though she were trying to process everything they’d said.

  “Okay. I’m still lost,” she admitted. “What does all this have to do with the Greek god Hades?”

  “He’s one of the keys to breaking the curse that imprisons us on Earth,” Geoffrey answered. “We were going to use the wyvern scales to communicate with him in the Underworld. But now that the magic is in you—”

  “You were hoping that I’d do the communicating for you,” she finished for him.

  “Hoping isn’t the word I would use,” Bron said, his voice low.

  James edged in front of Mercy, ready to defend her against the hunter’s bullying, but this time, she didn’t need his help.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t, tough guy,” she said, straightening her spine. “James, would you like to remind your friend exactly what I did to the last people who threatened me?”

  Fenrir let out a bark of laughter loud enough to rattle the windows.

  “You’ve got spirit, woman,” he boomed. “I like you.”

  “My name is Mercedes,” she said through flat lips.

  “I can see why Hook chose you,” he went on. “Where can the rest of us find more like you?”

  Mercy’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to?”

  “The second part of the curse, of course,” Fenrir answered.

  Oh, no.

  “Maybe it would be better if we focused on Hades right now,” James tried.

  Mercy ignored him completely. “What second part?”

  “The
part where we need to find women to fall in love with us,” Fenrir answered plainly. He sat down in one of James’ chairs and stretched his brawny arms down the length of the rests.

  “Love?” Mercy’s voice shot up as her eyes snapped back to his. “So, this wasn’t about some stupid bet? You were trying to make me fall in love with you?”

  James bit into the inside of his cheek. There had to be a delicate way to explain this. So why couldn’t he find the words? They’d never abandoned him before.

  Unfortunately, the wolf didn’t have the same problem. “No, the wager was real enough,” he answered. “The thief swore that the women of your world fell in love easily, and he could make anyone do it. So the magician bet him that he couldn’t make you.”

  “Is that right?” Mercy asked, sliding back a step. Pure fury and something else—hurt, maybe—burned bright in her eyes. But at least this time, the heat of her anger didn’t push out through her words knocking them all over.

  Damn. Words alone weren’t going to be enough to smooth this over. This was going to take a whole lot of kisses, not to mention a few tricks only he knew how to do with his fingers, to make her forget all about her injured pride.

  Still, he supposed he needed to try something now.

  “Mercy, I—”

  “Later.” Mercy held up her hands, stopping him. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but your romantic troubles aren’t my biggest concern right now. All I really care about is getting this magic out of me before it kills me.”

  The room went quiet. Not even Fenrir said a word. Mercy glanced around nervously from face to face.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “You guys haven’t shut up since the moment I woke up. Don’t get quiet on me now.”

  “I’m sorry, Mercedes,” Geoffrey said, stepping closer.

  “But I heard you say that if the scales and I were separated then the connection between us would be broken.”

  “That’s true,” he said with a nod. “But there are only a few gateways between the worlds, and right now every last one of them is sealed up tight.”

  “What about the portal that Flint used to come here?” she asked.

  “Those are temporary spells spun by massive crews,” Geoffrey explained. “They take great energy to create, not to mention near limitless resources.”