Hook: Exiles of the Realm Read online

  Her abuela reached over the table and patted her hand.

  “Go, and don’t worry about me for a few days,” her grandmother had said. “You deserve a little fun.”

  If only.

  Hot tears pricked the corners of Mercy’s eyes. Through every crazy thing that had happened over the last twenty-four hours, she’d managed to keep herself together, but a few simple words from her grandmother, and, suddenly a thousand cracks feathered out in her emotional resolve.

  This might be the last time she would ever see her grandmother. Like a cold dagger, the realization stabbed straight into her heart.

  Mercy stood up and hugged her grandmother tighter than ever before.

  “Te quiero,” Mercy whispered.

  “Te quiero más.”

  Then Mercy left before her tears could fall in earnest. She took the stairs two at a time, rushing toward the street. She didn’t look back, and she didn’t dare slow down, scared that if she did she’d never leave.

  James was right behind her as she pushed open the security door and stepped onto the sidewalk. He didn’t say a word as she wiped at her eyes and struggled to calm her breathing. Instead, he wrapped a strong hand over her shoulder.

  The gesture of support was the last straw. Mercy shattered. She practically threw herself against his chest. James wrapped his arms around her without question. He didn’t try to silence her as she started to sob. He just held her tighter.

  After a full minute, the worst of the tears were over. She sucked in a few breaths, and calmed down enough to lift her head and look him in the eye.

  “She has about four doctor appointments a month,” she said. “At least two with her primary physician, then usually another couple with various specialists—the cardiologist, the podiatrist, the eye doctor.”

  “Hush, sweetheart,” he said, smoothing a hand over her hair.

  “Then there are all the trips to the pharmacy.” She stepped back, but he wouldn’t let her go completely. His hands still stayed around her shoulders, gripping her tight. “She can’t drive anymore, and she hates taking the bus alone after dark.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

  “In case you’re still interested in making amends,” she said. “If something happens to me then she’s going to need someone to look after her.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you.” His voice was firm. Maybe a part of him hoped he could change reality through sheer will alone.

  “We both know that’s not true,” she said. “All I want is a promise that if I die, you’ll arrange for someone to take care of her.”

  “Sweetheart.” His voice became unbearably soft even as his grip tightened.

  “Promise me,” she demanded. “And, no matter what happens, I’ll consider us even.”

  James stared down at her for a long time. The line of his jaw tightened, but eventually he nodded. “You have my word.”

  “And don’t think I won’t hold you to it,” she said, poking her finger against the hard plane of his chest.

  His lips quirked, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And just how do you plan on doing that if you’re dead?”

  “Easy,” Mercy said, feeling some of the tension seep out of her chest. It was a little easier to breathe as she headed toward the street. “I’ll haunt you. Trust me, I’d make a terrifying ghost.” She shot him a questioning look. “You do have ghosts where you’re from, don’t you?”

  “You have no idea,” he said with a genuine laugh.

  James wrapped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side as they headed toward the car waiting to drive them to Lands End…and everything that awaited them there.

  “And I’m certain you’d make the most terrifying wraith my world has ever seen,” he said. “That’s why I’m going to do everything to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  Mercy didn’t say another word as she walked away from her grandmother’s building. She stayed silent as the driver maneuvered the car through the winding streets, her gaze directed out the window. The lines around her eyes and mouth tensed and relaxed with the passing blocks.

  James would do anything to know what was going on inside her head.

  Except ask.

  He was still blindsided by their last conversation. That morning he’d offered her all the riches her world could offer, but she hadn’t wanted them. All she’d wanted was the assurance that her grandmother wouldn’t have to ride the bus alone after dark.

  James didn’t understand.

  More importantly, he wished he hadn’t agreed.

  Not because he was a heartless bastard—though he supposed a case could be made—but because the moment he’d said yes, a transformation came over her. Her back had straightened, her shoulders pulled back. A new resolve shone in her eyes. She’d donned his agreement like a suit of armor.

  Now she was ready to face the possibility of death.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he said the moment he spotted the tops of the swaying cypress trees that marked the entrance to Lands End.

  Mercy didn’t look away from the window. “Of course, I do. We all agreed there was no other way.”

  Except there was. Not that he could tell her. Somehow James doubted the same woman who’d risked her neck to save his worthless life would agree to a plan that sacrificed the lives of four others.

  “No one would blame you for taking a little time to think about what you’ve agreed to,” he tried as the car pulled into the parking lot.

  “No,” she said, her voice starting to shake. She didn’t wait for the car to stop all the way before she threw open her door and stepped onto the black pavement. “We have to do this now. Before Flint and his fairies have a chance to regroup. Time isn’t on our side.”

  She started for the trailhead without looking back. She walked fast, her hands balled into fists. James had seen the look before. She was trying to seem determined, but in reality she was scared as hell.

  And the strange thing was, so was he.

  Chapter Twelve

  James was right behind her.

  She didn’t turn around. She didn’t have to. She could tell by the cadence of his steps.

  When the hell had that happened? She’d never known a man so intimately that she could pick him out by the sound of his stride. But she did now.

  Everything James did planted in her head. She’d memorized the sound of his voice. The feel of his touch. The sensation that crackled in the air when he stood behind her—so close, but not quite touching. She recognized him on a primal level she only partially understood.

  Even now, she fought the urge to spin around and run back into his arms. She bit her lip and resisted the desire to feel his arms wrap around her and hold her tight. Maybe he would push back her hair again. Maybe he’d tell her with that soothing voice that everything was going to be all right. That he could protect her. That he could keep her safe.

  But lies wouldn’t do her any good. In this fight there would be no easy outs.

  The only chance she had—that any of them had—was to keep going. To keep fighting the good fight. To keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  So that’s what Mercy did. She listened to the crunch of leaves and pebbles under her shoes as she moved down the mile-long dirt path. She strode past the overgrowth of sage and blackberry bushes without looking at the beautiful ridges they clung to. She kept her focus just a few feet ahead as she willed herself down the lonely trail.

  The sun dipped toward the horizon as Mercy ducked under a tangled archway of branches marking the end of the path. Growing up in the city, she’d hiked in Lands End before, but never this far. A giant boulder sat just beyond the trees, and she shimmied around the right-hand side before stopping cold.

  The labyrinth was on a small plateau atop a stark, barren cliff overlooking the ocean. Sheer rock walls on either side dropped straight down to the brutal waves below. The labyrinth wasn’t overly large, but it was undenia
bly impressive. Curving lines of stones twisted in a complex swirl toward the center. Four men waited for her along the outside edge.

  A moment later, James’ languid footsteps stopped behind her.

  “Mercy.” James’ soft voice washed over her neck. “You don’t have to do this.”

  She resisted the urge to lean into the comfort he offered.

  “Yes, I do,” she said. She forced herself forward. Fear was catching up with her. She could feel it close behind. She needed to do this before it swallowed her whole.

  Her courage didn’t rise much when the other four exiles scowled at her from the edge of the stone circle. Only Fenrir’s turned to a smile at the sight of her.

  “Mercedes,” he said. “We were just discussing whether you would come.”

  “I told you I would,” she said.

  “People say a lot of things,” Bron said, eying her skeptically.

  She shot a glare right back—at this point what did she have to lose. “I bet you don’t get invited to a lot of parties, do you?”

  Fenrir laughed, then looked around. “You didn’t bring your friend.”

  “Emily?” Mercy asked. “Let’s get one thing clear. She can’t be involved in this.”

  “She already is.”

  Mercy’s gaze snapped to Shay Madrid. Jet-black hair hung down his cheeks, obscuring his face. Unfortunately, Mercy didn’t have to actually see his eyes for his gaze to give her the shivers.

  “Well, not anymore. I refuse to let what happened to me happen to her.” She turned toward Geoffrey before anyone else could argue. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “It should be simple,” he said, leading her toward the center of the labyrinth. James stayed right by her side, while the others lingered along the outside ring. “The shielding spell I cast protects you from outside interference, but not direct communication. All you need to do is quiet your mind. Then, when you’re calm, focus on Hades.”

  “That’s it?” Mercy asked with a strained laugh. “Just think about the Greek god of the Underworld?”

  “Exactly,” Geoffrey said, helping her sit on the rocky ground. “Trust the wyvern magic to do its job.”

  Right. Trust the same magic that was trying to kill her. Sure. No problem.

  Mercy crossed her legs and pulled her knees close to her body. Now, she needed to relax and quiet her mind. Easier said than done. How was she supposed to find a Zen moment when at any second she might burst into flames?

  She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. That didn’t work. Thoughts pinged around her head at lightning speed. Fear and anxiety made her limbs tremble, her hands sweat. This wasn’t going to work. How could it? No way could she focus in this situation. It was too much to ask.

  “Nothing’s happening,” she said.

  “It will,” Geoffrey said from a distance.

  Mercy opened her eyes. The magician had retreated to the edge of the ring with the rest of the exiles. It seemed everyone wanted to be prepared in case she went up like a Roman candle.

  Everyone except James. He stood by her side.

  “You should probably get behind the blast zone too,” she told him.

  “Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head. “I promised I’d stay, and I always keep my word.”

  “Really?” She arched a brow.

  He shot her a wink, and her heart sped a little faster. “I do when it comes to you.”

  Mercy smiled. There was no way to guard herself against his charm completely.

  “Then, have a seat,” she said, motioning to the small strip of bare ground beside her. “I can’t concentrate with you looming over me. Only, promise that you’ll hightail it out of here if I start to smoke.”

  “The hell I will,” he said as he lowered to the ground. He tucked right up against her and slid his hand over hers. “Just breathe. I’m right here. If I see anything go wrong, I’ll pull you out of the circle before you can even break a sweat.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” she said.

  “Sweetheart, you should know by now that I do all sorts of things I’m not supposed to.”

  Mercy let out a little laugh. Her shoulders softened as a little tension seeped from her body. She raised her gaze and looked out over the ocean. The setting sun kissed the tops of the ocean waves setting them ablaze with golden light. Streaks of pink and orange painted the evening sky. The water crashed rhythmically against the shore. It was a beautiful scene. A gorgeous sunset. The kind a person could easily lose themselves in.

  Mercy let out a long, slow breath.

  Then another.

  She closed her eyes.

  Hades.

  The thought floated weightless through her head.

  Hades.

  This time the thought went deeper, vibrating as it moved through her.

  One more time.

  Hades.

  This time it plunged down, seemingly taking the ground beneath her as it went. Mercy’s eyes flew open at the sudden sensation, but everything she could see was the same as a second ago. The ground was still there. So was the sky, the waves, and the rocks.

  But a piece of her wasn’t. A part inside her head was somewhere very far away. Foreign. A place she couldn’t see, only feel. Someplace dark and unforgiving. Shivers ran through her limbs. Her instincts told her to run, but she couldn’t. There was no place to run from. Whatever was going on wasn’t happening in the outside world. It was happening inside her.

  Dread—cold, thick and inescapable—welled in the center of Mercy’s chest. An overwhelming presence filled her head. The sentience pushed her to the edge of consciousness before the voice even sounded.

  Who are you?

  It wasn’t just a question. It was a demand. An order. For a moment, Mercy was too overcome to answer.

  Somehow, she found enough strength to suck in a breath.

  “M-my name is Mercedes Herrera.”

  And what are you, Mercedes Herrera, that you think you get away with invading my mind?

  All the way over, she’d managed to convince herself that talking to Hades would be just like talking to the other exiles. Unnerving, sure, but manageable.

  But she was wrong. So wrong.

  There was no light in the presence that spoke to her. None at all. No light. No warmth. Just a sense of overwhelming power that chilled her to the bone.

  She tightened her grip on James’ hand.

  “I’m not trying to get away with anything,” she rushed to say. “I’m just a messenger.”

  Who do you speak for?

  “Five exiles from the Realm.”

  Exiles? He paused. Then you are from the middle world. You’re mortal.

  “Very.”

  And why should I listen to messages from cowards who are too afraid to speak to me themselves?

  Mercy tried to shake her head, but even the small movement shot bolts of white-hot pain down her neck and spine. All right. She needed to stay as still as possible.

  “They’re not cowards,” she tried.

  Who are they? Tell me their names.

  “Hook,” she said. “Merlin, Douglas, Madrid, and Fenrir.”

  Merlin? Hades’ voice dripped with disdain. Madrid? I know those names. How did you come to call such treacherous creatures friends?

  “It’s a long story.”

  I have plenty of time.

  “But I don’t,” she said. “This conversation is literally killing me.”

  Then deliver your message and be done with it.

  Mercy let out a long breath. Finally.

  “They need your help.”

  Absolutely not.

  The connection between them wavered.

  “Wait,” Mercy shouted, taken aback. “You have to hear them out.”

  His presence rushed back, stronger than before. Strong enough to knock her back. James wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her.

  No, I don’t. Creatures of the Realm are liars and savages. Merlin a
nd Madrid are among the worst. Their trickery is the reason my world is locked in perpetual solitude. I will never again listen to a word those foul beasts have to say.

  “Fine,” she said, swallowing down past her desperation. “Then how about me? Like you said, I’m just a mortal woman from Earth. I’ve never done you wrong. Will you listen to me?”

  What message could be so important that you’d risk your fragile life to tell me?

  “I need your help,” she said. “If these men don’t break their curse and get back to the Realm, then the wyvern magic inside me will turn me into a chunk of charcoal.”

  I’m truly sorry for you, but, unfortunately, the men that you speak for have filled you with false hope. There is no way I can help you.

  “That’s not true. My friends think they can break the lock that binds your world.”

  They’re liars.

  “I believe them.”

  Then you are a fool, Mercedes Herrera.

  “No, I’m not.” Mercy pushed through the pain and shook her head. “Oberon banished them. They hate him as much as you do.”

  Impossible.

  Damn. She wasn’t getting anywhere. She obviously wasn’t going to be able to reason with this guy. She needed to try something else. Stop trying to appeal to his sense of honor and go straight for his desires.

  “They’re offering you a chance for revenge.”

  Another pause. Mercy held her breath.

  How do they know that I won’t enact my revenge on them instead?

  “They don’t,” she said. “But they’re willing to extend their trust.”

  Trust? Creatures of the Realm don’t know the meaning of the word. I would rather watch them drown in their own tears than help.

  “Fine,” Mercy said, her temper welling up inside her. She was getting really tired of assholes taking their frustrations out on her. “Go mope in a corner somewhere. But don’t you dare pretend that you’re not the real coward here.”