Hook: Exiles of the Realm Read online

  Pressure built inside her head, like a storm front ready to crash. It was all Mercy could do not to flinch.

  Watch your tongue.

  The force of his words hit her like a bolt of lightning. She flew back, but James held her tight.

  “That’s enough, Mercy.” James pulled her to her feet but she refused to take a step. She dug in her heels and held up her hand. She just needed a little more time. She hadn’t come all this way to give up now.

  “Or what?” she challenged Hades. “You’ll kill me? Get in line, buddy.”

  You don’t know the powers you’re toying with.

  “But I do know a spoiled brat when I meet one,” she said.

  “Stop, Mercy,” James said, his voice growing louder. “Antagonizing him is not a good idea.”

  “These guys are offering you a chance to break free, to finally get payback from the bastard who locked you away, and you won’t even listen to what they have to say. You won’t even consider it. Why?” she asked. “Because a couple thousand years ago you got your feelings hurt? Really, Hades? Because I have to tell you, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  The storm in her head intensified for another second, roiling and crashing against her skull. Mercy closed her eyes as her knees went weak. James continued to hold her up, but she feared at any second he might pull her away and undo all the work she’d done.

  A second later, the pain receded. Not much, but enough to let her think.

  No one has ever dared to speak to me like that.

  “Yeah, well maybe somebody should have.”

  Your friends don’t deserve your bravery, Mercedes.

  “There’s one thing you got right.”

  For your sake, I will consider their proposal. Return in three days’ time to hear my answer.

  Mercy nodded.

  In the blink of an eye, the thunderstorm inside her head vanished. The pressure eased. And her legs gave out completely.

  James swept her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest. He rushed out of the stone circle and away from the cliff. He laid her down against the base of the giant boulder. His blue eyes brimmed with concern as the other exiles rushed to her side.

  “Well?” Bron demanded.

  “Give her a minute,” James growled.

  Mercy struggled to sit up. Her arms felt like noodles, and her head ached so hard it hurt to blink, but she managed to get halfway up. It wasn’t too bad…especially after James wrapped his arm around the small of her back and supported her weight.

  “Well, I’m still breathing, so that’s a win,” she said.

  “Did Hades accept the proposal?” Shay asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?” Geoffrey asked.

  “Well, I don’t know what you guys did to him, but he really doesn’t like a couple of you,” she said, giving Geoffrey and Shay a pointed look. “But I was able to convince him to at least think about your plan.”

  “Think about it?” Bron said. “What good does that do?”

  “It’s a hell of a lot better than the first answer he gave,” she said with a spent laugh. “I have to come back in three days.”

  “No. Absolutely not,” James said, his voice sounding every bit as authoritative as Hades’. “You can’t try that again. You were in too much pain. I could hardly keep you upright. Next time will be worse. Next time you might…”

  Mercy shook her head as his voice trailed off. She didn’t want to hear him say the word either. But silence wouldn’t change the reality of the situation. “I don’t see how we have a choice.”

  “She’s right,” Bron said.

  James turned toward him. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one risking your life.”

  Bron straightened up. His mouth became a flat, hard line. “I’ve stared death in the face many more times than you, thief.”

  “You want to face it once more?” James’ voice dripped with deadly promise.

  After seeing the lethal grace he’d shown fighting off their attackers last night, Mercy didn’t think he was making an empty threat.

  “Fighting won’t change anything,” she said, the last of her energy waning. She didn’t have any extra to waste on arguing. Besides, this was her decision to make, not anyone else’s. “If any of you can find another way in the next three days, I’ll take it. But if not, then I’m coming back. Got it?”

  The rest of the exiles nodded in agreement. But not James. His jaw tightened. He didn’t nod. He didn’t say a word. Not even a trace of a smile showed on his face as he slipped his arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, as he pulled her in close to his chest.

  “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.” Even his voice sounded strange—totally void of swagger. “I’m taking you home.”

  Home. Her thoughts instantly flashed to his modern, luxury apartment, instead of the simple one she shared with her grandmother.

  “I can walk,” she said, not entirely certain that was the truth.

  “No, you can’t,” he said flatly. He kept his gaze on the narrow path as he moved around the boulder and through the trees.

  “Still, I should probably try,” she said, even as she rested her head against his shoulder. His strength was undeniably appealing and so was the illusion of safety. “You can’t carry me the whole way back to the car.”

  He glanced down at her. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s over a mile away, and I’m a grown woman.”

  The corners of his lips twisted up just a touch. “You think you’re too heavy for me? Sweetheart, I would gladly carry you through every street in this city if you needed me.”

  Mercy’s cheeks burned. A blush? Really? Somehow after everything she’d been through, she would have thought that she’d been beyond turning red at his obvious flattery. Apparently not.

  “You can stop trying to flirt with me now, you know,” she said.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” That familiar sparkle crept back into his blue eyes. “I’m not flirting. I’m just telling you the truth.”

  “What are you doing?” Geoffrey asked the moment James slipped Mercy’s sleeping body into the back seat of his car.

  He watched her nuzzle her cheek against the headrest, shifting into a comfortable position. Already his arms felt empty, his chest cold. Every part of him wanted to slide in next to her, to pull her close and feel the soft sensation of her breath floating over his skin.

  Instead he closed the door and turned to face the magician.

  “I thought it was obvious,” he said. “I’m taking Mercy to bed, so she can sleep off the effects of the magic that’s slowly killing her.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “Then say what you mean,” James said, letting out a long breath. “Mercy isn’t the only one that’s exhausted.”

  Geoffrey narrowed his gaze, his gray eyes swirling. For a moment, James feared the man could really see down into his soul. “What do you have hidden up your sleeve, thief? What are you planning?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James tried to step away, but Geoffrey grasped his arm before he could get around him. The hold wasn’t strong. James could’ve broken away. Hell, he could’ve broken all of Geoffrey’s fingers in the process if he wanted to. But that didn’t seem like the wisest move.

  “I think you do,” Geoffrey said. “You didn’t fight her decision. You didn’t fight us. You would never give up so easily…not unless you’ve already moved on to another plan.”

  “A week ago, I was a stranger to you,” James said, forcing himself to smile. Even the simple gesture felt stiff and cold. “And now you claim to know everything about me?”

  “I’ve been watching you, James,” Geoffrey said. “And I don’t have to tell you that my sight is very clear.”

  “I know that’s what you’d like us to think,” James said, his gaze traveling down his arm to Geoffrey’s hand.


  The magician took the hint. His jawline tightened, but he let his hand drop.

  “Your slick talk doesn’t impress me, thief,” he said. “I know your only concern is for yourself.”

  “And yours isn’t?” James asked, arching a brow. “I know your history, Geoffrey. We all do. Don’t pretend that your heart is somehow purer than ours.”

  “I never claimed it was,” he said. “But despite all my sins, I’ve never willingly betrayed the people who trusted me.”

  “And neither have I,” James said.

  Not yet, anyway.

  “Then tell me,” Geoffrey said, his gaze sharpening. “Why did you bring us together?”

  “Together?” James ground the word out between clenched teeth. “I may have succeeded in flying you all to the same city, but we’re far from together. You want to see something with that crystal clear sight of yours, take a look at all the exiles. They’re at each other’s throats.”

  “That’s because they hate each other,” Geoffrey said simply. “With good reason. But they keep showing up. They’re doing their best to tolerate one another. All because they believe in this ridiculous plan of yours. They’re willing to put their pasts behind them, and put their trust in you.”

  “Then they were fools. And so was I.” James let out a sharp breath as he glanced back at the car. “I underestimated the risks.”

  “You mean the girl?”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Geoffrey scoffed.

  “I’d think twice before calling me a liar,” James threatened.

  “Oh, I don’t think you’re lying to me.” Geoffrey met James’ gaze without flinching. “You’re lying to yourself, Hook. You don’t care about that girl. Not really. If you did, you’d be fighting to be with her, instead of running away. She’s nothing more than a convenient excuse to get what you really want.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “To go back to being the selfish criminal who refuses to be responsible for anyone but himself.”

  James narrowed his eyes. His lips pressed together. His back teeth gnashed at Geoffrey’s words. But his show of temper didn’t do any good.

  The magician didn’t stick around. The second he finished saying his piece, Geoffrey turned on his heel and walked toward the rest of the exiles, leaving James alone with his anger.

  James strode over to the other passenger door. He slammed the door shut and told the driver to go when his ass hit the seat. For six blocks, he stared out the window, stewing in Geoffrey’s words.

  There was no way the magician was able to see James’ true intentions. Not here. Not without the help of powerful relics. The man was guessing. Nothing more. And he sure as hell couldn’t see his true feelings for Mercy.

  How could he when even James didn’t know what they were?

  All he knew was his sole desire was that no harm ever came to her. How could that be selfish?

  “Are you okay?” a small voice asked.

  Mercy shifted toward him. He cupped his palm over the curve of her leg, stopping her.

  “You should be asleep.”

  “I’ll sleep when we get back to your place,” she said. “But right now I can tell you’re upset.”

  “It’s nothing.” He rubbed small, soothing circles against her thigh with his fingertips.

  “Liar,” she said with a laugh. “Was it something Geoffrey said?”

  “You heard that?”

  “The words were fuzzy, but the tone was loud and clear.”

  He scooted closer…close enough for Mercy to rest her head against his shoulder. Her hair brushed against his neck and fell down his chest. The scent of sea spray and her floral soap rose. She was too tempting a pillow to ignore. He leaned his temple against her crown and sunk into the softness of her dark curls.

  Mercy let out a content-sounding sigh. “Were you arguing about me? Was he disappointed that I didn’t get farther with Hades?”

  “No, sweetheart,” James said. “You did great. Geoffrey and I just don’t get along.”

  “Why’s that?” she asked.

  “Because we’re both so sure that we know what the other is thinking.”

  “And do you?”

  James let out a sigh. He closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her soft, warm body curled up against his.

  “I sincerely hope not.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mercy woke the next morning feeling almost as tired as the moment James had laid her down on his mattress. Her limbs were sore and worn, like she’d gone for a long run the day before, and a dull ache throbbed in her head.

  Still, she managed to kick back the sheets when the morning alarm on her phone began to chime. She slid her bare feet onto the cool hardwood floors and forced herself to stand up. The room tilted, but after a few deep breaths she found her bearings and slowly made her way to the bedroom door.

  James wasn’t asleep on the couch when she entered the living room. He was wide awake in the kitchen, his back to her as he worked at the stove. Unfortunately, that meant he had a shirt on. But, at least this morning wasn’t going to be a complete disappointment. The scent of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, as did something savory and delicious.

  She tiptoed deeper into the room. She made it about five steps before James flipped the towel over his shoulder.

  “Your mug is on the counter,” he said without turning around. “Two sugars and a splash of milk.”

  Mercy stilled. “How do you know how I take it?”

  “I watched you that afternoon in Stella’s,” he reminded her.

  “And you remembered?”

  “Of course,” he said, casually stirring the contents in the pan on the burner.

  Mercy walked over and picked the mug up off the center island. She gave the contents a sniff, then a taste. Perfection.

  “You have a good memory,” she said, climbing onto the high stool.

  “It’s more skill than talent,” he said, pulling plates from the cupboard above his head. “One that’s come in handy countless times. I could teach you some tricks.”

  “I don’t doubt you could,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. The warm drink didn’t do anything for the soreness in her arms and legs, but it helped to clear some of the fog from her head. “But I’ll pass.”

  “Intimidated by the teacher?” he teased.

  “Not hardly,” she shot back. “Just skeptical of his intentions. I can’t imagine you honed your memory for anything good.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, scooping a serving of what looked—and smelled—like a mouthwatering sausage scramble onto a plate. “Most of my results were nothing short of spectacular.”

  “Spectacularly illegal, you mean.”

  “That goes without saying,” he said. “An ordinary man doesn’t become known as the greatest thief in the entire Realm by playing by the rules.”

  He slid the full plate in front of her.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” she said.

  “Sure, I did,” he said. “You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. You have to be ravenous.”

  She was. Her stomach rumbled as she looked at the plate. With all the other aches and pains she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she saw the heap of eggs, meat, and cheese.

  “Well, thank you,” she said.

  “The pleasure is mine.” He pushed a fork her way.

  Mercy closed her eyes, savoring the first bite. She quickly took another. Then another. Mercy shoveled in two more bites. James, with his hip cocked against the side of the counter, glued his gaze to hers. Suddenly, she was rocked by a wave of self-consciousness at her lack of manners.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled through a full mouth.

  “Please don’t apologize,” he said. “I’m glad to see you so satisfied.”

  He lingered over that last word, drawing it out, and Mercy couldn’t help but blush. That didn’t mean she had to take his bait. She was e
ating like a pig. Like he said, she was starving. Besides, who would’ve guessed that a pickpocket knew how to cook so well?

  Except James Hook was no simple pickpocket.

  “So, tell me why you became a thief,” she said, slowing her bites.

  “Because all the apprenticeships for shoemakers were taken,” he joked with his usual alluring smile.

  “No, really.” Mercy lifted her chin. “I want to know.”

  He paused, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the marble countertop. His eyes never left hers, and the charming sparkle faded, replaced by a warm glow that was far more open and honest.

  “The world I come from is very different than yours, Mercy,” he said. “It’s inhabited by dozens of creatures, almost all are innately magical. Except one. Man.”

  “Which is what you are.”

  “Which is what we are,” he said. “I grew up in a world where people like us were expected to work for others, to live on the sidelines, to scrounge for scraps of magic. Even when I was small, I knew that wasn’t the life for me, so I decided to make my own way.”

  “By becoming a thief?”

  “Not a thief, the thief,” he said. “I left home and learned from the best. I took the methods they taught me and improved them. I didn’t stop until I was the best.”

  Mercy’s brows pulled together. “And you never once cared that the things you took weren’t your own? That you were hurting other people?”

  His gaze and tone sharpened. “The people I stole from weren’t blameless creatures, Mercy. They weren’t poor farmers, struggling to get by. The people I took from were corrupt, greedy, merciless—every last one of them.”

  Mercy put down her fork. “And how were you different?”

  “In every way.” James tilted his chin. “Here you have the story of Robin Hood. My life has been far closer to that tale than the one you’ve cast me in.”

  Mercy laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  “It’s true.”

  “My ass,” she said. “Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Who did you give to?”

  “I was the poor.” The sparkle returned to his eye. “At least, in the beginning.”

  “You sound like Emily,” she said. “But that still doesn’t make you Robin Hood.”