Hook: Exiles of the Realm Read online

  James’ mind whirled as he tried to come up with a plan for what to do next. He held Flint’s life in his hands. It would be so easy to let the blade slide and let the traitor bleed out on the dirt beneath his boots.

  An attractive plan, but it wouldn’t help Mercy. He was still a long way from the portal, and he wouldn’t make it far through this unit of fae soldiers armed only with a dagger.

  Apparently, Flint had the same realization. “You won’t kill me,” Flint said, his voice quivering slightly.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” James growled against his ear.

  “If you kill me, my soldiers will tear you to pieces.”

  “It would be worth it just to watch you die.”

  “Now, I know you’re bluffing,” Flint said with a bitter laugh. “I know you too well, old friend. You’ve never sacrificed anything in your life.”

  Flint was right. He had been a selfish bastard. But not anymore. Now he was fighting for Mercy. The love of his pitiful life. She was the only person that mattered.

  James pressed the blade deeper into Flint’s neck, far enough to cause a trickle of blood to drip down the side, staining his ridiculously ornate collar.

  “People change,” James said before shifting his focus to the fae guards around them. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Flint and I are going to start moving toward the portal, and you’re going to keep your distance. If you don’t, I’ll kill him.” James dug the blade even deeper and the trickle of blood turned to a stream. “Understood?”

  The circle of shimmering fae eyes stayed steady. They didn’t move an inch. James ground his back teeth together.

  “Don’t test me,” James called out even louder. “I will kill your captain.”

  “He’s not our captain,” the guard standing directly in front of James said.

  “What?” Flint said, seeming more surprised by the revelation than James was.

  “We take our orders from Oberon alone,” the fae said. “His orders were clear. James Hook must not survive.”

  “But—” Flint tried.

  The fae’s gaze snapped to Flint. “Not under any circumstances.”

  Flint began to tremble in James’ grasp as realization took hold. “No.”

  The circle advanced swiftly. Closing in on the pair before they had a chance to fight back.

  But James didn’t need to fight. He had experience on his side. Experience and timing. Skills he’d spent a lifetime honing. He kept his head up and his wits steady, waiting for the right moment.

  A second later, the barest prick of a steel blade pressed into his back. He instantly fell to his knees, letting the halberd sail overhead. The blade plunged straight into Flint’s torso, along with all the others.

  “No,” Flint wailed, his gurgled screams fading only when the long spears were yanked from his belly.

  James rolled to the side, springing to his feet the moment he was out of the circle. His boots struck hard against the ground. The opening of the portal was only a few feet away. At least, now he had a fighting chance to reach it before—

  Searing pain sliced across his back. James’ arms flew out at his side as he collapsed down to his knees. Pure agony pulsed through his veins, radiating out from the wound. His back teeth ground together as he turned toward the portal.

  He was so close. Only a few feet away. He could still make it. He had to.

  James dug his hands into the dirt in front of him, doing his best to push out the overwhelming pain surging through his body. He only managed to crawl another few inches before another spear tip plunged into the meat of his shoulder.

  James howled. His whole body seized up at the pure torture of the fae steel ripping out of his body.

  The physical pain was nothing. The true torture came from knowing he had failed. He’d promised to keep Mercy safe and he’d let her down. Now because of him, she was going to die.

  James rolled onto his back, and stared into the circle of fae soldiers. In his peripheral vision, Flint’s limp and bloodied body lay crumpled on the ground just a few feet away. The traitorous bastard had finally received his comeuppance.

  And now it was James’ turn.

  The soldiers raised the blades of their halberds, ready to stab him. James gritted his teeth and steadied his gaze. If this was his moment, he was determined to meet Death with his eyes wide open.

  “Stop!” A sharp bellow shook the air.

  The fae soldiers froze. Their heads snapped toward the sound.

  A sick sense of dread filled James’ gut as he followed their gazes. The feeling grew worse once his eyes landed on Mercy. At least, he assumed it was Mercy. The woman standing before them was barely recognizable.

  Her skin glowed like a firebrand against the dark sky. Bolts of electric yellow light shot over the surface of her body, crackling the air around her. Her hair pulsed and licked the side of her face like flames. Billows of gray smoke trailed out behind her like the wisps of a cape caught in the wind. Raw, heated power poured from her.

  Power that would eat her alive if she didn’t stop.

  “Mercy, no,” James called to her.

  She didn’t listen. Instead, she cast her terrible gaze over each of the guards before opening her mouth.

  “Get away from him!”

  The full force of the wyvern magic burst from her along with her words. Living flames arched above James’ head, but the soldiers weren’t so lucky. The searing wave of heat hit them square in the chest. They flew back, some singed, some badly burned. No matter their injuries, they wasted no time scrambling to their feet and heading for the portal.

  Facing Oberon’s wrath would be less terrifying than weathering another blast of wyvern fire. One by one they dragged their wounded bodies back through to the Realm.

  Just in time too.

  Mercy’s strength only lasted until the final fae stepped through. After he was gone, she collapsed to the ground, but the fire beneath her skin didn’t fade. If anything it grew brighter.

  James looked toward the gaping mouth of the portal. He only needed to drag his body a few more feet. Just a few, and he might still be able to save her.

  He tried to rise, but instantly failed. The gash on his back was too deep. His legs wouldn’t carry him. So, he turned over and tried to use his arms instead.

  The wound in his shoulder screamed in pain. Pure agony spread through every part of his body, but still he pressed on…for Mercy.

  But he wasn’t fast enough. He was moving in inches, and the smoke pouring from her writhing body was growing higher. Her high-pitched wail filled the air, and James’ heart shattered into a million pieces.

  Dammit. He wasn’t going to make it to the portal. But he wasn’t about to let Mercy die.

  No matter what.

  James bit his lip. He knew what he had to do.

  Pulling his hand back, he dug into his pocket. His fingers closed around the cold metal of the wyvern scale pin. He pulled his arm back high above his head and let the relic fly.

  The broach disappeared into the swirling vortex with a flash of white light.

  James’ body sagged against the blood-soaked ground as the portal closed. He’d thrown his old life away. He was stuck on Earth, and the chances were staggeringly low that he’d ever see the Realm again. But that didn’t matter.

  Mercy. She was his only concern. He wrenched his body around to face her.

  The fire had extinguished and her body had stopped smoking. The wind swept the last tendrils out to sea, and James could see her clearly. She was no longer burning bright. Her skin was smooth and clear. Her dark brown curls laid flat in a swirl around her head. She looked almost normal.

  Except she wasn’t moving. She was deadly still in the center of the labyrinth.

  “No,” James muttered. He crawled toward her, desperately clawing his way over the rocky soil and through the searing pain. He wasn’t alone. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Fenrir and Emily running their way.

 
“Oh my God, will you please tell me what just happened,” Emily’s voice carried over the top of the cliff.

  “Soon,” Fenrir answered. “First, we need to get our friends to what passes for healers on this world.”

  “Wait,” Emily shouted, her voice dripping in frustration. “You had a phone this whole time?”

  James ignored their arguing. He had to get to Mercy. He had to hold her. To feel her. To know he had succeeded in saving her.

  With one final scramble, he reached the center of the labyrinth. Ignoring the agony exploding across his back and down his legs, he dragged her into his lap. Her body was heavy and warm in his arms.

  Warm, not hot.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing the dirt and ash away from her beautiful face. “Open your eyes.”

  She didn’t move. James’ heart clenched deep within his chest. She had to be alive. After all that they’d been through, after all that they’d faced, she had to be.

  “Mercy.” He shook her slightly in his arms. “Sweetheart. I don’t know if I can go on without you.”

  Stinging tears had just begun to form in his eyes when he heard her hiss in a breath. And then another. Her eyelids fluttered. Then, slowly opened.

  James laughed in relief as she looked up at him with her bright brown eyes.

  She coughed, but this time there wasn’t a trace of soot or ash. Only a hoarse voice, tired from over use. It was the sweetest sound James had ever heard.

  “Did we win?” she asked.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Flint’s gone, and so is the wyvern magic.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “I threw it through the portal.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “You threw it? Instead of going through yourself?”

  James stared down at her in amazement. “You knew that was my original plan?”

  “I’ve come to know you pretty well.”

  “I guess you do.” He combed her hair back with his fingers and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

  Her gaze intensified. “So, why did you decide to stay?”

  James didn’t hesitate. “Because the Realm might be where I was born, but it’s no longer my home.”

  “Then where is home?” Mercy asked.

  “With the woman I love,” he answered with another kiss against her brow. “It’s wherever you are, sweetheart. Wherever we can be together.”

  “See, I was right.” A wide smile spread across Mercy’s face. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “I told you there was goodness in your heart.”

  “You’re the only good thing that lives in my heart, Mercy Herrera,” James said, holding her closer, silently promising that he’d never go. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Well, then it’s a good thing you decided to stay,” she answered. “Because I feel the same way about you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “So, you’re telling me it’s all real?”

  “Yep,” Mercy said, adjusting herself higher on the unforgiving slab of her hospital bed. She’d never had a more uncomfortable night than the one she’d spent on this thing. Of course, the bed wasn’t entirely at fault. All the monitors and IVs she was hooked up to shared some of the blame.

  At least, she didn’t have to stay much longer. The doctors had said she only needed one more day of observation for exhaustion before she could go home. That was the only diagnosis the staff had been willing to hazard after scratching their heads at her baffling test results.

  Mercy knew she should be thankful that they’d let it go so easily. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if they’d dug any deeper. She’d had a hard enough time bluffing her way through their questions as it was.

  Thankfully, she had a lot of visitors to keep her company through the countless pokes and prods. Her grandmother had come right away, bringing her flowers. James spent all night at her bedside after getting stitched up for what he’d said were hiking injuries. And then, of course, there was Emily, who was currently staring at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

  “All the fairy tales? The myths? The legends?” Emily asked. “They’re all real?”

  “Well,” Mercy answered with a shrug. “I don’t know about all of them. Apparently, Robin Hood isn’t.”

  Emily shook her head in disbelief. “But James really is…”

  “Captain Hook,” Mercy finished for her.

  “And that Geoffrey Merlin guy is really the Merlin?”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  Emily paused. Mercy could practically see the wheels spinning inside her friend’s head. God knew, she sympathized. She knew what it was like to have her world shaken to its core.

  “And…Fenrir?” Emily asked, her throat bobbing as she swallowed down. “Is he really the Norse god?”

  “I don’t know about a god,” Mercy said with a chuckle. The force of the laugh made her sore lungs twinge. “I’d say he’s more like the big, bad wolf.”

  “The big, bad wolf,” a booming voice sounded from the doorway. Both Mercy and Emily turned to see Fenrir filling up the wide space. James stood in front of him. The rest of the exiles were spread out in the hallway behind. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Well, that makes one of us,” Emily muttered.

  A smile broke out on Mercy’s face as the men stepped into the room. James came straight to her side with only a slight hitch in his step. The doctors had promised that the limp wouldn’t be permanent, that he’d be as good as new in no time. Mercy didn’t care though. She didn’t love him for his swagger.

  “Hook has been filling us in on the details of your conversation with Hades,” Geoffrey said, taking up a position at the foot of her bed. “It appears we owe you a debt of gratitude, Miss Herrera.”

  Mercy nodded. “You can pay me back by staying true to your word. I told Hades you weren’t the villains he thought you were. Don’t make a liar out of me.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Geoffrey promised.

  Another laugh slipped from Mercy’s lips. “No offense, but your best hasn’t really been impressive so far.”

  Bron’s blond hair swept back from his shoulders as he stepped forward. “What does that mean?”

  “Calm down,” James demanded to the hunter. “Mercy didn’t mean any insult. Did you, sweetheart?”

  Mercy shrugged. She certainly hadn’t meant it as a compliment.

  “Listen, I get it, guys,” she said. “I’ve seen what you are facing—up close and personal—and it’s scary stuff. But if you don’t all pull together and work as a team instead of a bunch of jaded loners, I’m pretty sure Oberon’s going to mop the floor with you.”

  Bron’s lips curled up in a sneer as he shot a glare over at Fenrir. “You really expect me to work side by side with this cur?”

  Fenrir let out a low growl in response.

  “Yeah, I do,” Mercy said, wondering how she had become their referee. “Because even though I turned those fairy soldiers into campfire s’mores yesterday, I don’t think they’re going to stay away long, and you’ll need to be ready when they come back.”

  “She’s right,” Geoffrey agreed. “Oberon will be upset at this defeat. He’s going to send his forces at us hard and fast.”

  “We’ll need to be ready for them,” Shay nodded.

  “And willing to help each other when they attack,” Fenrir said.

  “But none of that matters if we have no way out.” Bron shook his head. “The woman may have brokered a deal with Hades, but it’s useless without a way to unlock the Threshold.”

  James sucked in a deep breath beside her. He squeezed her hand tight before letting it go. “I can help with that.”

  He pulled his hand out of his pocket and laid a shining red stone in the middle of her lap. All the exiles stared at the jewel with wide eyes. For a long moment no one made a sound.

  Finally, Bron broke the silence. “Is that…?”

  “The Key of J
anus?” James said. “It certainly is. I managed to pocket it just before joining your merry band of exiles.”

  “You told us you were unsuccessful,” Shay said.

  “I lied,” he admitted. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”

  Geoffrey wrenched his eyes away from the glittering stone long enough to shoot James a questioning look. “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t trust you. I feared giving up control. And I couldn’t predict what one of you might try to do with it on your own,” he answered. “But now I know that Mercy is right. There’s only one way to defeat this curse and crush Oberon, and that’s by working together.”

  “And for the rest of us to find love.” Shay’s voice turned as dark as his eyes. “Something tells me it won’t be as easy for the rest of us as it was for the thief.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Fenrir interjected.

  “But for the first time, we have real hope,” James said, turning to look her in the eye.

  After another long moment of the exiles staring at each other, one by one they nodded in agreement.

  “Together then,” Shay consented.

  “Okay, but not, like all of us, right?” Emily piped up from her little seat in the corner. “You’re not expecting us innocent bystanders to get involved in your little magical turf war, are you?”

  Mercy shot her friend an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid we’re already involved.”

  “Mercy’s right,” James said. “Those guards on the cliff yesterday aren’t likely to forget your face.”

  “Besides, your expertise of this world’s folklore has already proven invaluable,” Geoffrey said.

  “You know what else is invaluable?” Emily asked. “My life.”

  “You don’t need to worry for your safety, my love,” Fenrir said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I give you my oath that no harm will come to you.”

  “No harm?” Emily said, her brows arching high. “No offense, but that’s not the kind of promise a guy can keep.”

  “Maybe a guy can’t, but the big, bad wolf can,” Fenrir said.