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  Pushing myself upright, I found myself staring into those piercing blue eyes. Peter had witnessed everything, but his body remained paralyzed in time.

  “I will end you one day,” I vowed. His glare matched mine and the corner of his mouth turned upright, a sign that time was beginning to break forward. I needed to leave before that happened. I wouldn’t be able to defy him in my state. However, one daunting question lingered in my mind.

  “Why?” With my arms spread wide, I showcased the destruction brought upon the doomed ship by his doing. “Why convince them that immortality is anything but a curse?”

  Peter simply stared back at me, yet the fury in his eyes never wavered. I opened my mouth to heed the warning that following me would equate death, but it wasn’t my words that left my tongue.

  “I needed an army, darling. I am not foolish enough to take on someone as powerful as you alone,” Peter said, using my voice to utter his plan.

  I snapped my mouth closed. I didn’t want to hear his confession, especially coming from my mouth. The twinkle in his blue eyes shimmered as the realization washed over me. He had played me. Completely. I wanted to kill him, but now was not the time. I could hardly bring myself to stand, let alone fight Peter or the crew I had just cursed.

  Instead, I balled my fists up and opened my mouth to speak. Again, it was his words that leapt from my tongue instead of my own.

  “I’m not finished with you, Bell.” I pressed my lips together and spoke my chosen words rather than the ones he forced from me. “Nor I with you. When I figure out how to end you, I will find you. That I swear.”

  I lowered one of the small rowboats that survived the wreckage, and pushed off the side of the ship as to put as much distance between me and the Jolly Roger as possible. The waves of the sea carried me forward until I could muster the strength to row myself. I never looked back. Not once. Instead, I set eyes on the future, for I had a promise to uphold.

  3 CAPTAIN JAMES

  Earlier that year

  Being a pirate was the only thing truly good about my life. It gave me everything I’d ever wanted. Power. Gold. Women. But the thing about stealing what wasn’t mine was that I always craved more. Always. I knew it would be my undoing someday, but until that time came, I would relish in my good fortunes.

  With my gaze set on the horizon, I pulled out a bronze compass from my breast pocket. I had swiped it from a lieutenant general before I was dishonorably discharged. I chuckled. The compass wasn’t the only thing I took without permission, I thought as I rolled one hand over the worn wood of the warship while I flipped the compass open with the other. We were still headed southeast toward Barbuda. I tucked the compass back inside my gold-trimmed, crimson coat. While my association with the navy was severed long ago, I still fancied the colors. Vixens seemed to fancy them as well…

  In two weeks’ time, we’d make port. While my first love was the sea, I was ready to set my feet on land again. For three long months, I’d seen nothing but…well, men—and dirty, foul lads at that. I was ready for some softer, more delicate company, though I’d never admit it. Enough outcasts in my crew already thought I was too young, too weak to command such a vessel as the Jolly Roger.

  “Damn fools,” I mumbled as I pulled my collar up high to cover the thin, white scar across my neck: a reminder that others have sought my death, yet I still breathed. Even so, I despised that any such man had brought me so close to death. I also hated that my collar constantly fell down, revealing the scar— proof I wasn’t as invincible as I liked them to believe.

  My first mate, Michael, joined me at the wheel. The summer sun had left its mark on his dark, tanned skin. He rarely bothered to pair a shirt with his pants. Today was no different.

  He sighed heavily as he glanced at the feather on my hat. “You look ridiculous,” he groaned.

  “I believe the word you are seeking is prestigious,” I replied with a smirk.

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re a damn pirate. Dress like one.”

  “Captain,” I corrected, straightening my coat. “I’m a captain and I will dress as such.”

  “Yet you can’t find a straight edge,” he mocked, crossing his arms over his chest. I stroked my chin and neck. The stubble was growing in thick. Good. The more that covered the scar, the better.

  Chuckling, he turned around and leaned against the railing with his elbows. He nodded down ship. “Something set Smee off.”

  I turned around just as the old man stepped onto the bow to join us. Sweat covered his brow. He wheezed and then fiddled with the glass piece over his eye as he gathered his words. I waited, knowing my impatience would not help his stutter.

  “There’s a…gi-gi-gi…” Smee swallowed and then tried to voice his words again. “A girl. A dead girl fl-fl-floating across the waves.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Many souls were cast to the sea. Death was not unusual. “Your point?”

  “She floats cro-cro-crosswind. It’s unnatural,” Smee pointed out. “Show me,” I demanded as Michael cursed. He didn’t need to say anything about it being bad luck to bring a girl on a ship, much less one in a ghostly form that was defying the laws of the ocean.

  Smee led us to the stern. I glanced up at the crow’s nest. I groaned when I saw Calicos’ fiery red hair. How had that boy missed a damn dead girl in broad daylight? His twin, Kale, had the nightshift and never missed a thing. Apparently Kale had the better eye.

  “Calicos must be blind if he missed the only thing floating in the sea for miles,” I ranted, spreading my arms wide to point out we were the only ship for miles.

  Michael groaned, “I will talk to him.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind.”

  “You just like watching them squirm when your hand gets twitchy,” Michael snickered.

  “Twitchy hand?” “It’s your tell. When you’re getting ready to fight, it twitches,” he nodded to my fingers that were strumming on my sword’s hilt. He didn’t elaborate further as we were now within earshot of the rest of my crew and pointing out a tell of mine was bad form.

  My crew parted for Michael and me as we made our way to the edge. As usual, Smee stayed in the back of the crowd. He was loyal, but Smee had his suspicions and was not much of a fighter. I’d never even seen him hold a sword, though he carried the gun I’d given to him everywhere.

  As we approached, Cadmus pointed to the girl who was lying on a piece of charred wood that floated eerily slow in the water below. The waves lapped over the girl’s moss-covered skin as she lay motionless on the board. Bits of seaweed were tangled in her shimmering blonde tresses. How long had she been drifting if moss had grown over her? She should have been nothing but bone, yet her body was intact. Burnt, but intact.

  I leaned over the rail to get a closer look. A piece of metal was clutched in her hand. “She’s got a death grip on a trinket,” I announced in an attempt not to draw further attention to what really concerned me. After all, it wasn’t the metallic item in her hand that gave me pause. Rather, it was that we were miles from shore, with no other ship in sight, yet somehow this girl managed to wash out this far. Smee was right. She defied the water current.

  “Evil is upon us,” Michael declared, rubbing the

  back of his neck like he always did in uncomfortable situations. “Shut up. One dead girl is hardly cause for an uproar,” I replied without taking my sight off of her. I stared at her, searching for the familiar rise and fall of a living being’s chest. There was nothing…well, nothing noteworthy. “Cadmus, fish the girl out.”

  “It’s bad luck to bring a woman on a ship, much less a witch,” Robben warned as he moved to the front of the crowd. He pointed at Michael. “His sister already holds a place amongst us. That’s bad enough.”

  Michael stepped forward, but I stuck my arm out to stop him. His chest heaved from not wanting to be submissive, but I would fight my own battles, damn it. Adjusting the cuffs of my jacket, showing that Robben was less important than a wrinkle in my attir
e, I stepped out in front of my crew.

  “Wendy not fancying your company doesn’t warrant her banishment.” I was the one who had demanded Michael’s sister sailed with us that lonely night. And the matter of their brother, John, was simple. I couldn’t very well insist on a woman boarding the ship and leave a good lad like John behind. Each had been my decision, not Michael’s. My eyes came up to Robben’s chest, but I wasn’t concerned. Well, I’d seen his fist do some damage, but he was a Neanderthal with a sword. “Challenge my authority again, Robben.”

  Robben pushed up his sleeves, showing off his brawny physique. He could crush my bones, but he would have to get close enough. I knew my way around a sword. Stories of my handiwork ran rampant across the Seven Seas.

  “I have sailed with you for years, James. I’m not challenging you,” he coyly objected. He wasn’t yielding. I didn’t have to glance down to know his hand gripped the knife he always kept by his side. He scoffed, eyeing the scar on my neck. “I’m merely offering my counsel.”

  “Consider me counseled,” I cautioned. I stroked my chin, scratching my fingers over the stubble. “Cadmus, stand down. Robben will fetch the girl.”

  “I’m not a dog,” Robben grumbled. “Are you certain?” My fingers twitched. I was hungry to grab the hilt of my sword and put Robben in his place, but I fought the urge to spray his blood across my deck. “Fetch.”

  He cracked his neck. By his glare, I could tell he was weighing the outcome of taking me on. “You’re cocky, but you aren’t invincible,” Robben snarled. “ Someone got close enough to give you that scar on your neck. Tell me, how did it feel to have your throat slit?”

  My sword was in my hand before I realized I had withdrawn it. “Perhaps you’ll know soon enough.”

  A hush fell upon the crew. Not even Robben spoke as the blade shimmered in the morning light.

  “I’ll get the girl, Cap,” Robben bellowed, his nostrils flaring. “But she will attract evil. I’m certain.” I smirked, “Perhaps she is attracted to evil, which is why she found me.”

  “You’ll be the death of us all,” he snarled. “I’m the one in charge so I’ll be the one giving the orders. So unless you have some problem with my authority, do what you are told,” I commanded and then added, “Don’t come back without that trinket in her hand.”

  Sliding my sword back in its sheath, I stood and watched as Robben climbed down to retrieve the girl. Michael maintained his position beside me.

  “You antagonize him on purpose,” Michael mumbled under his breath. “I am merely giving Robben ample opportunity to challenge me outright. We both know he seeks command of the Jolly Roger, and he’s thick-headed enough to believe his ridiculous stature can intimidate me.” I answered dismissively as I tried not to yell at the pirate in question for yanking the girl by the hair to see her face.

  “A little more delicately, Robben!” I snapped and then turned my back to the fool. Clenching and relaxing my hands, I took a deep breath. “I swear he antagonizes me on purpose, too.”

  Michael chuckled. “Perhaps he believes you to be the thick-headed one.”

  “I’ve been accused of worse,” I admitted. There was a thud and the floorboards shifted under my feet. Robben had dumped the girl onto the deck. He stood over her and didn’t back away as I approached. Screw it. I didn’t bother to deal with him, not when there was a more interesting creature aboard my vessel.

  The nape of her neck showed, revealing traces of ink on her skin. That was insanely interesting and gave a hint to her upbringing. Few women tattooed themselves. The ones I knew of spread their legs far too easily and were disease-ridden. But this vixen didn’t appear as if she made a living by utilizing her body. Her tattered clothes clung to her frail body. Her skin was red. Her lips chapped…Her lips.

  One trembled.

  It was faint.

  Barely proof that she was alive, but she was nevertheless.

  “She lives,” I whispered in disbelief. Michael kneeled beside me and muttered, “James, I know you believe Robben to be a fool, but please, for the fate of your ship, toss her back into the sea. She’s hardly alive as…”

  His words faded into a low thrumming sound as I brushed the hair out of her face. Seaweed had stained her blonde locks. What was more curious was that her ears came to a point at the tips and were decorated with silver jewelry. In another life, she would have been considered pretty. But she was petite in a way that appeared helpless, and she was far too thin, too frail. And she needed to get out of the sun. Her burns had eaten away her skin. Blisters were already forming all over her body. They would surely leave scars if she survived.

  “Here’s the damn trinket you requested,” Robben spat. The shiny piece of metal caught my eye as soon as he dropped it. A bronze pocket watch lay on her chest. It was a watch that I hadn’t seen in almost a decade. It had belonged to my family for generations before it disappeared. I thought it was lost to the sea.

  Without having to open it, I knew what was inscribed inside.

  We’re all dust in the end. A cold chill washed over me. Anything my father owned was surely cursed. Anything he touched was evil. Pure evil. I rubbed my throat, loathing the man who saw it fit to remind me of his authority. He did so with the tip of his sword. Wishing that his reminder wasn’t so prominent, I tugged at my collar to make sure the scar was covered.

  I stood up and folded my hands behind my back. After a quick glance at my first mate, I turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction of the undead girl with the cursed pocket watch. It wasn’t a second later that Michael joined my side. He said nothing, waiting for me to speak.

  “I don’t want that vixen on board,” I stated flatly.

  Michael let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I’ll tell the men to—”

  “Send her to my quarters,” I ordered.

  “What?” he questioned.

  “I have questions for her.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What could you possibly question a nameless sea dame about?”

  “Where she got my father’s pocket watch,” I answered casually, yet the impact of what I wasn’t saying hit home for Michael.

  The realization surfaced in his eyes almost immediately. He was on board that ship with me the night before it sank.

  “Bring her to the captain’s quarters,” Michael hollered as he strode back over to her. “Smee, get Wendy so she can dress her wounds.”

  Without having to ask, Michael retrieved the watch, picking it up with a piece of cloth. The second he seized the timepiece, the girl’s eyes fluttered open. She had the fiercest glare I’d ever seen from anyone, man or woman. Even though her body was weak, her stare was not. Her jade-colored eyes held a perilous appearance that, no matter how many times she blinked, never went away.

  I was, without a doubt, breathless. “Where did you get this?” I pressed, not realizing that my legs had carried me to her without a conscious thought.

  The corner of her mouth tugged. Without answering, her eyes shut. A chill washed over me. I had invited Death upon my ship.

  4 MISS BELL

  Present Day

  I wished I was dead. Death would have been more merciful. Instead, I thrived in a moment between reality and dreams. I had been trapped in that moment when I knew I was sleeping, but I hadn’t been able to wake up. I don’t know how long I had slept for, but for me it could have been one slow blink. The timepiece I had been carrying for seconds, days, weeks, decades altered time in that way.

  I’d taken one slow blink before that had lasted a decade. It was then that I had floated on a piece of charred wood that belonged to Davy Jones’ ship and awoke on his son, Captain James Jones’ vessel.

  Fleeing from Peter was when I had taken my second long, slow blink. Sleep had taken me. It had comforted me, saving me from reality and allowing the dark thoughts to fade to blackness. I had pretended my captain was with me evermore.

  Nevertheless, when I opened my eyes I didn’t see his mischievous brown eyes or
that infuriating smirk I’d come to love. Instead, I saw the darkness of the sky. The memory of his kiss on my lips could have been the dew and the warm summer air settling down on them. My time with the captain could have been written off as one remarkable dream. I could have imagined it all.

  But I didn’t. There was no mistaking the shattered glass covering the hands of the clock. The injuries I bore could not be written off. The time I spent with my captain had happened. Because of James, I had known what it was to love another and to sacrifice everything I’d ever known at the chance of a life worth living. The being I was before him was empty, and no matter how lonely my heart was now, I would never trade away the emptiness because there was a time it was full.

  “I miss you,” I whispered to no one.

  I had no one. So I watched the morning sun peek over the horizon alone. One day had passed since John tried to steal my captain’s compass. I pulled it out, wishing it would lead me to James. I opened it and stared at the water drop that was now near the southern edge. I traced my finger over the circle. It didn’t budge. But when I let out a breath, the air moved it a little just like a raindrop would move if I blew upon it. Neverland’s magic reacted to me, recognizing me as one of its creatures.

  Waves crashed against the rowboat, bringing me back to my current situation. I had planned to float as far as the sea would take me. However, it was when the bottom of the boat scraped along the beach that I noticed I’d floated ashore.

  Until I wiped my eyes, I hadn’t realized how swollen the one had become. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay…”

  Repeating this over and over, I forced myself to think logically. I knew I couldn’t stay in the boat forever. I needed to pull myself together, for Peter would hunt me as soon as time unleashed itself. With that in mind, I welcomed the hatred that festered in my soul.

  Using my anger to fuel my strength, I peered over the side of the rowboat. My back ached, protesting all movement. Ignoring the pain, I inspected my wounds. The beautiful lines of my back were no longer there. Instead, huge gashes covered my skin where Peter had scraped the tattoo right off of my skin.