Flying

Chapter 17: The Hollow

Yelling curses at his brother, Hook is dragged to the side by four of Peter's boys. Nibs stands over me, combing the whip lashes with his fingers. Summoning the last of my courage, I glare at Peter as Nibs raises his arm.

"Hold!" Wind interrupts.

Peter starts to protest, but she cuts him off with an imperious wave of her hand. Tilting her head up, she closes her eyes. Her hands begin shaking as she chants rapidly under her breath.

"He has arrived." Wind looks at Peter. "We must set up defenses immediately."

Peter nods. "Throw them back into the pit until morning. We'll finish this then."

"But let's make sure you don't have any weapons down there." Wind crooks her fingers. "Restrailesh."

The whip levitates out of the pit and transforms into a black chain. Wrapping itself around Hook's right wrist and my left wrist, it binds us together.

"Not again," I groan. "Once was bad enough."

Grabbing us, Peter's teenagers shove us down the hole. I grab Hook's forearms and fly down slowly so neither of us fall. He clutches me to his chest for a moment while we catch our breath, his face just inches above mine.

"Lovey," he grins cockily at me, "this isn't exactly the most romantic place to kiss, but I can tell by your grip that you're desperate so I suppose I'll make an exception."

"Shut up," I reply, pushing away from his bare chest.

Releasing me, Hook glances upwards to the opening of the hole. The boys are placing a metal grate over the entrance, and I can hear Peter barking out orders.

"Well, we are in quite a mess, Stormy. Shall we adjourn to the pool and clean the blood from your beautiful countenance?"

"Your beautiful countenance is worse than mine," I retort, picking up his coat from where I slept last night.

"So you think I'm beautiful?" Hook asks archly.

Rolling my eyes, I don't dignify his question with a response. When we reach the water, I clean the blood from his face with the sleeve of his coat. There are several cuts, but nothing that will mar his looks forever. Which I'm sure will be a great relief for him. His back is much worse though. He inhales sharply as I start to clean the blood away.

"Sorry."

Wordlessly, Hook gestures for me to continue. There's not much I can do for the lash cuts and welts, but I rip strips of lining from his coat and bandage his back as best as I can.

"Your turn now."

Hook wipes the blood from my cheek where the whiplash cut me. Anxiously, he scans the rest of my face looking for more injuries.

"All right, now your back." He gestures for me to turn around.

"I'll be fine," I protest. "Nibs didn't hit me too many times."

"Yes, you'll be fine because I'm going to clean your wounds," Hook replies.

"There's really no need."

Putting a finger under my chin, Hook lifts my face so I am looking directly at him. "I know you don't want to let me help you because you think that I'm trying to gain your trust so I can use you. I give you my word of honor that I won't hurt you," he promises, his eyes as steady as a cloudless day. "Please believe in me. I am not my brother."

I can feel my icy shield of suspicion beginning to melt under his gaze. It is exhausting doubting him all the time, and perhaps it might be nice to have someone to rely on. Maybe I don't need to face this alone. I start to nod, but a faint alarm bell rings in the back of my head. Flicker's warnings filter into my thoughts. This could all be a ploy. Just because he's at war with his brother doesn't mean he's on my side. I don't know what to do. I've never been so uncertain in my life. When I look into Hook's face, I want to trust him. His eyes pull at me in a way no man's ever have, but I can't be influenced just by a handsome face and smooth voice.