Hook aims his gun at Jack, but his brother is unshaken by the weapon aimed at his heart. He advances toward Hook. “The Horologia virus; how do you think England got it? Who do you think sent it to them?” Jack says, still moving forward with Hook’s gun pressed firmly against his waistcoat. Rain-soaked hair hangs heavy in Jack’s face, shielding his eyes as he shouts. “My father sent it to England, warning them of your mother’s intentions, and he died for it!”
My breath catches; my heart stills. As the pieces connect, my heart is conflicted with anger, sorrow, and empathy for this Lost Boy. My saturated clothes anchor me as everything moves in slow motion.
Shock crosses Hook’s face for a fraction of a moment before he regains his composure. “That is none of my concern. I came here to win England, not weep for your dead father.”
“It appears no one got what they wanted. Not England, not her people, not even your mother. No one! No one except you, brother,” Jack says. He steps back and gives an exaggerated bow. “The cure is all yours. Long live the Captain.”
“I intend to,” Hook says. He turns back to me, aiming the gun. “I’ve held up to my end of the bargain. Hand it over.”
Wavering, I watch Pete, hoping he will tell me to stop, to run for our lives. Instead, he frowns. “There’s no way out of this,” he says. “He’s won.”
“No,” I protest, counting four other soldiers including Hook nearby. Five against four—that is, if Jack is on our side. Blades against guns. Fear wells in me. Someone is going to die tonight, all because of me, because of what flows within my veins.
Doc’s eyes flick between Hook and me. “Gwen, do as he says.” His voice is stern, commanding.
Emotions collide inside me like a raging storm at sea. Tears burn my eyes, but I swallow back the lump in my throat, forbidding them to fall. I shake my head in protest. Doc gives me a slight nod and I see the glint of silver in his hand: Pete’s second dagger. I place one hand on his cheek and kiss the other. My heart shatters as I pull away.
Please, please don’t let anyone die. Not on my account.
Turning, I melt into Pete’s arms. He buries his face in my hair, and I can barely hear his whisper in the rain. “The first opportunity you have, I want you to run as fast as you can. Don’t look back no matter what. Don’t come back for me or Doc. Just run.”
His fingers comb through my hair, his heartbeat thrumming against my own. I place my hands on his face, my palms running along his stubbled cheeks. Finally, he leans his forehead against mine. He whispers again, “Run, Gwen. Run away, and don’t you ever forget that you are always a Lost Girl.”
Burning tears streak my cheeks. “Your Lost Girl,” I say, my grief drowning in his stare.
“Well, isn’t that sweet?” Hook says. He lifts the barrel of his gun toward Pete. “Young love. Now bring me the vial, Immune, or it’ll come to an unfortunate end.”
Reluctantly, I pull away from Pete’s arms. Wet, angry, and battling the ache of defeat, I step toward Hook, his palm held out, waiting for me to give him his prize.
He grins wickedly. “Hand it over,” he says.
He’s won, and that simple fact chokes me like his fat fingers wrapped around my neck, stealing my breath. I fix my gaze on Hook’s single dark eye and shove the vial into his outstretched hand.
“That’s a good little girl.”
“I am not a little girl,” I say, tightening my jaw.
“Oh, aren’t you cute? It’s absolutely …,” Hook says, scratching his head, “darling.”
As soon as Hook wraps his fingers around the glass tube, he turns to his soldiers. “Cuff the girl and the young doctor. We’re taking the cure, the boy, and the Immune. As for Pete,” Hook says, looking Pete up and down, “kill him!”
“No!” I shout as the soldiers move on Doc and Pete. A third guard moves toward me, but Jack steps in between us. He turns his sword on the soldiers. “No, that’s not what you agreed on.”
“Plans have changed,” Hook says. “It’s time you two get an up-close tour of the Jolly—”
Another explosion erupts outside the palace, followed by a dozen more. The ground shakes, sending lanterns smashing to the ground.
“Captain!” a Marauder says, running into the courtyard, breathless. “The soldiers! They’ve abandoned their posts. The ships … they’re spooked! Phantoms, I tell you. Firing on our own men!”
“What?” Hook says.
I turn toward Jack, and he meets my stare. I nod toward the katana in his hand.
Hook regards the vial in his grip, like the wheels of a clock turning in his mind, trying to find a solution to his predicament. “No worries. We still have the cure and the little girl,” he says. “As long as we have them both, I’ll be the most powerful man in the world.”
Rage erupts within me. I must end this. I will end this … for good!
I signal to Jack. He tosses the katana, and I catch it as Hook turns his attention to me.