Page 5 of Inked in Emeralds (Inkbound #3)

“ H armony!”

I whipped my head around, my hand going for my whip coiled at my side, not recognizing the voice at first.

Duncan stood behind me at the entrance to the great room, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. That easy grin—and the oh-so-charming dimple—warmed me after so much death and carnage.

The Fen. Noru. Pan and Tink. Losing Trick-Eyed Tom. Part of me just wanted to lean forward and lay my head on Duncan’s shoulder…

A shoulder that was oddly empty, I noted with a frown.

“Where’s your little sidekick?”

His hand lifted as if he’d forgotten she wasn’t there. “I sent Bonnie back to check on Alabaster. It seems that the falcons can go back and forth. It’s going well back home, but these things can be tenuous…”

And you should be there leading the people through this difficult transition instead of here helping me, I added mentally with a wince.

“The bigger question of the day, though…” He waggled his eyebrows. “What color did you get?”

It took a second before I realized what he meant, and I let him distract me. “Purple. How about you?”

“Yellow. And I mean, they go all the way with it. If I’ve got to choose between an evil wizard on a quest for unchecked power, and sleeping in a room that looks like a tub of pastel paint exploded inside it, I’m going to choose the second one all day.

Although…” He cocked his head like he was considering it, and a laugh bubbled from my lips.

“The bed is comfortable and the water is hot, so it’s no contest for me.

Plus, paint choices aside, they seem like good people, if a bit strange.

” I turned my attention back to the center of the great room, where dozens of round tables had been spread out for seating.

Two long banquet tables had been filled to the point of bowing at the center with food.

A band played a lively reel in the corner, and some of the partygoers had already begun dancing.

“So what’s the catch?” I crossed my arms.

There always was one. No way this place was as idyllic as it seemed.

His gaze drifted lower, to where I’d unconsciously propped up my chest, creating a tiny swell of cleavage.

My cheeks went hot, and I uncrossed my arms instantly.

Celia, the maid, had brought me a dress, so I was no longer wearing pants and a button-down like I had for days on end.

Now I was in a white cotton frock, with sprigs of blue and green flowers along the sweetheart neckline.

It was the least feminine of the three options she’d offered, and the only one in a color that didn’t look like it had been inspired by something from a sweets shop.

I’d accepted the fussy shoes that went with it, but had drawn the line at leaving off my belt that held my whip, despite her wrinkled nose.

Apparently, Duncan didn’t find it nearly as offensive, because his cheeks were ruddy and his gray eyes were dilated like he was hunting…something.

“I’m sorry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face before meeting my gaze again. “I know things are different here, and I promise I’ll catch you up. But it’s hard… seeing you and not?—”

“How long are we staying here?” a low voice growled.

My heart knocked against my ribs as I turned to see Hook standing behind me.

His black curls were damp, brushing his collar, and the spicy scent of soap washed over me in a rush.

I tried to formulate a reply, but then his gaze trailed down to my neck and lower, taking in every inch of me before returning to my face, and what remained of my thoughts fled.

“We were just discussing Munsch Kin Land, actually. Harmony was asking what the catch was,” Duncan said, a tightness in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before.

“And?” Hook pressed, his inky brow arching in question.

Duncan sighed. “Apparently, there’s?—”

“Hear ye, hear ye! Munsch Kinfolk and guests alike!”

The three of us swung our heads toward the booming voice echoing from the stage where the band had been. The Earl of Munsch stood there with a funnel-shaped device held to his mouth to help him project his voice.

“We’ll start with supper! And of course, our honored guests will sit with me and the Widow Codswallow up here on the dais. Once we’ve had our fill of food and drink, we have a special performance by our very own Lollipop Guild!”

Three bug-eyed young men with scowls on their faces and pipes clenched between their lips ran past, clasping both hands above their heads and shaking them like winning prizefighters. The crowd roared with excitement.

“…Followed by the Lullaby League!” the earl added, just as three giggling young women skipped out, dressed in peach-colored tutus. They paused in the middle of the floor and did three rapid twirls before scampering away again, much to the delight of the townsfolk.

As we took our seats along with the earl and other hand-picked guests on a raised dais, I found myself wishing, hoping , I was wrong. That, so long as we stayed indoors at night, things in Munsch Kin Land were as perfect as they seemed.

At least in The Hollow, you knew what you were getting. You were getting shit, no matter what angle you looked at it from. Little Alabaster was different. To an outsider, it looked like paradise. But hidden behind a magical wall was the truth. Poverty, oppression, and the stain of The Smudge.

I preferred my poison marked with a skull and crossbones over one disguised in a glass of delicious mead with a decorative flower floating on top.

Neverland had been much the same. Crystalline blue waters. Gentle weather. But at the farthest point of the island was a cave filled with the bones of Tink’s victims—all The Lost Boys whose souls she had fed upon.

Deep down, I knew Munsch Kin Land would be no different. It was only a question of what kind of horror show we were dealing with.

Still, there was no point borrowing trouble.

It was our first day here, and we had food, drink, and a roof over our heads.

Not to mention, Duncan as an ally once more.

I risked another glance his way and a sense of relief settled over me, pushing aside the last of my reservations.

Having friends when it felt like the whole universe conspired against me meant everything.

I could trust Duncan. He’d proven it time and time again. Strong, dependable, like a sunrise after a long night.

The sense that someone was watching me gave me pause, but it only took a half a heartbeat to identify the culprit, because my skin tingled.

Hook.

I tried to keep my gaze averted, but his onyx eyes drew mine like a magnet. And when I finally looked, they held me, pinned in place, as surely as chains. His expression was blank…or it would’ve been to the casual onlooker. Only I could see the riot of emotions roiling inside him.

Rage.

Grief.

Lust.

Fucking hell. If Duncan was a sunrise of warmth and comfort, Hook was a hurricane. And if I wasn’t careful, he would obliterate me.

Dragging my eyes from his, I struggled to find something to say. Anything.

“What do we have to drink around here?” I shot the earl a half-hearted smile as low-level panic clawed at my chest.

“Oh, just wait until you see!” he crowed.

He wasn’t kidding. After downing four cups of something called “thistle-grog,” my body felt loose and my brain a bit fuzzy in the best way. Even Hook was looking more relaxed than usual.

The next hour flew by in a haze of laughter, gluttony, and drink.

“This is delicious,” I mumbled around a mouthful of something brown and chewy, soaked in a peppery mushroom sauce. “Is this steak?” I asked, pointing my two-pronged fork in the earl’s direction.

“Steak?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, like from a cow type creature. A…mooligan, maybe?” A guess based off the sign I’d seen in the whipped cream shop window.

The earl drew back with a gasp and laid a hand over his heart. “As in the flesh of an animal ?”

Duncan leaned in from where he was seated to my left and murmured just loud enough for me to hear. “They’re vegetarians.”

Whoops.

“Heavens, no. Not that. Never.” The earl went a little green around the gills. “That’s pawelea root.” He leaned in closer, eyes narrowed. “Do they eat…steak where you’re from?”

Hook and I exchanged a glance. He shook his head, reaching for his half-empty mug.

“Nope.”

“Yeah, nope. Definitely not.” I stuffed another bite in my mouth to keep from asking any more questions that might make an enemy out of our new allies.

The earl nodded, but didn’t seem entirely convinced as he took a long pull from his cup.

“Make sure you leave some room for dessert,” Duncan said, changing the subject as he set his own fork down. “The guy who met us in the white apron when we first got here?”

“Crumpet?” I thought back to the little man with the jam-smeared apron.

“Yep, that’s him. He’s the village baker. He makes these pastries filled with chocolate and Bavarian cream. Drizzles them with honey. Rolls them in almonds. Slice of paradise.”

Even the world ending, and it very well might be, wouldn’t stop me from getting one of those in my belly tonight.

Molly would have loved it. My heart twisted a little at the thoughts of my friend. I’d just have to eat one of those treats for her.

I shoved one more bite of pawelea root into my mouth and dropped my fork on the plate.

“Lead me to it.” I set my hands on the arms of the chair and pushed away from the table with a groan.

A sure sign I should skip dessert, no matter how much I wanted it.

Along the same lines, I should probably bypass the rest of my intoxicating drink and get a good night’s sleep, so I could start doing what I’d come here to do.

When I thought about the witch Almira and how fast her attacks had escalated from one story to the next, it was obvious that dilly-dallying could be the kiss of death—literally.

But another part of me, the human part, knew something else, too.