Page 56 of Hooked

My breathing was shaky, but I sucked in and blew out steadily, forcing my body to conform to my will. I shook the tears from my eyes, looking down at the beach below and up to the clifftop above. We were more than halfway down the rugged staircase and once I stepped onto the ship, my options would diminish dramatically.

So I did my best to slow him down while quietly gathering my strength. I could only hope that my potential rescuers would have time to discover where Huckley had taken me. Once we reached the bottom of the stairs and I no longer ran the risk of falling to my death, I would fight with all I had.

Perhaps I was too quiet over the next few minutes. Perhaps I was too acquiescent. Perhaps he was smart enough to suspect I’d take any chance to get away from him.

Either way, we were five stairs from the bottom when he adjusted our positions. He brought me in front of him, curling one arm loosely around my neck as he pulled his knife out again, positioning it close to my throat.

The strength I had gathered drained from my limbs.

“I love the ocean,” Huckley effused as he eased us down the last few steps. “The raw power. The disregard for anything in its path. The ocean bends to the will of no man. And my ship allows me to harness that power, to work with it.”

His words might have been poetic if I didn’t know of his sinister intent.

We stepped out onto the sand, moving toward the dock that had a rowboat rocking alongside it.

“My ship,” the captain continued. “The ocean. The stars. It’s a spectacular view, isn’t it?”

I remained silent.

“That star there,” he said, pointing somewhere to the midwest with his knife. “I’ve named that star Janella, after my first wife.” He pointed again. “That one is Suzette.” He moved his finger again. “And that’s Lilianna.”

I swallowed, even more unnerved by the fact that he would immortalize his dead wives as stars—as if it was some sort of honor.

“You see that bright star?” he asked, pointing again with his knife. “The brightest in the sky?”

“The North Star?” I asked, my words slathered in bitterness, rage and fear.

“Yes,” he said in whispered awe. “You see the second star to the right of it?”

I spared a glance to the sky. “What of it?”

He turned his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in. “That’s the star I’ll name for you after you’re gone.”

I jerked away from him, but he moved the knife back to my throat. I stilled, seething in fury. “And how long will that be?” I bit out.

“Not to worry.” He used the cold blade to caress my cheek. “We will marry first. Come now.” He picked up his pace, forcing us across the sand and rocks.

“So how will you kill me?” I asked, trying to sound brave and defiant while I shook all over. “Have you decided yet? I know your second wife died in a carriage accident, perhaps you’ll try that again? Or do you prefer a variety?” I swallowed, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice. “How did you kill her anyway? It’s said that you were gone on a voyage when it happened.” I tripped over a rock, but he held me rigidly against him.

“That was easy enough to arrange. I am not a fool, after all. If a second wife died, and me without an alibi, I knew there would be suspicion. So I had Smeed damage the axle enough that it was bound to break on its own.”

Saints and angels, he was admitting he had killed his wives.

“And the third?”

“I had to be patient with Lilianna. Suzette had survived less than a year. I was anxious to select my next quarry, but I had to mitigate the risk of suspicion.”

We stepped up onto the dock, each step drawing us closer to a ship that could take me anywhere, away from everything I knew, everyone I loved.

“So I chose a poison that would accumulate in her system. I told her it was medicine, meant to make her better. It appeared to everyone as though she sickened, slowly worsening before wasting away—back to dust.”

My stomach roiled at the thought of his depravity.

“And then I saw you, and you were perfect. Just a bit too young. But that worked in my favor. I couldn’t remarry again too soon, after all. Instead I had the delicious anticipation of waiting for you to grow up.” He stopped beside the rowboat, pulling his arm from around my neck and taking hold of my arm instead. “Now, get in.”

I planted my feet. I would not go willingly.

His eyes narrowed as he saw my open defiance. But I swear there was also pleasure in his look. He enjoyed my defiance, because it gave him permission to be cruel.