by J. M. Page
Peter nodded, but Wendy wasn't so sold on it.
"Wait, that's a lot of uncertainty," she said. "I thought you had more than that to go on."
Peter shrugged. "There's only so much planning you can do. There's no accounting for how other people are going to react."
She frowned. "But how is Tink supposed to get past the guards?"
Tink flashed a brilliant white smile and held up a small plastic bag of fine powder. "By giving them a taste of their own medicine. They'll lead me straight to the boys once I've got them dusted."
Wendy swallowed, her eyes darting between Peter and Tink. Finally, she pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod. "Okay, let's do it then."
Peter and Wendy went in first, giving Tink a minute's buffer to sneak in as they distracted the guard. He wasn't sure what the story was going to be, but he was pretty good at winging it, so he wasn't too worried.
Wendy on the other hand, kept tugging and pulling at her dress, hunched over at the waist trying to cover up her exposed skin.
"Stop fidgeting," Peter hissed under his breath. "You have to look the part."
"Yeah, well, I am not comfortable in this. It's kind of hard to act like I am."
Peter rolled his eyes, huffing out his annoyance. He stopped, took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "You are the most beautiful, incredible, and resilient woman I've ever met. You can do this. I know you can."
Wendy's eyes searched his for a moment, uncertainty flashing there as her lower lip quivered. He wanted so badly to lean in and kiss her right then, but looking the way he did — and trying to pass off their act — he didn't do it.
She sucked in a steadying breath, pressed her lips together, and gave him a single nod, her face set with determination. "Right. Let’s go save my brothers."
"That's my girl," Peter said, trying to shove away the fluttery feeling of excitement those words sent through him.
When they started walking again, Wendy didn't fidget with her dress or walk half-slouched. She'd fallen into the role, sauntering with her head held high, her shoulders back, her hips swaying with each step. Thought he could sense the dust all around him and felt a prickle under his skin, Wendy in that tight dress, with all that confidence, was enough of a distraction for him. He hardly even noticed the dust, and that in and of itself was a welcome surprise. If all these people weren't dusted beyond imagination, Peter was sure she'd be turning every head in the place.
The guards noticed her though.
Good. Let them notice. That way, they'd miss Tink coming in a few minutes behind them.
Peter led the way to the big doorway where there had been a sign-up sheet for auditions the previous day. A thick-muscled guard stood sentry with his arms folded, making eye contact with Peter from twenty meters away, holding it with a challenge the entire time they proceeded toward him.
"Ah, yes, hello," Peter said, affecting a paper-thin old man voice. "We're here for the auditions for this—" He stopped like he was clearing a rasp from his throat, but really, he just nearly choked on the words, "fine establishment."
Wendy nudged him with her hip, a silent reminder to stay in character.
The guard looked them up and down, his expression completely nonplussed. "Auditions were yesterday," he said.
Peter did his best to seem genuinely surprised, his face falling and a sad "Oh..." coming from his lips. "Is there any way we could still try out?" he asked hopefully.
The guard grumbled something and widened his stance. "No."
Peter swallowed, this was the part of the plan he was supposed to be winging, but now his mind was drawing up blank. It had been too long since he'd planned a caper like this and he was rusty.
He felt Wendy's hand on his arm and looked over to her, his eyebrows raised. She gave him a firm look that clearly said, "let me handle this," and Peter took a step back, impressed with her even more. He'd expected her to just stand there and look pretty — to everyone else looking like a prop until the time came when she was needed — but Wendy seemed to have other plans.
He didn't know what she was planning, but it had to be better than his head full of nothing.
"I'm so sorry," she cooed to the guard, stepping closer toward him. His eyes raked down her body and Peter clenched his fists at his side, trying not to be too obvious.
"I was afraid this would happen," she sighed, looking back at him. "He's forgetful, you see. But this has been the one thing that's gotten him excited these past few weeks, preparing for this show..." Wendy pressed her hand to her heart, but then started to trace a line above the top of her strapless dress with one fingertip as she spoke. The guard's eyes followed that fingertip as if she was hypnotizing him.
Her voice went lower, so that Peter had to strain to hear her. "I know it wouldn't get us anywhere, but it would mean the world to him to be able to show his act to someone." Her fingers danced along her collarbone absently and the guard licked his lips, his eyes never meeting hers. "Is there any way you could find it in your heart to do this old man a kindness?"
He still looked a little unsure, then Wendy reached out and started dancing her fingertips up his arm. "Please?" she asked, pulling off a remarkably sultry pout that Peter never would've guessed was in her. She was giving Tink a run for her money, for sure.
And speaking of Tink, Peter watched her slip by unnoticed through the door just beyond the guard while he was totally entranced with Wendy's performance. Step one complete.
The guard stammered and his eyes roved down Wendy's body again, not even bothering to be subtle. "I'll see what I can do," he said, turning and taking a few steps away before pressing his fingers to his ear and saying a few words under his breath. He nodded and returned to them.
"The boss says he's willing to humor your pal, come with me," the guard said.
Wendy positively beamed at him and the jealous snake around Peter's heart coiled tighter. He knew it was all an act, but that didn't stop him from wanting to rip the guy's eyes out for looking at his Wendy.
The security guard led them through a series of hallways, up an elevator and through another set of winding halls. Wendy looked nervous again, wringing her hands as they stayed a handful of paces behind their guide.
"I can't believe that worked," she whispered, her voice awed.
Peter grinned and snuck a quick kiss on her shoulder. "You were brilliant," he whispered back.
A warm pink glow filled her face and Wendy smiled to herself, still trying to keep up appearances in case their guide turned around.
Instead, he stopped at a huge door with 'Director James Hook' in bright gold letters. This guy was gaudy to the very bone.
"You've got ten minutes of his time," the guard said, swinging the door open for them, but remaining on the other side of it.
Show time, Peter psyched himself up. This was the moment of truth. He just hoped they could find a way to get everyone — not just Wendy's brothers — out. He didn't know how they'd manage it, but hopefully they'd have enough evidence after this trip to bring Hook to justice... or something.
"You ready?" he asked Wendy, offering his arm to her.
She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow and nodded. "As I'll ever be."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Wendy
Wendy's heart sped up as they crossed into the room, but she tried to keep the bubbly performer's smile plastered on her face. Being a ditzy seductress was a stretch for her, but Wendy had to admit that she'd kind of enjoyed the attention and power her little charade had given her.
They walked into the large room and the first thing Wendy spotted was a huge glass wall directly ahead. It overlooked the casino floor where Wendy could clearly see all the games being played, and everyone walking in — no one walked out.
Not yet at least, she had to remind herself before that thought made her too despondent.
The next thing she saw, when she swiveled her gaze to the right, was Hook himself behind a huge, intrica
tely-carved white and black desk that looked like it was made of marble and gold. Unlike most desks, there was no open space at the bottom where she could see his feet or the floor. It was just desk, all the way down, solid and heavy looking. Behind Hook, there was a wall full of monitors that seemed to cover every inch of the casino grounds. The guy did not slack on surveillance, that was for sure.
"So I hear you have a little show for me today?" Hook asked, his voice sounding friendly enough, even if Wendy wasn't about to be taken in by that again.
Peter nodded, stepping forward with a shuffle, playing the old man role perfectly. "Yes, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule," he said.
Wendy couldn't stop looking around at the exquisite furnishings. There was a fountain in one corner, a statue in another, there were gilt-framed paintings and expensive-looking vases on display, even a pair of crossed swords on one wall with jeweled handles. It seemed that Hook had no problem flaunting his wealth, despite it coming at the expense of anyone who entered his establishment.
The thought that he'd purchased these things with money he made off of performers like her brothers — performers that had no say in the matter — made her blood boil.
"No matter. I'm happy to extend my welcome to anyone who wants to join my little outfit here," Hook said amicably. Knowing it was all an act made Wendy feel like there were slugs under her skin.
But she turned back to face Hook with that mannequin grin plastered in place, her eyes secretly searching the monitors behind him for any sight of her brothers.
"Shall we get started?" Peter asked.
Hook opened his hand in a sweeping motion. "Be my guest," he said with a smirk hiding beneath his curled mustache. Wendy felt cold looking at his expression, but she was also busy studying the monitors, searching, looking... and there! She found their twin heads of bright copper in the top left corner of the wall.
"With the help of my lovely assistant here..." Peter was going through his spiel, but Wendy's attention was locked on that screen. Peter didn't actually need her to do anything, so she just stayed in place, giving that vapid grin that was starting to make her cheeks hurt with the effort of keeping it up.
Her brothers were in a room together, laying back on a pile of pillows, a gaggle of beautiful girls surrounding them, giggling around them. So that was how he'd kept them. Wendy didn't think the dust would affect her brothers all that much — not like it did Peter — but she knew it made people go along with just about anything and the boys didn't need much encouragement to go along with pretty girls fawning over them.
Peter took her hand and twirled her around, demonstrating that she wasn't hiding anything — as if she could hide anything in this skin-tight dress. The moment she was facing the wall of monitors again, her eyes shot to the upper left corner where something was happening. Without sound, it was hard to tell, but the girls in the room all started to back away and then Tink — exuding fiery fury — stomped in, grabbed Michael by the wrist and yanked him to his feet, shoving him out the door. John, she offered her hand to, beckoning him, and he seemed to snap out of his stupor enough to go with it.
But Tink didn't leave once the boys were off-screen. She jabbed her finger accusingly at the girls, hurling what looked like obscenities at them, her face going crimson with barely restrained rage. Come on, Tink, get out of there, Wendy thought, fighting the urge to fidget to ease her nerves. She needed to play the part.
Peter performed his little trick, but botched it totally — she was pretty sure that was on purpose — and Hook chuckled. Good, maybe if his guard was down, they'd have a better chance of success.
He kept laughing and Wendy looked to Peter, wondering if she'd missed a joke, but Peter gave a little shrug, seeming as puzzled as she was.
"Did you really think I wouldn't see through this ridiculous disguise, Pan?" Hook finally said, sobering.
Wendy's throat closed up. They'd been caught! Her blood slowed to an icy trickle and she looked at Peter in panic.
Peter's head was tilted to the side, regarding Hook carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy saw Tink leave the room the boys had been in and then she searched the other monitors trying to track their progress. As long as they got out, whatever happened now would be worth it.
Peter started to try and say something, but finally failed, a slow grin spreading his lips. "What gave me away?"
Wendy's head snapped around to look at him, her eyes wide, trying to see if he'd lost his mind. They probably could've played it off for a little while longer, but he just went and admitted to it outright. What was he thinking?
Peter ignored her look of dismay, holding his hand out in the universal symbol for 'stop' below his waist. She spotted it and held her tongue, trusting him to know what he was doing, even if finding that trust was nearly impossible.
Hook chuckled and steepled his fingers together, leaning forward on the desk. "Oh, I have my ways. Seeing the lovely Miss Bell was a sure tip off, and your... assistant's uncanny resemblance to my newest acquisitions... But I think what really betrayed you was the call I received from a distraught mermaid, bargaining for her sisters back."
Wendy's eyes flicked away from the screen where Tink and the boys were hurrying down a hallway to look towards Peter, seeing him clench his jaw, grinding his teeth.
The mermaids had betrayed them? Wendy wanted to be upset about it, but knowing that she'd probably do the same for her brothers, she couldn't fault Alina. She had given them the disguise, after all. Not that it did much good at this point.
As if to punctuate her thoughts, Peter yanked the thin chain from his neck and his body again went blurry and bright. Like all his atoms were vibrating so quickly he couldn't form a solid shape. His body settled back into his familiar appearance and Wendy was surprised by how happy she was to see him again, even though he'd been there the whole time.
"Guess I don't need that anymore, then," Peter said, shoving the necklace in his pocket.
"So what's your plan here? I know you're trying to rescue your sweetie's poor innocent brothers, but why all the pageantry, Pan?"
So Hook didn't even care that they were getting Michael and John out. Good. They were safe. But as she followed their trek through the casino and they wound up at the door to leave, the trio stopped. John and Tink started to argue and at first it looked like Michael was taking her side, but then he flipped allegiances and the twins had her outnumbered. What they were arguing about was anyone's guess.
"They aren't the only ones you've kidnapped, Hook," Peter snarled. "You're going to release all the performers and the patrons and stop the illegal use of dust or we'll submit all the evidence we have to the GTC. I'm sure the Queen would stop sending all her diplomats here on vacation if she realized you were manipulating them. She's quite particular about loyalty, you know."
Hook actually appeared to pale a shade, his Adam's apple moving deliberately as he swallowed.
"So you've discovered my little secret, eh? I thought you of all people would understand using the dust for gain... Or have you forgotten your latest performance?"
Peter's fists tightened at his sides and a hot flush of red spread up his neck. "That's not the same," he said through clenched teeth.
"No? It's just a matter of semantics. You think you're better than me, but look around you. Clearly I'm the one that wins this battle."
Wendy wanted to chime in, to help somehow, but what could she say? She just watched her brothers and Tink turn away from the door and head back into the casino, trying not to curse to herself as they did.
Peter arched a brow and somehow managed to produce his signature devil-may-care grin, though Wendy didn't know how he could be cavalier at a time like this. "Is that so? Because I seem to recall quite a few instances when I've defeated you... Actually," he said, tapping his chin as if the thought had only just occurred to him. "I'm hard pressed to think of an instance in which you were the victor. Seems to me, Hooky, that you should just go ahead and surrender
now. I'll go easy on you."
Hook jolted up from his desk, slapping his palms on the marble surface as his chair flew backward, sliding into the wall. His face was ablaze with anger, but his features smoothed out as he took a breath and tried to appear calmer. "You're the one that should be surrendering," he said. "I'm a reasonable man. If you leave now and keep this knowledge to yourself, I'll make sure your theater is safe and under your ownership. See there? We can all have what we want."
For a horrifying moment, Wendy thought Peter was actually considering the offer. It was everything he'd wanted, but what about all the innocent people still being held here? All those still yet to be ensnared?
Peter laughed. "Alright, how about we fight for it?" he said, reaching for one of the swords mounted on the wall. "I win, you let everyone go, destroy your stash of dust, and try to keep your place afloat with honest business practices." Then, he turned to Wendy and said under his breath, still loud enough for Hook to hear, "He wouldn't make it a month."
Hook practically growled as he took the other sword from the wall. "And when I win, you and your whole merry band stay here and work for me."
"Peter," Wendy hissed, but he made that waving 'don't' motion at her again and nodded, extending his hand to Hook for a shake.
"It's a wager," he said.
The smarmy confidence in Hook's answering grin made Wendy certain that this was a terrible idea, icy eels slithering and wriggling in her chest.
"Get back, Wen, you don't want to be too close when he starts blubbering and begging for mercy," Peter said, still far too confident for her liking as he pulled off his coat and tossed it aside.
But Wendy did step back, pressing herself against the wall of windows, her heart in her throat.
They touched their swords together and then each took a few paces backwards. They circled each other, each measuring the other up.
"You always were too cocky for your own good," Hook said, shirking his jacket as well. His free hand was balled at his side, the knuckles white, like he was prepared to punch Peter if the sword fight went sideways. "But you never did learn the most important part of winning a confrontation," he sneered.
