Wicked as a Pixie (Daughters of Neverland Book 3)
Page 17
He tsks. “The poor pirate doesn’t even know. You’ve used his heart against him, choosing life over love. Clever, clever little bird.” He steps up chest to chest with me, looking down into my eyes. I wish I had my hat for the extra height, but I thought it useless at the end of the world. Instead, I have to crane my head back to look at him, his height and wide shoulders making him more intimidating, but I’m not scared of the Crocodile. I’ve never been scared of his teeth.
“Are we just going to stand here while you wax poetics and wait for Neverland to die around us or are we going to go find the door I’m the key to?” I deadpan, raising my brow.
It’s clear he’s thrown off by my non-reaction to his flirting, though he shouldn’t be. Since he began this attack, I’ve made it clear I have no interest in him and so have the others. Unfortunately, I think Wolfbane can’t comprehend that, his obsession getting in the way. As I stare into his green flashing eyes, I can tell he thinks I’ll come around, that hate can turn to love with enough of a bond, and he could be right, if I had a heart to give. My heart rests in the stars with my Star Captain. I can’t give it to Wolfbane now.
Grinning, Wolfbane holds out his hand between us, and even though everything in me tells me not to, even though it nearly kills me to do so, I unhook my hands and carefully slip my fingers against his. For a moment, I’m seeing the boy who tried to save me so long ago, the boy who died trying to do so, but the image disappears quickly, replaced by a man warped with hatred and obsession. I see someone who needs help but refuses it. If only he’d offered for everyone to escape, I might have seen him different. Instead, I steel my spine, keep all thoughts from my face, and push a message in my mind to Tink.
He’s taken the bait.
And then I let him lead me through the trees, his hand cold where it should be warm, but I can’t get the image of him out of my mind.
The boy who tried to save me died long ago, and in his place, stands a monster.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I smile. “She’s in,” I whisper, keeping my voice low, just in case the Crocodile can hear us at the distance we’re at. Our people crouch and sit behind us, on guard but trying to make as little noise as possible. The shaking and rumbling is working in our favor, helping to hide us in plain sight. We’re hardly a hundred yards from the clearing and he has no idea we’re here. Being downwind helps.
We wait a few minutes longer. The plan is to wait until Wendy crosses the border between sides before we start to move, that way she has time to find the door before we ever step foot onto the Dark Side. Hopefully, once she finds the door, opening it will be easier than we all think, but that’s probably too much to hope for.
“When she finds the door, she won’t know how to open it,” White murmurs, his ears twitching towards the sounds around us. “It took me a long time to actually figure out how mine worked, that the key wasn’t physical as much as the magic in my veins. Wendy’s may work differently.”
Though he doesn’t say it, I hear the words between his. Wendy may not be able to open the door at all, and all of this will have been for nothing. I refuse to think that, holding onto hope as best as I can, but I don’t have much experience with such things. Hope has always been dangerous in Neverland and a pointless emotion when things are the way they are.
My eyes trail over to Atlas where he stands, his armor still sparkling from our last coupling. When he catches me staring, a crooked smile tilts his lips. Even in the middle of a last-ditch effort to escape Neverland, he’s able to smile. I envy that ability.
“What sort of things could Wendy have to face?” I ask, because we have to know. If we make it there before she opens the door, we’ll have to help her figure it out while holding back the Lost and the Crocodile as best as we can. There aren’t as many of us as I’d like, even with our people. They’re strong, and there’s a whole group dedicated to keeping Aniya in their middle, Bear leading the way, but it doesn’t put me at ease.
“For Wendy, it could work with her blood, her magic, a feeling, anything really. We don’t know and I’ve seen many different variations. She’s gonna have to go off pure instinct.”
“Fucking fantastic,” Hook growls. “Do you ever have a direct answer?”
“This isn’t a science, Pirate,” White shoots back. “This is the best I can do. I described to her what mine felt like, that she would sense something like a tugging, but a door is just a door. We know Wendy is the key, but I can’t help her know how.”
Hook, his stress getting the better of him, steps up to White. “How about I show you what my instinct is telling me, Rabbit?”
“Do you ever stop being an asshole?” White snorts, not even tensing at the pirate walking up on him. “I should have skewered you when I had the chance all those years ago.”
“Be quiet,” I hiss, focusing internally as I see what Wendy sees. “She’s entering the Lost camp.”
We all take a deep breath, and then with a silent gesture, we all stand and start moving towards the border, determined to save as many as possible.
When Atlas’ hand threads with mine, I let him offer me some of his hope, some of his happy thoughts, and I inhale them deeply.
I will save him, I think to myself. Even if I never make it off this island, I will save the Berserker who looked at a monster and saw her shine.
Chapter Twenty-Six
WENDY DARLING
Wolfbane leads me slowly into the Lost camp, as if he doesn’t want to startle an animal, and it frustrates me. We’re running out of time. I can feel the earth beneath my feet growing less stable, and though the others are making their way here, ready to storm over the border the moment I find the door, I worry we won’t have time to save everyone.
I’ve never been to the Dark Side, not walking inside at least. Of course, I’ve seen it when sailing around the island from a distance, but I’ve never had the urge to move closer. Standing in the midst, I understand why now. The ground is black, as if made of lava stone rather than soil. The trees are a similar color, black and decaying, as if the entire Dark Side is scorched by fire. It’s hot, steam trailing from large cracks that makes sweat bead on the back of my neck.
I keep my breathing even and my fingers locked in the material of my shirt, so no one sees the shaking there. I ignore the pressure resting on my shoulders and instead take stock of everything I can.
The camp is crude, lean-tos made from sticks and large branches. A few of them have material there, but most are nothing more than something to stop the worst of the acid rain that falls on this part of the island. Everything about it speaks of an uncivilized camp, as if the Lost go backward in evolution rather than forward.
“Is everything to your liking?” Wolfbane asks, still holding his human form. Every so often, green scales flash along the arm that holds my hand. I pray to anyone listening that he can’t feel the shaking in my hand, that he’s so focused on everything else that he accounts it to the shaking of the earth. His hand is almost too warm in mine, but he never squeezes hard, never pricks me with his claws when they appear and disappear.
I raise my brow. “Is that a serious question?” I glance at him for a moment, looking away just as quickly. It’s harder to equate him to the villain when his eyes are so blue, it hurts.
“You’re right. We’re leaving this place just as quickly, so there’s really no need to get acquainted with the camp.” The ground jerks violently between us and I stumble at the sudden pitching of it, slamming forward into Wolfbane. I quickly shove away from him, but the grin that spreads on his face tells me I wasn’t quick enough. His chest rumbles and before I know what’s happening, I’m backed against a tree with his chest pressed against mine.
Hold strong, Sea Captain. Tink’s voice flickers through my mind as I scowl up at Wolfbane, as I challenge his flirtation. He thinks he owns you. I’ll show him how wrong he is.
“Come now, little bird,” he purrs, and I might have reacted if I wasn’t already hopelessly in love wi
th Hook. There’s something sensual about Wolfbane, something seductive, and though he’s the villain in my story, it’s always more difficult when the villain is good-looking. I should know. I watched my parents walk through life with smiles on their faces and people falling at their feet even though they were cruel and horrible people. “Won’t you give in?”
“Give in to what? Your obsession? This isn’t love, Wolfbane. It never was. When you love someone, you don’t force them to do your bidding. When you love someone, you don’t hurt them and the people you care about. When you love someone, you don’t leave everyone behind to die.” Angry that he thinks anything of what he’s doing is the same as love, I shove him backwards, but the Crocodile doesn’t move, his chest still pressed against me. I’m strong as a Daughter, but Wolfbane is ripe with the power of Neverland, and I suspect if he hadn’t gone the route he had, he’d have been a leader just as Hook is, but now, he’s filled with darkness.
Wolfbane’s hand snaps out to curl around my neck, squeezing just enough to cut off some of my air supply but not enough to do damage. I meet his eyes with violence, with a promise for pain.
“So full of fire,” he rasps, studying me closely. “I wonder if you taste as much like an inferno as what burns in your eyes.”
“Touch me and I’ll bite your face off,” I snarl, digging my fingers viciously into his sides, drawing blood, but he hardly seems to notice, and trapped between him and the black tree behind me, I can’t do much more than that.
His lips press against mine an instant later, and everything revolts against the feeling of his lips moving against my own. I certainly don’t expect his lips to still be soft. I don’t kiss him back, frozen in surprise at the sudden attack. His tongue brushes against the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, but I keep my lips clamped tight until his fingers squeeze my neck viciously, forcing them open just enough for his tongue to slip inside. I start to shove against him in earnest, kicking, screaming. I will not have my choices taken away, and if he thinks I’m going to stand here while he explores my body, he has another thing coming.
Waiting until his tongue is inside my mouth, I clamp down with sharp teeth. I consider it a success when he flinches hard against me, when his fingers clamp down on my neck hard enough to bruise, but I’m a Daughter, and if a little choking bothered me, I wouldn’t be with Hook.
Wolfbane pulls back and looks down at me with shining eyes, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. When he smiles, I know the bite did nothing but excite him, and when I feel the press of a hard length against my abdomen, I grimace in disgust.
“Don’t worry, little bird. We’ll have enough time to explore each other later.”
“Over your dead body,” I hiss. “Stick your tongue down my throat again,” I spit his blood at him, speckling his face, “and I’ll slice it from your throat.”
Wolfbane tilts his head, a smile on his face. “I never took you to be into such things, little bird, but I look forward to the fight.”
“You’re disgusting.” I scowl and shove him away from me. This time, he moves, his hand slipping from my sore neck enough for him to step back. “First chance I get, I’m going to stab you.”
He laughs, an honest to God amused laugh, and I stare at him. If only Wolfbane hadn’t chosen to be the villain, he would have been beautiful. He could have been someone great.
“How did you do it?” I ask suddenly, staring at him intently. This entire time, Wolfbane has been draining Neverland, killing it, while he grows powerful from it. We’ve never been able to figure out how, and Tink could never explain it. We’d determined he’d never been inside the crystal cave. So how is he taking the power from the land?
His laughter halts and the smile fades from his face. “You should find the door, little bird. We’re running out of time.”
“I’ll find the door when I’m damn well ready. Now, answer my question.” I narrow my eyes on him, daring him to push me on this. I can already feel a tugging at my chest, in a different direction, but I hold off on following it. White explained what it would feel like, and he wasn’t wrong, but I need this answer first.
Wolfbane stares at me for long seconds, even as large cracks snap through the air over the island, what I assume are the trees tumbling into the sea. “I never had to do anything.”
“How are you stealing the magic?” I growl, taking a step towards him.
“I’m not,” he shrugs.
“Bullshit! I can feel it coming from you in waves!”
“I’d like you to feel other things, little bird,” he purrs, but when he sees the look on my face, he sighs, dropping the flirtation for a moment. “I’m not stealing it. It’s being funneled inside me by the land itself, has been since I made the deal to become more beast than man.”
“How is that possible?”
“Another curse,” he grunts. “Another thing against me in this forsaken cruel bitch of a world. I don’t know how, but I seized the opportunity when it presented itself, if only so I can get away.”
For a moment, we stare at each other and something in my brain shifts about the Crocodile. “You know,” I murmur, “you don’t have to be the villain in our story, Wolfbane.”
“I’m already the villain, conveniently placed for all to see. Why not use it to my advantage?”
“So you want Tiger Lily to die? Aniya?” He flinches, actually flinches at my words, so I continue on. “You want your people to die? Old Mother? How about me?” I lift my chin. “Why even save me if you’re the villain?”
“I can’t fight fate, little bird. We all have our parts to play.”
“You’re right,” I whisper. “We all have parts to play, but you could be someone different, Wolfbane. I will never love you, not like you’re trying to force, but someone could. You’re throwing that all away.”
For a long moment, Wolfbane doesn’t speak, his eyes studying my face even as I throw words at him. When he does, I’m disappointed in him, as I’ve been since this all began. The boy who tried to save me from Peter’s clutches is nowhere to be found. All that’s left is a monster.
“You should find the door quickly. The ground is sinking.”
I grit my teeth and turn, but I don’t hesitate to throw my next words over my shoulder. “Karma is a bitch, Crocodile, and I can’t wait for you to bloody get yours.” Under my breath, I said, “Hopefully with my blade.”
I follow the tugging in my chest through the camp, towards the opposite end we’d been standing on. As we move, Michael and John step forward, their eyes riveted to the blood still splattered on my chin. When their eyes narrow and focus on Wolfbane, I almost pause, but a rough shove from the Crocodile at my back keeps me moving.
“Hello, big sister,” Michael murmurs, following my movements closely. When we walk past, they fall into step behind us, trailing us slowly. I try not to shiver at the feeling of having them behind me, but it’s difficult.
The tugging gets more insistent the further to the edges of camp we get. Wolfbane growls behind me. “Hurry it up, little bird.”
“Shut up,” I snap, pushing forward. I only stop when the tugging dulls, when something tells me I’m here. The only problem is, there’s nothing but more dead trees and scorched earth. There’s no door. I try waving my hand, thinking maybe if I think about it really hard, it’ll appear, but nothing happens. Putting my hands on my hips, I stare at the empty space where I know a door has to be and yet I don’t know how to make it appear.
Michael and John come to a stop beside me, their large horns catching on the light and sending small sparkles along the ground. For the first time, I realize there’s crystals embedded in the growths, whether by their hand or Neverland’s, I’m not sure. My eyes linger on them, on remembering how the phantom that looked like Michael not only helped me, but Tiger and March as well. I stare at Michael and he tilts his head.
“Do you know how to see the door?” I whisper, afraid to speak too loud for some reason.
The corner of his l
ips tilts up. “The right question, big sister. Blood will reveal all, blood will set it free.”
John shuffles at his side, but he doesn’t speak. Still my eyes flick to him. John seems less human than Michael does, and I wonder if it has to do with the phantom of Skull Rock.
“Did he make it to you?” I ask Michael. I don’t elaborate. If it was the soul of my little brother trapped on Skull Rock and it made it back to his body, he’ll understand what I mean. He doesn’t speak to answer, but the barest, barely perceivable nod is answer enough. I try not to let that fill me with a hope I can never bear, because I don’t know if John still has his soul, but it’s difficult to hold back the tears.
I turn away quickly and face the empty space, drawing my dagger from my side. Carefully, I prick my finger.
“More blood,” Michael murmurs.
I raise my arm and drag the knife up my forearm, cutting about three inches up, the blood welling and dripping immediately. I cringe at the pain but force my way through it. The other Lost send up howls of excitement, drawn to my blood like sharks, but sharp looks from Michael and John hold them back. The blood drips on the ground for three seconds before the wound is healed completely. There’s a nice puddle of red on the ground, shining in the low light.
When something shifts in my chest and the air begins to shimmer before me, I hold my breath, waiting to see exactly what will happen.
The door that comes into view, as if it’s always been there, is massive, stretching from the ground to as tall as the scorched trees, easily five times my height. It’s black, just like the rest of the Dark Side, just as scorched, but blood drips down the wood as if it bleeds. It’s a terrifying door, one I’m not sure I want to really be the key to, but I stare at it anyways. There’s a heat coming from it that makes my eyes burn. Out of curiosity, I grab the ring handle, my hand sizzling at the red hot of the metal, and pull, but nothing happens. Locked, just as we suspected.