“Yes, I told Jas,” Smee says. “He went after her and I chose to stay.”
She and I both know there’s more to that story, but I don’t really give a fuck what petty squabbles they have going on between them. I just need to know how it affects me. And there is only one part of that statement that has any bearing on my future.
He went after her.
Wendy Darling.
If he finds her first, I will strip the flesh from his bones.
I sling the glass back and drink down the liquor. The burn of the alcohol helps hold the spark of anger at bay. The Captain is gone and now I need a plan. No sense losing my goddamn mind like a stupid little shit.
“How long ago?” I ask Smee.
She cocks out a hip, arms still crossed. “Tell me what you’d do to him if you found him first?”
“Does it really matter if I tell you the truth or a lie? I don’t know if you’d believe either.”
“I’ll know.”
“All right.” I pour another shot and turn around to face her. “The truth is, I’m not sure yet. Circumstance changes the answer. But I’ll probably stab him just for fun.”
Smee’s expression does not change for several long seconds. I love this woman’s ability to give nothing away. I’ve never used the word stony to describe a woman, but Smee could be a marble statue if she just put a little more effort into it.
After a beat, she approaches and takes the glass from my hand and sets it down on the bar, even though I’ve barely had my fill.
“You want to know what I think about you?” she asks.
“Not particularly.”
“I think that you care very little for most things.”
I gaze down at her, trying to gauge her angle. I sense pity, and pity I do not like.
“I think you care very little,” she goes on, “because you think that keeps you safe. If you care for very little, you have very little to lose.”
A knot forms between my shoulder blades, making me shift again.
“But you know what?” Smee says. “Caring for so little means that when you actually do care, losing it has a much higher cost.”
The knot tightens until I can feel it in my chest. Instinct is trying to get me to dance out of her reach, but I will show no weakness to a pirate such as Smee.
“So go on,” she says. “Threaten Jas’s life to the one person who nearly killed the one thing you actually do care about.”
We stare at one another for several long seconds. The house is silent, and we are silent, but our silence says a great many things.
“I like you, Smee,” I tell her. “But you threaten my brother again and it’ll be the last. I’m no artist, but I’m an expert at violence and I will paint a fucking masterpiece with your blood.” I smile and pick up the glass, emptying the drink into my mouth, keeping my gaze on her the entire time.
When I return the glass to the bar top, it clunks loudly. Smee’s right eye flinches, but it’s the only tell she’s got.
“Do us both a favor and leave Vane out of it.”
“Do us both a favor and don’t stab Jas.”
“I don’t know why you care. He abandoned you.”
“I don’t know why you care about a Darling girl who you haven’t seen in years and years and years.”
The knot in my chest tightens, crowding out my heart.
“Because I’m a possessive prick,” I tell her. “I don’t even have to like the thing. Or the girl, as the case may be. What’s mine is mine, and once it’s mine, it cannot be someone else’s.”
“It’s almost sad, this story you’re telling yourself,” she says. “And I pity Wendy Darling for it.”
Dark clouds roll in, blotting out the sun. The air turns frigid. An odd thing, for Neverland.
Smee glances at the shift in weather and then quickly back at me. “Time for you to go, Crocodile. Have fun on your quest for destroying everything you touch. When you’re done, I suspect you’ll be standing on nothing but a pile of bones and ash. I hope it’s worth it.” She tips her head toward the door, indicating my dismissal.
“Do you know where she is?” I keep my voice level, give nothing away.
“So you can destroy her too?”
I pull in a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “Would you like a play by play? Do you want to know where I’ll stick my cock, how I’ll make her scream my name? Destroying something can feel good, Smee. I promise you that.”
“You are hopeless,” she says.
“Aren’t we all in this godforsaken island chain?” I may be a little drunk now. Sometimes after a gorging, my insides don’t work quite the same way. Liquor can go straight to my head. I’m not usually so pessimistic.
Smee sighs. “I lost track of Wendy Darling a long time ago. Jas has no more information than you do.” She walks back to the door and pulls it open. There’s dirt crusted on the wood frame, the door handle rubbed clean of its gold plating. Why would the Captain let it go when he is so fucking anal about appearances?
Because he never came in and out this door, I realize. This door was for the pirates, the degenerates. Well played, Smee.
But if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to be whatever someone wants me to be long enough to let their guard down.
And then I eat them.
“Goodbye, Smee.”
Her farewell is the hard slam of the door in my face.
I start off down the path.
Time for plan B.
3
WINNIE
I wake freezing. Since coming to Neverland, it’s been a warm, tropical place. Never cold like this.
I can sense the heat of the boys around me. Vane, the solid line of him at my back, his arm tight across my middle. Bash in front of me, my legs tangled with his. Kas at the other end of the bed, his hand locked around my ankle.
And yet…goosebumps.
I open my eyes to the early morning light, the first rays of sunshine spilling through the open windows of my bedroom.
Except the light is diluted, more gray than orange.
And…is that falling snow?
I sit up on my elbow. Vane groans behind me. Bash reaches out for me. “Too early, Darling,” he mumbles. “Come back to bed.”
“Does it ever snow in Neverland?” I ask.
Thick flakes swirl in the light and when the wind shifts, they spill into the room through the open window, melting into tiny puddles on the floor.
Bash’s dark brow furrows. “Never.”
“Well, it’s snowing. Right now.”
His eyes pop open. His frown deepens as he looks up at me, the sleep fading from his gaze.
Then he darts upright and checks the window. “The fuck?”
“What’s going on?” Kas asks, his voice muzzy with sleep.
Pressure builds in my chest. It takes me a second to recognize that old feeling of dread. I grew up full of it. It haunted me like a ghost, stretching across blank walls, hiding in dark corners. Panic sets in before I can analyze where it’s all coming from, why it’s here.
I’m a child again, hiding from boogeymen, frightened for what the future will bring, terrified of madness.
My breathing quickens.
Vane sits up behind me, presses the warmth of his chest against me. “You’re all right, Win.” His voice is dark and heavy at my ear and my stomach pinwheels.