When they see us coming, the guitar lets out a twang, then goes quiet as they all rise and bow their heads as we pass.
The Darling’s pace falters.
“Keep up,” Vane warns her and gives her a shove.
She walks.
I take one last hit from the cigarette, then flick it into a nearby pot. It’s full of rainwater from yesterday’s storm and the ember sizzles.
The patio breaks to hard packed earth where a root-covered path winds through the palm trees and large auris plants. Firecracker flowers and bright hibiscus blooms hang over the path.
The Darling plucks a firecracker from its stem and rolls the petals between her fingers, then smells the oils left behind.
Down the hill, the ocean laps against the shoreline. The gulls have caught a headwind and are hovering in flight, their wings tipped in the silver light of the nearly full moon.
That’s another thing I miss—flying.
We go down to the beach, the white sand squeaking beneath our steps.
The wind is coming out of the north and I swear I can smell the filth of pirates.
“Look around you, Darling,” I say.
She’s caught between me and Vane, her arms folded over her chest.
She looks down the shoreline, south, then north. My territory is the entire south end of the island, from the point of Silver Cove to the craggy outline of Marooner’s Rock. Hook’s territory is on the other side, on the north end of the island, with Tilly’s territory like a pie wedge between us.
“This is Neverland,” I tell the Darling. “This place does not exist in your world.”
She takes in a breath, her shoulders rising before quickly deflating again.
“You can swim for miles in any direction and you’ll get nowhere, especially not home.”
The gulls cry out again, then turn into the wind and head south. The waves pick up as the tide rises.
“There is no escape. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
She drags her tongue over her lips.
Vane goes rigid beside me.
“What am I doing here?” she asks and takes a step forward. “Why do you take the Darlings?”
She’s rail thin, but full of fire.
“How long before I can go home?”
“Is that what you want?” I ask her. “To go home?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Answer the question.”
“I don’t want to be held captive.” Her voice is rising and Vane’s patience is thinning. “I can’t help you with whatever it is you want,” she says and drops her arms at her sides, hands curling into fists. “So you’re wasting your time and…my mother…she needs me.”
“Does she?”
“Yes!”
“This one is going to be a handful,” Vane says, his voice rumbling in the back of his throat.
“I can’t help you, so take me home and—” She cuts herself off, her eyes going wide.
The sharp bite of sulfur blooms on my tongue.
“Vane,” I say.
The Darling backpedals, her heart rate spiking.
“Vane!”
She turns around and runs.
I grab Vane by the shoulders and give him a shake. Both his eyes are black and the blackness of the shadow is filling his veins, surging around his eyes like a writhing mask.
“You didn’t tell me it was this bad.”
He growls and yanks out of my grip. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
His attention zeroes in on the running Darling. Her feet pound at the sand, her sweater flapping behind her.
“Now I have to go chase her,” I say. “Well done.”
“No need. I’ll chase her.”
I grab him again before he gets away from me and yank him close. “If you catch her, there won’t be anything left. And she is our last fucking chance.”
The shade has turned his black hair white, turned his incisors to fangs.
Vane has never had a handle on his shadow, no matter how much he tries to convince himself, and me, otherwise. He’s got his own demons to hunt.
“Go on,” I tell him again.
He grits his teeth, lets out a long, disappointed growl.
He watches her another second before turning away and as he walks back up the beach, his hair fades to black again.
I’m running out of time, but I think Vane is too.
For fuck’s sake. I don’t have the patience for this.
The Darling is halfway down the beach now, the moonlight painting her in strokes of silver and blue.
I might not be able to fly, but I can still run, and the Darling never stood a chance.