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Their Vicious Darling (Vicious Lost Boys #3)(42)

Author:Nikki St. Crowe

They all dote on me when we’re back together.

Kas gets me clean clothes and a warm sweater. Bash whips up a batch of cloudberry pancakes and then drizzles the stack with fresh maple syrup. I’m stuffing my face with the deliciousness when Vane pours me a drink, but only a shot worth, because apparently it’s for “my own good.”

Pan makes me a cup of fresh coffee to chase down the alcohol.

It’s Pan who fills the twins in on what we’ve discovered, but I notice he leaves out the part about where I supposedly hurt Vane’s brother.

I’m not even going to contemplate having killed him.

There’s no way.

Right?

“So Winnie Darling has the Neverland Death Shadow.” Bash beams at me. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

“No we’re not proud of her,” Vane argues. “The fucking thing will kill her if we don’t get it out.”

“It will?” I say, the hot mug of coffee in my hands, warming me up. “It doesn’t feel like it would.”

“You’ve been ill since we returned home,” Pan points out. “So it’s not out of the question that it’ll eventually cause you irreparable harm.”

And then it dawns on me…

“Smee knew,” I say.

The boys all look at me.

“She said something about power and that you all were jackasses because you couldn’t see it when it was looking you right in the face. I’m paraphrasing,” I add with a smirk.

Pan snorts. “Of course she knew and kept it from me. Fucking Smee.”

“It’s not like she owes us anything,” Kas points out. “She’s not technically our ally and we did kidnap her once.”

Vane lights a cigarette and takes a long drag on it. After blowing out smoke, he adds, “It was certainly in her best interest to let the Dark Shadow surprise us.”

“So how do we get it out?” I ask and as soon as the question is out of my mouth, I can sense the shadow shaking its head.

Kas runs his fingers through his hair to tie it into a bun. “How did our mother take yours?” he asks Pan. “We were never told the story.”

Pan leans against the kitchen counter between Kas and Vane.

God they are gorgeous. Like marble and obsidian carved sharp enough to cut.

I would bleed for them any day.

In the next room, I catch the now familiar sound of wolf nails clicking on the hardwood floor and a second later, the wolf trots in.

“Where have you been?” Bash asks.

“He says he was hunting,” I answer.

“Well did he catch anything?” Kas tucks a few loose strands of hair behind his ear.

“Hare, I guess?”

“Good job, Balder.” Bash kneels in front of the wolf and gives him a scratch behind the ears.

The wolf practically groans with delight.

“Is Balder his name?” I ask.

Kas pulls himself up on the counter and grabs a handful of leftover berries. “We think so. We had a wolf once named Balder and he—”

The wolf yips and wags his tail.

“Wait,” Pan says, his eyes narrowing. “Didn’t your wolf end up in the lagoon?”

“He did.” Bash straightens and returns to his plate of pancakes, shoveling in a large bite, the muscle in his biceps twining like rope.

“The lagoon returned him?” Pan asks.

“I guess?” Kas pops another berry in his mouth and then takes one between his fingers and gestures for me to open up. I do, because I like any game, especially with Kas. He aims and then throws the berry and I catch it easily. It’s a plump, juicy one and it pops between my teeth.

Vane looks over at Pan. “What is it? I can sense your anxiety.”

“I don’t like the lagoon bringing things back to life, is all.” He pushes away from the counter and goes to the cabinet opposite the kitchen island and pulls out a bottle of scotch. It’s so old, the label is handwritten, the paper curling at the edges.

He pops out the cork and takes a drink straight from the bottle.

Vane’s frown deepens.

“So how do we remove the Death Shadow from our Darling?” Kas asks.

“Maybe the better question is, how did she get it?” Vane says.

They all look at me, even Peter Pan.

“I…well…”

All of my memories after the pirates in the treehouse are super muddied. But I distinctly remember Cherry asking me for help and then— Oh no.

“What is it?” Vane comes forward. “You have a look on your face.”

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