Chapter 24
BASH
The wound in Darling’s chest is already scabbed over, the blood no longer running free. She’s lying in our bed, her breathing pattern returned to normal, her heart thumping at an easy pace beneath her ribs.
The shadow is doing what it needs to do, healing her as she rests.
We leave her in the soothing darkness of the bedroom, the door cracked open, and gather in the living room.
Hansel is here. He’s sitting in one of the chairs by the front windows, the curtains drawn closed behind him. He looks twenty years older than us with his flecked gray hair and beard, and the fine wrinkles around his eyes.
I honestly don’t know how old he is. He could be as ancient as Peter Pan.
“Tell us everything.” Pan is looming in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. There’s still blood splattered across his shirt and a few speckles on his jaw. I can’t tell if it’s Witch Killer blood or Darling’s. She lost so much, I bet she’ll sleep for a day.
“Do you have something to drink?” Hansel asks.
Pan nods at Kas and me. When we were banished fae princes, we were happy to be his lackeys but we are kings now. Sometimes I think he forgets that.
When neither Kas nor I move, Vane makes an annoyed tick in his throat and fetches the bottle of whisky from the kitchen. He pours a round of five, making a mess of it on the sideboard.
“Thank you,” Hansel tells him when Vane hands over the drink. “You’re the jabberwocky, aren’t you?”
Vane knocks back his shot and breathes through the burn. “Yep.”
“But the Shadow…”
“If you want to know if I still have to drink blood, the answer is no. But I never forget how to use sharp teeth.” He smiles. Hansel frowns.
“Vane,” Pan says, a warning.
Vane sets his glass down and hands us ours, then drops onto the other end of the sofa.
“Start talking,” Pan says.
Hansel takes a sip of the whisky. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about you start by explaining how you, a famous Witch Killer, are the father of Winnie Darling.”
“We found out about the Myth Maker power being passed down through the Darling line many years ago. It took us a while to confirm the story. None of the Darling women displayed any power, nor the knowledge of having it. I went to Merry Darling to verify it on my own.” He takes another sip, his gaze going unfocused.
“I didn’t make contact with her, expecting to hunt her.
I thought surely it was a mistake. She was a college student already, having graduated high school early.
Her parents were dead. She spent her days in class and her nights in the library.
I pretended to be a student as well. I was much younger then. Or…at least I looked younger.”
He inhales, dwelling on whatever memories he’s riffling through.
“She was so full of life, so eager for more. She told me she had dreams of being an art historian, but whenever she talked about it, I could tell something immediately pulled her back, as if her dreams were always just out of her reach.” He looks over at Pan.
“She knew you were coming for her. She always knew. So I made her a ward.”
This is the part we never talk about. The fact Pan couldn’t find Merry when he first went looking for her. Most of the Darlings, he takes on their 18th birthday, maybe a few days later depending on how hard he has to look.
But not Merry, it took him much longer. We always thought it was because his power was waning.
Hansel goes on. “It was the first time I had ever gone against everything I had believed in. I didn’t use magic. I hunted it. But I wanted to help her. I wanted to keep her from you.”
“So you could keep her for yourself. Is that it?”
“I wasn’t…” Hansel sighs. “We were just friends at that point. I wasn’t even aware I was falling in love with her until I was.” He looks at Pan again. “Maybe you understand that.”
Yes, I think Peter Pan does. We don’t fuck the Darlings. That was always our rule. But Winnie Darling made him break it. Pan never stood a chance standing toe to toe with her.
“But you found her after all. Didn’t you? You took her and you broke her.”
“I didn’t break her. Tilly broke her.”
“Same fucking thing,” Hansel says.
“Did you come to a conclusion about the Myth Maker power?” I ask, trying to get them back on track. I can feel the tension simmering between them.
“Yes,” Hansel answers. “Merry didn’t realize it, but she had the ability to bend people to her will.
Not that she ever did it out of spite. It was just innocent little things.
Like getting an extra hour at the computer lab.
Or talking her way into an A when she should have gotten a C.
” He laughs to himself and smooths over his beard.
“Or talking me into diner food at two in the morning.”
“You knew she was using power on you?” Kas asks.
“It wasn’t like I had no free will. I had trained myself on how to withstand a hundred different types of magic, a thousand different spells. I let her walk me into whatever midnight adventure she wanted. Happily.”
“Did you know she was pregnant?” Vane asks.
Hansel shakes his head and tips back the rest of the whisky.
“I didn’t know it when you took her.” This barb is aimed at Pan.
“I didn’t find out till much later and by then, the Order was pressing for a conclusion.
I knew I couldn’t stay. I told them the reports were baseless, and I told Merry I had to leave for work and that I would not be back. ”
“How did they find out?” Pan asks. “Why are they hunting Merry and Winnie now?”
Hansel scratches at his beard. “My sister. She’s been hunting the Myth Makers. She came across the information on a hunt.”
“And what did she have to say about it?” Vane asks.
Hansel set the empty glass aside and rocks forward, his elbows on his knees. “That my daughter is a disgrace, a great dishonor to the Order, and that she would do everything in her power to undo my mistakes.”