Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“Don’t go, Peter,” Wendy entreated, “I know such lots of stories.”
The man ahead of me reaches over his head, grabs his shirt, and strips it off. The others begin to follow suit.
“Whoa!” I dig in my heels and whirl on Peter. “No way.”
“You aren’t tired?” He reaches up and grabs his own loose tunic, then pulls it off. His body is golden. Lean and muscled.
I step back but bump into Curly. “I’m not sleeping with you.
” Realization hits me. “Is that what you mean by ‘tell us a story’?” My throat constricts.
“Absolutely not!” It comes out as a squeak.
I can’t believe I’ve fallen for this. What the hell was I thinking?
I should be trying to escape, not making nice with the idiots who play tea party and act like it’s perfectly normal to kidnap a woman.
Peter stares down at me, his mouth twisted in a perplexed line. “Stories are the same as sleep to you? What does that mean?” He looks over my head at another man, the only one in glasses. “Nibs, is that something new?”
“Couldn’t say.” Nibs strides up, his broad, hairy chest blocking my view of anything else. “You’re the only one who’s been to the mainland lately.”
“I’ve never heard that.” Peter taps a finger on his chin.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I press my palms to my cheeks. “Like, literally, I have no idea what you’re even saying. What mainland? This island isn’t even real.”
Peter opens his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off.
“Is ‘tell us a story’ a euphemism for something else? For … for sex?” I ask in my boldest voice, trying to hide the quaver of fear underlying it.
“Because I’m absolutely not doing that. Take me home.
Whatever train you want to run, you’ll have to do it with someone els—”
“I had a train set,” Nibs says thoughtfully.
Peter’s gaze darkens. “Nibs—”
“It was painted bright colors. Wood, I think it was.” His eyes take on a far-away look.
“It couldn’t run by itself, of course. I had to push it around the track.
My father used to play with it, too. We’d pretend he was the conductor.
I was always the caboose. But sometimes we’d play, and I’d make the ‘chugga chugga’ sound, and it would make me cough so hard it hurt. My mother—”
“That’s enough,” Peter says sharply.
Nibs blinks slowly a few times, then runs a shaking hand through his dark hair. “What was I saying?”
“Nonsense. Just nonsense.” Peter claps him on the shoulder.
“Oh.” Nibs gives an uncertain laugh as the other men shift on their feet, some whispering to each other. “Sorry.”
“No harm, Nibs. Now, all of us to bed. But I’ll need to talk to Moira for a moment.”
The men obey him without question, filing away through the cavern until they disappear into yet another chamber.
I swallow hard. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on. I just want to go home.”
He sighs. “You are home, Moira. This is where you’ll stay. It’s to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what? Bad hot dogs from horny frat brothers? I can handle that myself.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “The pirates.”
I remember the ship I saw out on the water, the dark wood shining in the dappled moonlight.
But then I shake myself inwardly. “That doesn’t make sense.
I’m not in danger from pirates, especially when I go to a school that’s at least 300 miles from the nearest ocean.
I don’t know you or what you’re talking about, all right? ”
“You don’t know about Wendy, then?” He lifts a brow, his brown eyes piercing right through me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Wendy is my great-great-grandmother. So, no, I didn’t know her personally.”
“But you know her story?”
I shrug noncommittally. “I know a family legend. Which is probably why I’m stuck in this weird-as-all-hell dream.
The family legend, plus the bad hotdog, plus too much work, and boom, I’m in Neverland with a grown-up Peter Pan and some Lost Boys who look like they’ve been living in their moms’ basements for way too long. ”
He smirks and steps toward me. “So you do know about Wendy.”
I’m suddenly very aware that I’m alone in a cave with a half-naked man who’s easily a foot taller than me.
Still, I hold my ground. “I know she spun some yarn about flying to Neverland with a perpetual boy named Peter Pan. She met a bunch of other boys, pretended to be their mother, and eventually had to fight for her life with Captain Hook.”
His face sours at the mention. “That’s all correct. Wendy came when she was a child. We had such good times. And then, after that, she came to do my spring cleaning every year until … Hmmm.” He looks up. “Until I don’t remember why.”
“Sexist much?” I mutter under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shrug and try another tack.
“If this isn’t a dream, and I’m really in Neverland, and you’re Peter Pan, then why are you old?
” I wince at my words. “I mean, you’re not old old.
You still look really—” I stop myself. “You’re not a boy, and neither are the Lost Boys.
That doesn’t track with my family legend.
Not to mention, I haven’t seen any fairies.
In Wendy’s story, fairies were everywhere. ”
“I can explain all that.”
“Then go right ahead. I’ve got time.” I glance around at the stone walls. “Nowhere to go, either.”
He grimaces. “Could you at least tell us a story first?”
I glare up at him. “I’m not having sex with—”
He steps forward and grips my upper arms, his touch warm and firm. “This isn’t about that, Moira.”
His scent fills my nose, and his wide chest is right in front of me, golden and chiseled. Something deep in my gut seems to twist, and I have to force my gaze back to his brown eyes, sparkling even in the dark. No, Wendy’s story definitely did not include this version of Peter Pan in it.
“Oh, well, good then.” I step back, away from his touch. “Because, like I said, no.”
He laughs a little. “To be honest, none of us even knew about any of that until we started aging.”
“But now you know about …” I’m not shy, but suddenly I am.
His pupils flare, his gaze on me with a steadiness that makes my knees go a little weak. “About sex?” He glances at my mouth. “I don’t accept acorns and thimbles when what I really want is a kiss, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The way he says ‘kiss’ is utterly obscene, filthy enough to need a good scrubbing with scalding hot water. So, naturally, it makes some inner part of me melt into a puddle while the rational part of me scolds the crap out of it.
His gaze returns to my lips for a moment. “How about you?”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “My love life is none of your business.” A weak retort, but it’s all I have.
“Mmm.” He gives me a long look. “It’s a different feeling, isn’t it?
Being that close to someone. That intimate.
I never intended to know what it was like.
I wanted to be a child forever. That was my heart’s only dream, but the island had other ideas.
Now, everything’s different. I sometimes catch my boys making bargains with Tink in exchange for fairy dust so they can fly to the mainland in search of …
” He makes a hmmm noise, clearly trying to choose the right word. He finally settles on “company.”
“Tinker Bell, the fairy? Where is she?”
He cuts his eyes to the side. “She’s around.”
Okay, so there are fairies. But that still doesn’t explain why they aren’t boys anymore.
“Take me home. If fairy dust makes you fly.” I keep myself from rolling my eyes at the absurdity of my statement, though, if I’m being fair, he already showed me it’s true. He can fly. “Then fly me back to my dorm room.”
“Can’t do that.” He shakes his head.
I throw my hands up. “Why not?”
“It’s not safe. I told you, the pirates will come for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a Darling.” He moves closer again, his presence like a touch. “Captain Hook wants you dead, Moira. He’ll stop at nothing until you are.”
A trickle of ice water seems to lick down my spine. “What, why?”
“He wants to rule Neverland. That includes destroying me, the Lost Boys, and anyone we’ve ever cared about.”
I shake my head. “You’ve never cared about me. See? Problem solved.”
“You’re part of Wendy’s line. Hook knows that. He knows you exist. He wants to snuff you out with the rest of us.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“To gain control of Neverland.” He says it as if it’s perfectly obvious. “He’s a pirate seeking treasure, and the island is the greatest treasure of them all. He’ll destroy every last living creature here if it means he gets what he wants.”
“Okay, so why did you bring me right to him? Take me back.”
“I can’t.” Now he’s the one crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s found out about you somehow. He already sent some of his pirates to find you.”
I rub my temples. “I’m pretty sure I’d notice if a guy in a tricorn singing a sea-shanty came at me with a blunderbuss or something. That hasn’t happened. Besides, people are going to notice I’m missing. You can’t keep me here.”
“Time works differently in Neverland. Besides, who will notice?” Peter asks.
I open my mouth, close it, open it again, snap it closed.
Damn. My mom’s dead, and that’s a whole barrel of bad I don’t want to get into.
Ever. My father’s moved on with someone half his age and has made it clear I’m not part of their new love story.
Yuck. I’m an introvert to a fault and haven’t made any real connections in college other than classmates and teaching assistants.
I have a few friends from high school, but we’re to the point where we text every few months.
I don’t talk to anyone on the regular except my professors.
That’s it. God, I seem so pathetic when I actually think it through.
No one will miss me. No one will be looking for me on the quad or at the caf.
No one is breathlessly waiting on a text from me. I’m alone.
Even so, I muster an answer. “Professors will notice. My, um, my classmates will see I’m missing.”
“I don’t know, Moira.” He doesn’t break his gaze from mine. “I watched you for a while, trying to keep you safe from the pirates. I didn’t see anyone who …” His implication lingers in the air—that he knows just how lonely my life is.
“You don’t know me, all right? So don’t give me that look. People will notice if I don’t show up at class.” But how long will it take before they come looking? Days? A week? A shiver courses down my spine.
“You’re tired.” He steps even closer, his body heat warming me in the suddenly-chilly cave. “Let’s go to bed.”
I shoot him a suspicious look.
He smirks, amusement in his gaze. “Just sleep. That’s all. I promise.” The smirk grows. “Unless you want more.”
“Get over yourself.” I stand my ground and ignore the slight thrill that twists low in my belly at his implication. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Just sleep, Moira. That’s all. Please? You need rest from the journey and your run through the woods. Trust me, in time, I’ll answer your questions.”
“I have too many.” All of this is too heavy for me to struggle through.
My family stories are real? That’s only the beginning of whatever mess I’ve found myself in.
I don’t see any way out but through. I eye him, my suspicion out in the open.
“Once again, I’m going to have to take your words at face value even if I don’t want to.
Even so, that still leaves a huge problem. How do we keep Hook from killing me?”
“Easy.” He takes my arm and leads me through the cave. “We kill him first.”