Page 68 of The Last Lost Girl

The pirate licks his bottom lip like he does when he’s thinking. And if he’s thinking of having me ditch my shoes, that is not happening. The soles of my feet are tender and soft. They would be shredded to ribbons in this place, and I’d track a bloody breadcrumb trail all over the Neverwood.

His head swivels toward a gentle gurgle of water and he nods toward it. Hudson stops next to a small, muddy stream and kneels before me, cradling the back of my ankle with his hook.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. I almost lose my balance as I teeter on one leg, but I dig my fingers into his hair and tug. The motion wrenches his head back and exposes his throat to me, and my eyes rake down every inch of that glorious column. Wondering what it would feel like to glide my fingertips down it. What it would feel like to drag my lips down it.

Evergreen eyes wait for mine and the look in them is disquieting, like the moment a windstorm and fire collide and together, burn.

I watch his pupils swell. Watch his chest rise and fall. Watch him hook my wrist and slowly draw it away, my fingers unclenching but my thighs locking tight.

My knees feel strangely weak when he says my name, then instructs me to keep my balance.

“I’ll try,” I quietly tell him.

His fingers claw into thick, dark mud and he smears said mud over the bright red cloth on both of my shoes. I’m not even upset. If it helps me find Belle and not be seen by someone like Wraith, I’m all about the mud.

I would let Hudson coat me if necessary… And I’d likely enjoy it.

Clearing my throat and thoughts, I scan the forest for movement or any cute, meat-loving rabbit mice.

Hudson stands and surveys our surroundings. All I see is forest. Foliage. Verdant green and rich shades of brown and gray.

A breeze rattles the wide leaves of the plant beside me. Sunlight dapples the green and casts shadows from it…

My heart stammers. Near the beach, there were no shadows. I checked.

I pull a leaf from a nearby plant over to me and move my palm under it. The leaf definitely has a shadow. A perfect casting of its shape and essence. Everything around us does. Only we are without. “Hudson,” I whisper.

Could this be Belle’s doing and not Pan’s at all?

Are we getting close to her?

He acknowledges it with a muttered curse. “It has to be Pan.”

Or Belle.

I hold my breath as he bends his head and leans in, until I realize he needs to tell me something. “We need to be more careful. I don’t trust this. If you hear anything that worries you, tell me immediately.”

I nod and mouth, Okay.

I remember how Wraith thought he’d heard something in the jungle and waved it off, only for Hook to slide up behind him…

I did not want to end up like Wraith.

He smoothly pivots and begins to walk away. Across his back, a burlap sack hangs with enough supplies to last both of us until morning. When Smee handed them out, he didn’t have one for me, so I thought he’d just forgotten to pack an extra. Until he told me, “On Neverland, Hudson says you’ll be too busy proving your speed to worry about your strength.”

Hudson wasn’t exaggerating when he said that to Smee.

The captain’s stride is determined. I take two steps for each of his. Hudson knows the best places to start searching for Belle. While our goal is to find her before Pan, I need to get to her before Hudson learns what the shadows have done to her.

We only walk for a few minutes before the sole of my shoe gets stuck in the mud and makes a horrible and incredibly loud squelching noise. I wince and pause for a moment when Hudson stops to look around, shooting me a glare for good measure.

I flip him the middle finger which he narrows his eyes at, looking quizzical at the same time.

I don’t know how Hudson manages to move like the wind, but he does. He’s a whisper between glossy green leaves, and despite his stature, he barely leaves a trace.

Me, on the other hand? I track a distinct trail of footprints through the mud. Tip-toeing does not help – at all. And no amount of effort makes me the least bit stealthy. I am the antithesis of stealth, much to mine and Hudson’s chagrin.

The deeper we walk into Neverland’s maw, the more impressive her features become. It’s almost like she’s showing off.

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