Page 57 of Losing Wendy

Peter actually blushes. “I doubt it was Tink’s intention to attack anyone this evening.”

“Then why?”

Oh.

Embarrassment needles me all over. I take it Tink had other plans when it came to visiting Peter’s chambers, and those likely didn’t include finding another woman in them.

My upbringing doesn’t allow me to speak so directly of these matters, so instead I say, “That explains trying to disfigure me, then.”

“Indeed. In the future, perhaps simply tell her the truth, and she’ll leave you alone.”

“What truth?”

“That you find me repulsive.”

There’s a hint of smugness lingering on Peter’s lips. The way the right side of his mouth lifts slightly more than the rest. It’s probably not for the best that I’m staring.

“I’ll have to try that next time. Though I imagine it would be more soothing to her if instead you told her you find me repulsive.”

“That’s different,” he says. “It wouldn’t work at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not the truth.”

Again, a shudder snakes through me. In relation to Peter, the sensation typically stems from fear. Somehow, fear doesn’t feel quite so unpleasant this time.

“How did you end up in Neverland?” I ask.

“Second star to the right.”

I frown. “No, I mean, why did you end up in Neverland? Why are the Lost Boys here, and why don’t they remember anything about their lives before?”

Peter blinks, then leans forward, propping himself on his elbows and knees. As he stares up at me through those thick copper eyelashes of his, my heart gives a lurch. “Because, Wendy Darling, don’t you think it’s more fun this way?”

A chill scatters up my arms, prickling gooseflesh bulging on my skin, but I won’t let him disarm me, so I ask, “Do you?”

Shutters snap into place over Peter’s expression, darkening it at the edges. There’s no anger in his expression, no hurt. Just gentlenumbness, a lack of feeling so close to my heart, I can practically taste it coming off of him.

“Of course I do. I don’t do anything unless it’s fun. That’s my secret.”

Something tells me it’s not.

CHAPTER 23

The boys must have heard about Tink’s attack, because when I return to my room after setting traps the next day, I find an assortment of gifts on my bed.

None of them left a note with their gifts, but they didn’t have to.

There’s a whittled wooden lock for my journal from Benjamin, along with a fresh quill pen from Freckles. Simon has gifted me another one of his shirts, which is probably the most practical of the gifts, since Tink shredded mine at the waist last night.

There’s also a palm-sized bag of crushed leaves—that one actually does have a note telling me it’s rushweed and can be used as a paralytic if necessary. As it also says,I told you this island was dangerous, I’m assuming that one came from Victor. He’s also left me a warning.Don’t soak the leaves. It’ll delay the effect. Unless you’re trying to poison someone and don’t want the effects to show up until later. But be careful—soaked, it causes breathing difficulties.

It’s a peculiar way to express affection for me, but I decide to take the gift in the manner it was intended.

John is livid, of course, that anyone would dare hurt me. I try to laugh it off and tell him it was only Peter’s suspicious ex-lover, jealous for no reason at all.

This doesn’t appear to comfort my brother.

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