Page 149 of Losing Wendy

So I, weak little coward that I am, rush into the fray.

Peter is surrounded,pirates flanking him on all sides. While he keeps partially to his fleshly form, shadows whip from Peter’s hands, strangling the pirates as they advance, but there are too many of them.

Too many of them for Peter to focus on the captain. Whose dagger is reared back, ready to soar.

I’m not sure what my plan is; I don’t even have Peter’s dagger at my side. But I know my one bargaining chip.

The captain wants me.

I have no idea what for, but nothing else matters at this moment except making sure the captain’s glinting knife gets nowhere near Peter.

“Stop,” I scream.

As if my words are infused with magic, Captain Astor complies, his fingers closing around the hilt of the blade just before it leaves his fingertips. For a moment, I’m stunned he obeyed, but quick as a flame to a dry wick, the captain pivots, lunging for me.

The world around me shifts, and again the sharp blade finds my throat.

Peter stops in his tracks. It’s like watching smoke freeze. “Don’t touch her.”

“Oh, it’s a little too late for that,” says the captain, brushing the place on my neck where my Mating Mark ripples, the same patch of skin he stroked the night of the masquerade ball, causing my breath to hitch. “Should have come for her a tad earlier, if that’s what was important to you.”

Peter glances at the crew, though none of them advance. They won’t until their captain wills it.

“The rest stay in that monstrosity of a tree,” Captain Astor says,nodding toward the Den. “From what Darling here tells me, none of you should have any issues getting in.”

My stomach plummets. I don’t even remember telling the captain where the Lost Boys stay. What the reaping tree requires of each of us. How much information did he siphon out of me when I thought I was the one interrogating him?

“Please, just let them go,” I whisper. “I’ll come with you. Just don’t hurt any of them.”

“I’m getting a little weary of you saying that, Darling,” says the captain, whispering in my ear. “Come now, come up with something a bit more clever. Or at least with a little more fight in you.”

Peter holds out a hand, warily. “What do you want?”

“Drop the dagger and we’ll talk.”

Peter glances toward me, swiftly, then slowly kneels, placing his dagger in the sand.

It should fill me with panic, seeing Peter in a state of surrender, but the part of me that watched my parents slay themselves by their own hands is filled with relief.

“And put those hideous tendrils away while you’re at it.”

Annoyance flashes across Peter’s face, but he does as he’s told, his shadows slinking back into his wings.

“Now then,” says the captain. “I want you to give her to me.”

Peter cranes his neck to the side, then opens his mouth carefully. “From over here, it looks like you already have her.”

“Only because I took her from you,” says the captain. “But I’m afraid that’s not going to be enough.”

Peter breathes out sharply. “You know I won’t do that.” Then, as if regaining his composure, putting up that wall of casual charm, Peter flashes the captain a practiced grin. “I’m selfish with my things, Captain. I suppose it’s an only child thing.”

At that, the blade in the captain’s hand jerks, nicking my neck. I let out a gasp as pain ripples through me, but the captain draws the knife away from my throat quickly, before it can do any more damage.

“Careful with the jokes, Peter,” the captain says, voice warbling. “I’m not in the mood.”

Fear glances off of Peter’s form, and I wonder then if he’ll give himself over to the shadows. If that would make him fast enough to break through the captain’s grip before he can slit my throat. If he would be able to control himself around me after it was done.

I wait for the carnage.

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