Page 20 of Lost Girl

Such kind brown eyes.

That’s the first thing I notice.

The tux is second, then the body encased in said tux, and lastly, that smile. It’s a small one, soft, yet still lethal.

I know, all the things I shouldn’t be observing, but I can’t help it. He’s handsome, and I haven’t seen a friendly face in how many days now?

Is he really friendly, though?

He looks like it. Something tells me I can trust him, too. Don’t know why—I haven’t a clue who he is.

Is he one ofthem? My knowledge on immortals doesn’t extend very far, but he doesn’t look like one of their kind. Then again, he’s as good looking as they all seem to be, so perhaps he is.

I can’t seem to form words. I want to, I just can’t. So I nod instead, hoping whatever he sees reflected within my eyes will tell him some of what he needs to know.

The man tips his dark head in understanding, his bowed lips setting in a grim line as he continues regarding me. “I know you have to be scared, and I get it. But we don’t have a lot of time, Miss. If I don’t make my way back out there within the next five minutes, my sister will tear that party upside down in search of me. Or even worse yet, Hook will. I’ve already been gone long enough. That said, I need you to talk to me, tell me anything—what your name is, where you came from, how you got—”

“W-Wendy,” I grate, my voice trembling. “My name i-is Wendy. Wendy Darlington.”

I guess him reminding me of how limited time really is finally springs something free. That and he might truly be my only way out of here.

“Wendy Darlington,” he repeats huskily, rubbing his stubble-dusted jaw. “It’s nice to meet you, Wendy. I’m Tavi.”

Tavi.What a different type of name.

“Tavi, what?” I blurt.

Not that it matters. I’m just intrigued, that’s all.

Tavi flashes me what looks like a knowing smirk. “Lobo.”

Lobo.The way he said it sounds so exotic. His tongue caressed the L so luxuriously, kind of like Hispanics when they roll those decadent R’s.

“That’s so different,” I muse aloud, prompting him to chuckle.

“It’s an acronym, really.”

“An acronym? For what?”

“Lost Boy.”

My head jerks back a fraction. “Lost Boy?”

Tavi nods. “It’s what this island refers the pack as, but that’s irrelevant right now. How did you get here?”

Right.

We’re not speed dating.

“Tinksley and Hook,” I answer, all the while slightly embarrassed for asking so many questions.

“So itwasthem,” he scoffs, shaking his dark head. “And what do they want with you?”

“Answers.”

“Answers? About?”

“Peter.”

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