Page 27 of Devour the Dark

Roc has been known to exaggerate a tale for the sake of the telling. But we don’t lie about shit as serious as the Seven Isles Secret Societies. We’re a part of one. We both know how serious this shit is.

“And the witch you devoured…”

“She told the Captain that a new myth rules the Council of Seven and that plans are in motion.”

“What kind of plans?”

“I don’t know and she won’t tell me.”

“Of course not.” I drop back into the chair. “This isn’t good.”

“Now you know why I need that hat. I think…” He trails off and glances out the window again when Wendy, Winnie, and Asha appear in the street. They spot us through the glass and make their way over.

Roc lowers his voice, quickens his words. “I think the witch plans to use me. Think about it. The Lornes are dead. The Remaldis are dead. The Darkland line of succession is broken. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Our mother’s line…”

“Yes.”

The door opens and the bell above rings out. Wendy is first through the door, followed by Winnie and Asha.

“Where’s James?” Wendy asks.

“Playing with a kitten,” Roc answers.

“What?” She sounds a little mystified by this news.

Roc looks back at me. We could always speak to each other without using words. We aren’t twins. There are three years between us. But monsters bound by blood can speak any language, even the language of silence.

I get up and turn to Winnie. “I’m going to Darkland.”

“You’re…what?” she says, a bit too quickly, a little high-pitched.

“Roc needs me.”

She looks between me and my brother, then over at Wendy.

“You’ll go too?” She asks her ancestor.

“Yes, of course. I’m not leaving Roc or James.”

Winnie levels her shoulders. The shadow’s power puffs up between us, sensing her digging in her heels. “Then I’m going.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“If I can’t, then Pan will.”

“He can’t stop me either.”

The shadow pulses like an energy field. It likes it when we fight because our fighting is always quickly followed by our fucking. And when we are together, no air, no space between us, the shadow is truly whole.

Wendy slips between us, her back to Winnie. It’s been ages since I saw her last, but nothing has changed about her. Same dark hair, same big, round eyes. When Pan brought her to Neverland, she was a docile creature. Frightened by a thunderstorm. Wary of a shadow. There is still some reluctance about her, but I can tell new steel circles her spine.

“I want her to come,” she tells me.

“You don’t get a say,” I remind her.

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