Page 3 of Devour the Dark

Not that it would stop him.

Doors mean nothing to monsters.

CHAPTER TWO

ASHA

Wendy and Hookare arguing in hushed but heated voices.

Ever since Hook discovered the Crocodile devouring one of his men, we’ve been whispering.

We’re all afraid of waking the Crocodile.

But Hook’s men, they’re whispering about a mutiny. They want to throw the Crocodile overboard.

I think Hook would consider tossing hismenoverboard if he didn’t need them to feed the Crocodile.

“Peter Pan was very clear about it,” Hook is telling Wendy. “I’m not allowed on Neverland soil.”

“Fuck Peter Pan,” Wendy says, her hands on her hips. I’ve seen her like this many times before. Determined, a little stubborn, maybe a little blinded by her desperation.

I’ve also heard that name a hundred times.

Sometimes she would mutter it like a curse, other times she would utter it like a cry.

Peter Pan. Peter Pan.

I can’t tell if we should be more afraid of the Crocodile or Pan. Maybe they are equally dangerous.

“You are out of your mind!” Hook huffs out a sigh and turns away. He bows his head. Beyond him, through the windows ofthe starboard dining room, land is rising up on the horizon, the sun setting behind it, painting its peaks and valleys in swashes of orange.

Neverland.

Hook and the Crocodile are not allowed on Neverland soil, as decreed by Peter Pan. And Hook won’t allow Wendy to go, even though she’s trying hard to convince him otherwise.

He seems to have forgotten she’s a queen. She seems to have forgotten, too. I’m not quite sure why she’s taking his orders, but I’m not one to get in the middle of a relationship I have no business being in the middle of.

I sharpen my blade as they continue arguing.

I like to keep my mind busy, but absent intellectual pursuits, keeping my hands busy is the next best thing.

The blade scrapes against the whetstone.

I like the sound of steel against stone. It scratches a primal itch deep down in my brain.

As my mother liked to tell it, I came out of the womb with sharp edges. “They could hear my screams in every corner of the Imperial Palace.” She would smile, not fond of the pain but the pride. She would quickly add, “Never let anyone dull your edges. The world will never be your blade. You must be your own.”

Thinking of my mother makes my head pound and my chest ache.

I have put my past behind me, but sometimes the rage boils up, catching me off guard.

The blade scrapes harder, louder.

Hook downs a glass of something amber in color.

Neverland grows nearer.

Wendy crosses her arms over her chest. “Then tell me, James, what do you propose we do? Roc said he needed Vane. Vane is on Neverland and?—”

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