Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(19)

“Just so you understand . . . John, I want you to let go.”

John looked down. It was a fall of only about eight feet. “But . . .”

“It’ll be fine, John. You aren’t a coward, are you?”

John’s brow furrowed. “No.”

He let go of Michael’s hand and fell promptly into the pile of fluff. With a giggle, he rolled out of it.

“That was actually quite enjoyable.”

“My turn,” Michael crowed.

Peter moved over the bed. “All right, Michael, let go.”

Michael let go of Peter’s hand and tumbled down onto his soft bed.

“Again!” he shrieked, kicking his legs. “Again!”

“It’s Wendy’s turn.” Peter turned his green eyes onto her, and Wendy felt her heart thud fast against the inside wall of her chest.

“No, I couldn’t. What if Liza hears?”

“Liza can’t hear us,” he said, grinning. “Only children can hear the magic of Neverland. For all she knows, you are happily asleep in your beds.”

Wendy wrung her slender hands. “Well, I suppose.”

Peter flew over to her bed and landed gently beside her. She reached out her hand, and he shook his head, his eyes flashing mischievously in the lamplight.

“That’s no way to treat a possible lady of society, now, is it? Especially not for her first time flying.”

Michael giggled, tossing Giles in the air. “But that’s Wendy. She’s not a lady!”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” Peter grinned.

“If I’m not to hold your hand—”

With a laugh, Peter scooped Wendy up into his arms and floated quickly up in the air. With a shriek, Wendy wrapped her arms around his neck as they rose up, much faster than he had done with the boys. Peter’s strong arms held her curled up against him. He smelled like earth and berries, like adventure, and she found herself intoxicated with his warm, glistening skin. They rose up in the cool air of the nursery, so close that Wendy could have brushed it with her fingertips, seeing the view that only the creeping tiny creatures of the world saw, the view of the ceiling and its cobwebs, its dusty secrets. As Peter circled around the room with her, swooping up and down, Michael reaching for her hand and then laughing as she was pulled away from him, Wendy let the smile she was holding in burst free through her pink lips. Then she was laughing, and she knew without a doubt that she wanted to fly forever. As Peter neared the window, the glass panes burst open, and the curtains billowed out into the night sky. The damp air rushed in, and Wendy looked out at London before her, in all its gray stone glory.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Peter asked, his eyes on Wendy’s face. She looked out at the streetlights, at the winding streets, all so romantic.

“Yes. It is.” Her eyes flitted down the street to Whitfield’s. “Beautiful . . .” The window shrunk back as they flew backwards into the heart of the nursery.

“Then come with me.”

She turned to him, her face inches from his. “Come where?”

“To Neverland.” He turned and returned Wendy to the ground beside her bed. When his touch left her, Wendy felt her practical nature return. She laughed.

“We can’t go to Neverland. We live here, in London. With our parents.”

“Yes, but do your parents give you adventures?”

“No,” Michael said glumly, collapsing onto the rocking horse. “They don’t!”

“Can your parents fly?”

“Nope.”

John looked very interested. It made Wendy uneasy.

“They might not give us adventures, but they are our parents,” she protested weakly, but then in her mind she saw her father’s face as he told her she could never see Booth again, the way his eyes became hard and unforgiving. She saw her mother, who would faint at the very mention of him. And then she saw Booth in her mind, waiting for her in the rain, the disappointment in his eyes as he understood that she wasn’t brave, not like him. If she went to him now, would he reject her? The thought was almost too painful to bear. She suddenly felt very trapped, and a cold sweat broke out on her brow.

“We can’t just . . . leave.”

“Yes, you can!” Peter swooped down and trailed his fingers along the floor. “You can just visit Neverland, and then I’ll return you here, safe to your parents, whenever you want. They won’t even know you have gone. Time goes faster in Neverland. You’ll be back before they return from the Ball!”

“Do you promise?”

Peter’s eyes focused in on hers, turning that same shade of navy blue that she had seen before.

“Would I lie?”

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Wendy felt that same thrilling feeling that she had when they had been flying. She did want to fly again, desperately. She had had a sip of wine once at one of her parents’ dinner parties, when her mother stated flatly that she should try it in the presence of responsible adults. After drinking it, Wendy had felt grown-up and full of possibility. That’s what flying had felt like, and Wendy needed to feel it at least once more before this very strange and handsome bird flew their coop. She eyed him skeptically.

“Fine. We will come for just a quick visit. But we’ll need a few things.”