The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys #4)(49)

I step back as the light fills the darkness, one pulsing nebula at its center.

A geyser of water comes up and Peter Pan, glowing like a star, shoots off, burning through the clouds.

Peter Pan can still fly, it would seem.

I suspect gods need no shadow to take to the sky.





30





PETER PAN


When I was a boy on Neverland, I was terrified of the night. The howling wolves and the long shadows that grew longer in the woods. The shadow helped get me through the nights.

Then I found Tink and Tink’s golden glow would banish the dark and I was no longer terrified.

Later, when I lost my shadow, I was terrified of the day. Of the burning heat of the sun and the power taken from me, the hollow carved out of the center of me.

There was always something. Something to make me feel weak, and a crutch to prop myself on, to make me feel less so.

I know now.

The lagoon gave me the Neverland Shadow because I needed it.

I needed that crutch until I knew how to walk.

Balder’s memories are still vivid in my head. The memories of two gods on the lagoon’s beach, watching the spirits of the water carry me under.

I should be dead. Several times over.

And yet, I am burning with life. Glowing with it.

Drenched in darkness, terrified of light.

Always so fucking terrified and looking to someone else, something else to make me feel less so.

Until now.





I break through the clouds, one singular mission guiding me.

No shadow, but I’m flying.

The cloud cover disappears, and the stars glitter in the night sky.

In the distance, I hear shouting, fighting, the clashing of steel, and the voices of my chosen family. The one that never abandoned me, never traded me for another, and would never betray me.

I’m coming, I think to them, and I know they hear it.

Somehow, through shadow and light, we are all connected now.

And no one, not even Tinker Bell, will stop us.





31





WINNIE


We’re losing now.

And Tinker Bell is full of glee.

There’s a sharp cut on my torso, blood soaking through my clothing. Vane is on the edge of carting me off, I can feel it. But we’re not done. We cannot be done.

A fae swings with a wooden staff. I duck just in time to miss it, but she catches me on the backward swing and a sharp vibration of pain sings down my bones, down my ribs and into my legs.

Tears prick in my eyes.

The shadow swells around me, the air undulating like ocean waves. The fae stops, sucking in air like she’s choking. I stab. Cut. Slash. Her blood leaves a coppery tang on the back of my tongue.

How much longer can we do this?

How are we to defeat Tinker Bell when not even a fabled island blade can kill her?

Kas takes out a fae, then he and Bash go back-to-back, swinging, but the fae and the Lost Boys lose their frenzy and a hush travels through the crowd.

Their eyes turn toward the sky.

I follow in their direction and see an orb of light in the dark night sky and I swear I hear a voice say… I’m coming.

“What is that?” Bash asks, breathing heavily.

The light is traveling so fast, the sound of it cuts through the night like a jet engine.

It gets closer. And closer.

Fae voices rise in alarm.

I find Tinker Bell in the crowd, her mouth open, eyes wide.

This isn’t her doing.

This is something else.

The plume of light shoots across the meadow and crashes into Tink. Both fly back, hitting the ground with a thundering roar, tearing up the earth like a giant scrape of skin.

“Holy shit,” Kas says.

“What the fuck is happening?” Bash asks.

The light stands up and looks over at us.

“Pan,” I breathe out.

Fucking Peter Pan, glowing like a star.

Vane and I meet each other’s eyes. We look across the clearing at the twins.

I can feel Pan like a break of sunlight on my skin, even though it’s dark and the air cold.

He’s changed. Something about him has changed.

But there’s no time to unravel the secrets.

We have to move. Now.

Tink gets up, one of her wings hanging crooked from her back. The other is missing completely.

“What have you done, Peter Pan?” she asks.

“Found my own light, Tink,” he tells her.

She swings. He darts to the side. She swings again, knife in hand. Pan catches her arm and wrenches the blade from her hand. When the black stone is firmly in his grip, he tightens his fist and the stone melts like ink.

“Hold her,” Pan says, and we all race across the clearing to him. Bash grabs her arm, Kas another. Vane and I circle, our shadow pushing back on Tink, squeezing the air from her lungs.

“No!” she screams, fights against the twins.

Pan takes her face in his glowing hands. Blinding light fills the meadow. Light so bright, it makes my eyes sting.

“No!” Tink screams again.

The light and the heat pulses out like an inferno. Darkness mists out from Tink, swirling in the light. Dark tendrils of whatever dark magic resurrected her, trying one last time to keep its foothold on this world.