The Never King (Vicious Lost Boys #1)(9)

“Finish up, Darling,” Kas says.

“Why?”

There’s a double door on the far end of the kitchen with a balcony beyond it and the ocean beyond that. Bash goes to it and looks out.

The sun is setting. There are no clocks here so I have no idea what time it is. Sunset at home is around eight p.m. but for some reason, it feels later here. Maybe it’s the tropical air.

“Because Pan will be up soon,” Bash says to the door. “And he’ll want to see you.”

A shiver rolls down my spine.

I get a flash of the myth in my mind, the dark stranger that came to my house last night and stole me away, just like my mom said he would.

The guilt comes back. I never believed her.

I should have.





6





PETER PAN


Beyond my tomb, I can feel the sun sinking toward the horizon line, the shadows growing long.

But it’s dark in here.

And when you wake to total darkness, it’s impossible not to feel buried.

Some nights I wake and wonder if I’m in hell.

If I’m already fucking dead, entombed in the island’s dirt.

I toss the sheets back and set my feet to the stone floor and it’s the chill that brings me back, tells me that I’m still in my body.

I have flesh and bones, but still no fucking shadow.

How much longer?

How much longer do I have?

I flick on the bedside lamp and golden light fills the room. Immediately my eyes burn.

Fuck, I feel like hell.

I find my pants in the corner, the belt still strung through the loops. I pull them on, toss on a shirt and roll up the sleeves.

My sword is where it always is, hanging on the hook by my bed.

When the sun can kill you and pirates are hunting you and your magic is fucking waning, all you have left are blades.

I leave off the sword but go heavy on the knives.

One each goes in my boot. A few more hidden beneath my pant legs. Another in a sheath on my forearm.

Two floors above me, I hear Bash tell the Darling to sit.

She sits.

If she’s a good girl, she’ll always do what we tell her.

And I can be rather convincing.

The lock on my outer door clanks open. Vane’s the only one with a key. His footsteps draw near. He doesn’t bother knocking because Vane is a self-entitled prick like that.

Of course, he has his shadow. He has his magic and all of the perks that come with it.

“Good,” he says when he comes in. “You’re up.”

I sit back down on the edge of the bed and run my hands through my hair. I need a drink.

“You don’t look well,” he adds.

I glance up at him. He’s leaning against my dresser looking like he was carved from war.

I’m still not sure how I convinced him to join me and the Lost Boys but I’m glad I did. I need him by my side. Now more than ever.

“That trip took a lot out of me,” I admit.

“I told you I’d go fetch her.”

I snort. “And have her come back in two pieces?”

He runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip but doesn’t argue with me.

I get up as the last drop of sunlight disappears. I can feel it in my veins. Like a tether untied.

I can finally breathe.

“How is she?” I ask.

Vane’s gaze darkens. “Prettier than the last.”

“Not what I asked.”

He sighs. “Bash made her pancakes. Kas was nice to her. She’s calm for now. Already asking too many questions. Cherry gave her too many answers.”

“Fucking Cherry.”

“She’s a liability. Why the fuck do we keep her around?”

“Because she’s collateral and the kind of loyal we need. That’s why.”

“She was loyal when the twins were fucking her. Now she’s desperate.”

“She’s desperate for you,” I remind him and disappear into the bathroom. “The twins were just a distraction. She wants you. So fuck her and keep her loyal.”

I can hear him grumbling in the other room.

At the sink, I splash cold water on my face, try to drive the ache from my muscles.

I am ancient.

I shouldn’t ache.

I’m running out of time.

I can feel the island slipping from my grip.

In the mirror, I don’t recognize my reflection. I am a king who has no throne.

Fucking Darlings. Fucking Tink.

The rage simmers in my gut. I grit my teeth, close my eyes, summon a breath.

This one will be the one.

She fucking has to be.

Hands still damp, I rake my fingers through my hair. The cool water feels good on my scalp, helps soothe some of the pounding behind my eyes.

Out in the room, Vane is still brooding.

“What?” I say. “Spit it out.”

“Just let me kill Cherry. Let me send a message.”

“No.”

“Pan.”

“When’s the last time you chased someone, anyway? I can feel your shadow simmering. You got energy that needs to be spent. Do it before you take it out on the Darling. Do it for me.”

He sighs again. “Fine. Fuck.”