“Because you’re a Darling.” He moves closer again, his presence like a touch. “Captain Hook wants you dead, Moira. He’ll stop at nothing until you are.”
A trickle of ice water seems to lick down my spine. “What, why?”
“He wants to rule Neverland. That includes destroying me, the Lost Boys, and anyone we’ve ever cared about.”
I shake my head. “You’ve never cared about me. See? Problem solved.”
“You’re part of Wendy’s line. Hook knows that. He knows you exist. He wants to snuff you out with the rest of us.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“To gain control of Neverland.” He says it as if it’s perfectly obvious. “He’s a pirate seeking treasure, and the island is the greatest treasure of them all. He’ll destroy every last living creature here if it means he gets what he wants.”
“Okay, so why did you bring me right to him? Take me back.”
“I can’t.” Now he’s the one crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s found out about you somehow. He already sent some of his pirates to find you.”
I rub my temples. “I’m pretty sure I’d notice if a guy in a tricorn singing a sea-shanty came at me with a blunderbuss or something. That hasn’t happened. Besides, people are going to notice I’m missing. You can’t keep me here.”
“Time works differently in Neverland. Besides, who will notice?” Peter asks.
I open my mouth, close it, open it again, snap it closed. Damn. My mom’s dead, and that’s a whole barrel of bad I don’t want to get into.Ever. My father’s moved on with someone half his age and has made it clear I’m not part of their new love story.Yuck. I’m an introvert to a fault and haven’t made any real connections in college other than classmates and teaching assistants. I have a few friends from high school, but we’re to the point where we text every few months. I don’t talk to anyone on the regular except my professors. That’s it. God, I seem so pathetic when Iactually think it through. No one will miss me. No one will be looking for me on the quad or at the caf. No one is breathlessly waiting on a text from me. I’m alone.
Even so, I muster an answer. “Professors will notice. My, um, my classmates will see I’m missing.”
“I don’t know, Moira.” He doesn’t break his gaze from mine. “I watched you for a while, trying to keep you safe from the pirates. I didn’t see anyone who …” His implication lingers in the air—that he knows just how lonely my life is.
“You don’t know me, all right? So don’t give me that look. Peoplewillnotice if I don’t show up at class.” But how long will it take before they come looking? Days? A week? A shiver courses down my spine.
“You’re tired.” He steps even closer, his body heat warming me in the suddenly-chilly cave. “Let’s go to bed.”
I shoot him a suspicious look.
He smirks, amusement in his gaze. “Just sleep. That’s all. I promise.” The smirk grows. “Unless you want more.”
“Get over yourself.” I stand my ground and ignore the slight thrill that twists low in my belly at his implication. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Just sleep, Moira. That’s all. Please? You need rest from the journey and your run through the woods. Trust me, in time, I’ll answer your questions.”
“I have too many.” All of this is too heavy for me to struggle through. My family stories are real? That’s only the beginning of whatever mess I’ve found myself in. I don’t see any way out but through. I eye him, my suspicion out in the open. “Once again,I’m going to have to take your words at face value even if I don’t want to. Even so, that still leaves a huge problem. How do we keep Hook from killing me?”
“Easy.” He takes my arm and leads me through the cave. “We kill him first.”
Chapter
Six
“When you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars.”
The bedroom is large and girdled by tree roots all around except for some bays carved out with bunkbeds in the stone cubbies. The granite walls flicker along with the candlelight as I peer at an absolutely enormous bed that takes up most of the room.
“How did you even sew sheets for this?” I gape at it.
“Slightly’s decent with a needle.” Peter yanks back a patchy quilt and gestures for me to climb in.
“No, thank you.” I glance around and find a wooden chair leaning against the wall. I sink into it, though part of the wicker-like back stabs under one of my ribs.
“You can’t sleep there.” One of the twins calls from his bunk, then settles with his hands laced behind his head.
