“To save the island from Hook. Hook wants to take over the island and claim it for himself. That’s why the magic is dying, right?”
Another look passes between Shiner and Tiger Lily.
Ugh, more secrets. “Stop doing that! What’s wrong?”
“Is Tinker Bell still with Peter in the cave?” Wraith asks and takes a piece of fruit. He devours it in one bite.
“Yes.”
“How about the Lost Boys in the tree. How many would you say there are?” Cobweb asks.
I chew my fruit and begin to realize how pointed these questions are. It’s like they’re trying to get intel on Peter. Like I’m aspy. No, thanks. “Why don’t you just ask Peter?”
“That’s a good question.” Peter stalks in, his hair flattened against his head from the rain. “If you want to know something, Tiger Lily, you can come to me.”
My breath catches in my throat at the state of him. Soaked through, shirtless, and madder than I’ve ever seen him. He walks right to me and offers his hand. “Let’s go.”
Bunk is already on his feet and standing at Tiger Lily’s elbow. I don’t see Wraith, but I get the feeling he’s still here somewhere, and Cobweb and Shiner both have their blades drawn.
Tiger Lily rises and motions for her people to stand down. “Peter, you don’t have to?—”
“I do.” He cuts her off as he pulls me to my feet. “You attack my men and steal my boon from me? What did you think would happen?”
My boon. What does that mean? I know what a boon is, of course, something good like a prize, but why would he use that word?
“Why did you say?—”
“Peter, give me some more time with her. She’s soaked, and the moon is high. You’ll both be safe here with?—”
“Absolutely not.” He pulls me behind him. “If you pull another trick like this, it will be war again. Is that what you want?”
Tiger Lily’s eyes narrow. “Threats don’t go over well here, Peter. I would think what happened to Hook would’ve taught you that.”
“If you touch her again, what I do to Hook will be nothing more than an appetizer. That’s not a threat, Tiger Lily, and you know it.” The ferocity in him makes me shiver. I’m not used to this Peter even though he’s been hinted at by the Lost Boys.
A beast howls nearby even as Peter draws me away from the warm fire and the warriors still gathered there.
“Maybe we should stay.” I try to pull him to a stop, but he refuses.
Without turning his back on them, he guides me from the round building and back into the rain.
“Peter!” I pull away from his grip. “They weren’t hurting me. We could stay and?—”
“They’re not your friends, Moira!” he yells.
I cringe back against the wall of the building.
He takes a deep breath, then meets my gaze again. “I’m sorry. I just … I heard you’d been taken and I snapped. I’m sorry. I was so afraid something had happened to you.” He steps closer. “What if they’d made a deal with Hook? I couldn’t sit by and let you be handed off to that monster.” Reaching up, he cups my cheek. “I have to protect you. I will always keep you safe.”
I want to tell him that I felt safe with the Neverians or the Guardians or whoever they are, but I don’t. After all, Peterhaskept me safe. He saved me from pirates when I ran away, then pulled me out of the mermaid’s grasp. Peter’s done nothing but protect me.
“Let’s get back to the cave before you catch a cold.” He takes my hand, and we rise from the ground, his pixie dust in full supply as we move quickly and hew close to the treetops. The lightning seems to have stopped, but the rain still pounds, and without the trees to cushion it, the drops seem to seep through to my bones. I shiver as we fly and give a sigh of relief when he finally starts steering us down.
We enter the cave from the grove of trees, and Peter hurries me past the kitchen where the others are gathered and into a roomI’ve never seen before. It’s the most angular of them all, as if someone took time to perfect the edges and make it seem like a real room in a real house, not a rough-hewn cavern or a tunnel.
“Here.” He sits me down in a threadbare chair as he bends over a blackened fireplace that’s maybe a quarter of the size of the one in the Guardian’s round house. Water runs down his strong back and puddles on the floor as he strikes the flint and gets a small fire started. Once he’s satisfied it’ll stay lit, he adds a few logs on top and sits across from me in yet another threadbare, mismatched chair.
“You’ll warm up soon.” He looks me up and down. “They didn’t hurt you?”
