Page 33 of The Never Queen

Sometimes I forget that while Peter Pan is a star god, he also has flaws and fears and hopes and dreams just like the rest of us. The difference is he rarely talks about them, making it seem like he is without weakness.

It’s a reminder that while I’m the target, Pan and the boys still stand to lose something. They’re risking so much just being here. Hopefully Kody can follow through with the deal that was struck and the magical stones can protect us while we search for my mom and finally bring her home.

Pan appears on the porch and gestures us inside. All is well in the old Victorian.

Looks like I’m returning home, but not to the one I want.

With a resigned huff, I get out of the car and walk into the house I swore I was forever leaving behind.

16

PETERPAN

I am acutely aware of the leftover energy that has permeated the lath and plaster walls of the old Victorian. It clings to my skin like smoke. Desperation. Despair. Hunger and love. The rooms are full of new furniture, the windows draped in new curtains, but the memories and the magic have remained. There was only so much paint and caulk that could be applied to the house. If you look closely, you can still see the wards carved into the door frame, or the faint brush strokes of sigils beneath the fresh satin paint.

Darling visibly shrinks and bristles when she walks through the front door and not for the first time tonight, I’m left wondering if we made a mistake coming here. I’m not sure what would have happened if Hansel hadn’t shown up.

But why the fuck did he? Why did he turn against his fellow Witch Killers and then vow to find Merry himself?

There is an alarm bell ringing in the back of my head that I can’t quite seem to shake.

I want to take Darling back to Neverland, but I’m not sure anywhere will be safe now.

I should have seen this coming.

“Get her a drink,” I tell no one in particular. But Vane is already moving into the dining room where we installed a bar cart last we were here. I hear the distinctfwopof the cork coming out of the decanted bottle of whisky and the generous pour he gives her in a glass.

“Come on, Darling.” I guide her in the opposite direction, into the living room. There’s a large sectional couch that curves in an L around the room with a hand-hewn coffee table in the center. Kas is turning on lamps and then plugging in the string lights that arch back and forth across the ceiling because there is nothing Darling loves more than string lights.

I flick on the TV and then toss the remote to Bash.Her favorite,I mouth to him, and he nods, queuing up the search function.

“It’s going to be all right,” I tell her as her frazzled energy permeates the air.

She drops onto the sofa and crosses her arms over her chest. She’s wound up tight, but she looks exhausted, as if she could sleep for a day and two.

She says nothing, but then Bash finds her favorite movie and hits the play button and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips.

An old CGI owl flies across the screen as the music starts up.

Vane comes into the room and hands her the glass of whisky.

“You guys are being too much,” she says, but she takes a generous sip of the liquor.

“No such thing.” I bend down and force her chin up. “It’s going to be all right.”

“Why is everything going wrong all of a sudden?”

I’m not sure she intended to so clearly admit the tension and strain pressing down on her. First with Doren and the fae tryingto deny her her rightful place by the twins’ sides. Now this, her mother kidnapped, her own life being threatened.

The owl on the TV screen is replaced by a girl acting out her own fantasy in a park. Darling is watching her, but I can’t tell if she’s actually seeing the movie.

“Darling. Look at me.”

Her gaze skitters up as a breath lifts her shoulders in a sigh.

“We have always figured it out. Haven’t we?”

She swallows. “Yes.”