Page 9 of Tick Tock, Darling

They went higher. Farther. Smaller.

Her eyes begged me to do something. She held them on me the whole way up, and I gave her nothing.

Fuck. He was going to open the portal.

Why did Pan need Tinker Bell when he had Wendy?

Then it came to me and everything in me went cold. He was going to do to her what he’d done to Wendy. I’d never forgive myself for this.

Not the job. Not the debt. Not my sister.

Her.

Chapter Four

Tinker Bell

I should have warded the house better. Should never have gone to sleep.

I fought his arm and it was a steel band across my ribs, and every time I twisted he let me, the way you let a fish run. Cold air tore up my bare legs. My magic came up hot in my sternum and went nowhere — nothing to aim it at, nothing to stand on, nothing under my feet at all.

Caspian was sprawled on the sidewalk below us, pinned. Dark magic, obviously. I'd told him twice I didn't need his help.

Between the two of us we might have held them off.

"You're not going anywhere, Tink." Pan's mouth was at my ear. "You'll want to be helpful about the shadow. People who aren't helpful don't stay."

Never. It came out of the bandana as noise.

Why did he even need me? He had a witch.

He laughed like I'd said something charming. "There she is. I've missed that."

He climbed. Bourbon Street ran out beneath us, all neon and Christmas lights and people who had no idea, and then Crimson Stakes went by under his boots — Angelo's casino, lit up gold, full of the only men in this city who could have helped me.

If I got loose I'd fall. Onto Bourbon or onto a roof, and either one would probably kill me, and I'd still have the gag in and my hands behind my back. But somebody down there might look up. Somebody might see a woman drop out of the sky and tell Angelo Santi about it, and Angelo would tell Caspian, and Caspian would come.

That was the whole plan. Fall and be seen. That was what I had.

I threw everything I had against Pan's arm. He tightened his grip and didn't break stride.

My hair whipped across my face and I couldn't see past it. The noise of the Quarter thinned out and then stopped, and it didn't fade the way sound fades when you're leaving it behind. It cut.

The air turned hot. Wet and thick and green-smelling, December gone out of it entirely.

We weren't over New Orleans anymore.

We landed and I fought his arm. He let me go.

I ran. No idea where I was, hair stuck to my face, mud and leaves and sticks under my bare feet, running because running was the only thing left that I could choose.

A hand closed in my hair and yanked me off my feet. I slammed back into his chest.

"Going somewhere, Tink?"

Stop calling me Tink. It came out of the bandana as nothing.

"No one can hear you out here." He pulled the gag down. Took his time about it. "Scream all you like."