How many Darlings have walked through the halls of the treehouse?
I’ve lost track.
We’re on autopilot at this point, all of the steps rote, we’ve stepped so many times. I’ll try to quell her with food. Kas will pretend he’s not like the rest of us. Vane, of course, is about as subtle as a hammer and will terrorize her until she sobs.
It’s a good thing I make damn good cloudberry pancakes.
The Darling’s gaze wanders as we make our way to the kitchen. I’m distantly aware of the crumbling grandeur of the house. It’s several hundred years old now, built by the labor of colonial soldiers we kidnapped back when it was easier to make men disappear.
They’re dead now. Mortals decay. Lost Boys never die.
As we cross through the loft, the Darling gazes up in wonder at the canopy of the Never Tree.
When we built the house, we chopped the tree down, but the following day, it had resprouted, fully grown. Again we chopped it. Again it came back. So we built the house around it. Now it’s home to wild parakeets and pixie bugs but it’s looking worse than it ever has.
The leaves are thinning and the bark is peeling. It’s just another sign that something is wrong with the island, and that something is Peter Pan.
When we reach the kitchen, Kas gestures to one of the stools at the long island in the center of the massive room. Mullioned windows take up one wall with a clear view of the ocean beyond. The kitchen has always been my favorite room. It’s full of light and possibility.
The Darling sits.
Vane comes around the counter and looks menacing just by leaning.
As I collect the pan and bowls, the ingredients I need, I can’t help but scrutinize the Darling.
We’re all aware of the space she takes up.
Kas sits beside the girl. “What’s your name, Darling?” His size dwarfs her. We could all break her.
“Like it fucking matters,” Vane says.
Vane especially.
“Don’t be a dick.” To the Darling, Kas says, “For the most part, you can ignore him. He’s always got a stick up his ass.”
No, more like a ruthless shadow. But that’s too much for the Darling yet. She’ll learn soon enough.
“Go on,” Kas says, keeping his tone of voice light.
“Winnie,” she answers. “It’s Winnie Darling.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Winnie. You’re Merry’s daughter, right?”
She nods. There is an emotion that comes across her face at the mention of her mother. Defeat, I think.
Merry got a raw deal. We can all admit to that.
As I mix up ingredients, Kas entertains her with mundane conversation.
We all play our parts in this and my twin has always been the gentle tour guide. He’s better at playing nice than the rest of us. He’s more like our father in that way. I got our mother’s thirst for blood.
I don’t like to watch a Darling cry, but I love to watch them bleed.
In a bowl, I toss in the wet ingredients and stir it all together as Kas tells the Darling what she’s won.
“We’ve been looking for something that was stolen from us,” he says. “And we think you might be able to help us find it.”
“What is it?” she asks.
That’s what they all ask.
It’s hard not to be bored with this conversation. How many more times can we have it?
Kas looks at Vane and Vane gives him a barely perceptible shake of his head.
It’s always better if the Darling doesn’t know the specifics. We don’t want to muddle the memories in her head before we can dig our claws in.
“All you need to know,” Kas says, “is that you’re safe here so long as you follow the rules and cooperate.”
“And for fuck’s sake, don’t run,” Vane adds.
“Why?” she quips, a bit of fire in her voice.
Oh, I can see she and Vane are going to get along real well.
“Because I will chase you,” he says, with a sinister bend to his voice. “And you don’t want to know what happens when I catch you.”
The Darling visibly trembles.
Good girl.
The quicker she learns, the better off she’ll be.
My twin eyes me. We’ve always been able to communicate on a level no one else can. We know each other better than we know ourselves sometimes.
His dark brow is furrowed.
He can feel it too.
Something is different about this one.
I know, I answer.
Pan has always had one rule about the Darlings—they’re off-limits.
We have plenty on the island to keep us busy without fucking around with a Darling.
We’re the Lost Boys and there’s plenty of lost pussy looking to be found.
I’ll make the pancakes and Kas will pretend to be the Darling’s friend and Vane will brood from the corner and we’ll try our hardest to keep it all together until sunset.
I quickly fry up a stack of three pancakes that I put on a plate for the Darling then cover it in a spread of butter, a layer of syrup.
Setting it in front of her, I stand back to watch her take the first bite.
“Dig in, Darling,” I say. “I dare you to tell me they’re horrible.”
She looks at the food, then at me, as if she’s trying to gauge whether or not I’ve done something to the food.
She’s already been kidnapped. If we wanted her dead, she’d already be dead.
She cuts out a bite with the fork and when she puts it in her mouth, her eyes widen and a little moan escapes her.
My cock takes notice and I have to fight the urge to readjust.
Kas gives me a look.
I know, asshole, I say.
Pancakes aren’t supposed to be fucking sexy. It’s not like I gave her a bowl of strawberries to wrap her pretty little lips around.
I always make the Darling pancakes. It’s tradition.
Down the length of the counter, Vane goes still.
She takes another bite and her eyes slip closed.
A bead of syrup glistens on her full lips and she drags the flat edge of her tongue over it, taking its sweetness.
Fucking hell.
Vane’s shadow disturbs the air and when I look over at him, both of his eyes have gone black.
I snap my fingers at him. He blinks and turns away.
“It’s really good,” she says after swallowing. “Like…really, really good.”
“Yes,” I say. “I know.”
Kas leans into her, spreads his arm over the back of her stool and steals the fork from her hand. I’m envious of his proximity to her.
What does she smell like? I ask him.
Like secrets and forbidden fruit.
Kas takes a bite off her plate. “Well done, brother,” he says around a mouthful of food, then winks at me, the fucking prick.
“What’s the tartness?” she asks.
“Cloudberries,” Kas answers.
“Cloudberries are real?”
Her wonder is a delight.
Most Darlings have had a warning about us, about Neverland. Most of them show up terrified and trembling.
This one acts like she’s awake for the first time.
“I like them,” she says.
“They’re in season,” I say.
“Oh, she’s here!” Cherry says from the doorway.
“Christ.” Vane pushes away from the counter and makes his way to the door. I can’t see his eyes. I don’t know if he’s gotten control of his shadow or not. Cherry is a good excuse for him to leave anyway. She’s got the biggest crush on him, though only the gods know why. He’s a fucking surly asshole on his best days. Downright scary on his worst.
He detests Cherry. He detests most of the women he fucks, but Cherry especially.
“She stinks like pirates,” is his favorite thing to say.
Vane is gone in an instant and Cherry tracks him, desperate for his attention.
Somedays I feel sorry for the poor girl. But she made her choices. We all did.
“Morning, Cherry,” I say. “Meet the new Darling.”
Cherry comes up to the island and extends her hand to Winnie. “Hi! It’s really nice to meet you!”
“Hi.” The Darling sets down her fork, takes Cherry’s hand and shakes. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Are they being nice to you?” Cherry asks. “Sometimes they can be a little rough. Most Lost Boys are. They’ve been abandoned by their mothers and—”
“Cherry,” I say, the warning clear. Kas and I may be the nice ones, but we won’t hesitate to put her in her place.
“Sorry,” she says. “I just mean…” Her face pinks. She’s full of freckles, empty of confidence, lacking power. We might have mistreated her over the last two years. Actually, I know we did.
“You mean what?” The Darling looks between us. She’s hunting monsters and has no fucking clue. Her gaze asks too many questions.
“Careful, Darling,” I say. “Eat your food.”
The sun is setting and Pan will wake soon.
And then the real fun will begin.
