WINNIE

When I walk into the library, Pan and Vane are silent, gazes already trained on the doorway as if they’re expecting me. I think both of them have the ability to hear farther than a mortal so maybe they are.

Beyond them, the giant circular window is dark, but several lamps are lit around the room turning the space cozy and warm and rimming them in gold.

Despite the coziness, I can’t help but shiver with their attention squarely on me. I’m the one who came here, to them, and yet it feels like I walked into some kind of trap.

“What is it, Darling?” Pan asks, a glass of liquor resting on the arm of his chair, his long fingers steepled over the rim.

There is a cigarette trapped between Vane’s fingers and the smoke is a sharp ribbon curling up from his hand.

“I need to go back home.”

They share a look.

Some unspoken conversation passes between them.

“Lasted longer than I thought you would,” Vane finally says.

“What? Oh. You think I want to go home for good?”

Pan cocks his head my way. “Is that not what you meant?”

“I just need a few hours. Unless you want me to stay in my world?”

“Don’t be coy,” Vane says with a tsk-tsk of his tongue. “Baiting us to beg you to stay will leave you disappointed.”

Pan brings his glass to his lips and drains the last swill of liquor in one gulp. When he sets the glass aside, he stands up. “As if we’d let you leave anyway, Darling.” He crosses the room to me and steps out of the slant of light putting him more in shadow. I lose sight of his face in the dark. “You’re Lost Boy property now,” he adds, his voice rasping and when he finally reaches me and returns to the light, there’s new energy in his gaze. He grabs a lock of my hair and winds it around his finger and goosebumps lift on my forearms. “You couldn’t return home if you wanted to.”

I smile sweetly up at him. “Begging and claiming. Almost the same thing.”

Vane snorts. “Clever Darling girl.”

“What is it you need from your mortal world?” Pan asks.

I lick my lips. His hand comes up, his thumb running over the wetness and heat sinks down my chest, down to my navel.

“Girl stuff,” I say.

He frowns at me.

“I need to see a doctor.”

“Are you hurt?” There is a thread of worry he lets slip into his voice.

“No. I just…I need to return home. Are you going to take me or not?”

He tips his head to the side. “I can’t. The sun is about to rise.”

“I’ll take her.”

Pan looks at the Dark One over his shoulder. That feeling that they’re having a silent conversation returns. I don’t think they can talk to each other like the twins can, but I think Vane and Pan have been friends for so long that they almost understand each other without words.

Finally Vane stands up and Pan turns back to me and says, “Behave, Darling and do as Vane says.”

“Or what?” I challenge craning my neck to meet his bright blue eyes.

“Or Vane and I will do very bad things to you.”

I glance at Vane thinking surely he’ll rebuke Pan’s promise.

But he doesn’t.

The shiver that takes hold of me makes me visibly tremble.

Pan and Vane both know that I’m not even close to a good girl.

In fact, I think I’m very talented at being a bad one.

“Keep your eye on her,” Pan says to Vane.

“Don’t worry.” Vane narrows his eyes at me. “I know how to keep naughty Darling girls in line.”

“Are we flying or jumping?” Vane asks as we make our way down the stone steps behind the treehouse just as the sun bleeds light into the dusky sky.

The thought of being tightly wrapped around Vane’s body in midair for who knows how long seems like it could be either sublime or torturous. Or maybe those things are one and the same when it comes to him.

“Which is faster?”

“Jumping.”

I bury a wince. “Let’s jump then.”

He lets me take the lead from the house down the well-worn path into the woods and then to the lagoon.

“Do you go to my world often?” I ask as the sandy beach of the lagoon gives way to the rockier terrain surrounding Marooner’s Rock.

“Your world is a—what is it the children are saying these days? A dumpster fire.”

“’The children.’” I grumble. “I forget you’re older than a grandpa. Just how old are you anyway?” I glance over my shoulder at him.

“Keep your eye on the trail, Darling,” he warns just as I stumble over an exposed rock. He snorts and doesn’t even bother trying to catch me.

Once I’m steady again, I follow the path as it zig-zags around an outcropping.

“Will you tell me?” I ask. “How old you are?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t count age here like you do. Age doesn’t matter when half of us look younger than those who are younger than us.”

He has a good point.

I keep trudging. He keeps following silently behind me.

“So you don’t go to my world?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then—”

“When I’m bored,” he admits. “When I want to scare children or make grown men weep. That’s when I go to your world.”

I huff as the cliffside grows steeper.

“I should have guessed.”

“Yes. Now hurry along.”

When we reach the summit, the wind tosses my hair in my face and I make a mental note to find some hair ties while back home.

“Ready?” Vane asks.

My heart is suddenly thumping against my ear drums. I really don’t like jumping off of cliffs and I certainly don’t like doing it with someone who possesses a shadow of death.

But I really need to get home and to the clinic.

Vane holds out his hand for me. I can’t help but stare at the offering like it might bite.

When I finally slip my hand into his, there is a split second where his face softens and his shoulders relax.

But it’s gone quickly and his hard lines and shadowed scowl return.

“Come,” he says and yanks me toward the cliff’s edge. “Let’s get this over with.”

I come up in the pond at Emerald Park screaming.

Vane clamps his hand over my mouth and brackish water coats my tongue.

“Quiet,” he says at my ear. “For fuck sake.”

I blink into the morning daylight. It’s later here than it is in Neverland and I can hear the distant hum of traffic. Just beyond a row of bushes, there’s the sound of a dog panting and a collar clinking against a leash. The owner murmurs something to the animal before they fade away.

When Vane is satisfied that I’m not at risk of drawing attention, he removes his hand and trudges out of the pond. Then he snaps his fingers and he’s dry.

“How did you do that?”

He fixes the collar of his shirt. “I’m the Dark One, remember?”

“Yes, but…I didn’t really think your power would work here, whatever it is that it does.”

He scans the surrounding paths. “My power doesn’t work the same here as it does in Neverland, but there is magic in your world. It’s just that fewer people can harness it.”

“I had no idea.”

“Where is this doctor?” he asks, ignoring me. “Lead the way.”

My clothes are glued to my body. I’m still soaking wet and water drips from the end of my nose.

“Well go on,” he says.

“Can’t you use that power on me?”

He eyes my chest. I’m not wearing a bra and my nipples are poking at the wet material. Thankfully it’s not white, but it is thin.

His gaze lingers. “Now why would I do that?”

With a grumble, I turn away and head down the sidewalk.

Three seconds later, my clothing is dry. My hair too.

I come to a halt and look back at Vane. In the morning light in my world, he sticks out like a villain from a fairytale. A dark, handsome fantasy.

“Thank you.” The two words come out a whisper.

He gives me a shove. “Let’s get this over with.”

If I’m going to be fucking multiple guys in Neverland, I have to make sure my birth control is in order. In the past, I’ve taken the shot because the less I have to think about it, the better.

I know time moves differently in Neverland and I’m not entirely sure how much time has passed since I last visited the clinic.

I don’t want to accidentally end up pregnant with the baby of a myth.

The Sheffield-Stratmore Clinic is in a run-down red brick building on the far south side of town. There’s a flag pole out front, but the flag is tattered on the ends and the rope hangs like even it is sick of holding itself up.

I hate it here. It smells like a wet basement regardless of which floor you’re on and everyone is despondent as if working here is some kind of punishment.

The front desk clerk, Janet, slides open the glass window when she spots me. “Winnie,” she says, “I don’t have you on the schedule today.”

“I know. This is sort of an emergency.”

Vane comes up behind me and Janet’s eyes pop open.

I turn around wanting to take in the sight of him from her vantage point. In Neverland, he’s big, though not as bulky as the twins and not as tall as Pan. But here, he seems to swallow up the hallway.

“That’s my boyfriend,” I tell Janet and Vane gives me a hard look. I shoot him an innocent smile and he rolls his eyes.

“Does the doctor have room to squeeze me in?” I ask Janet. “I shouldn’t need an exam. Just another shot.”

She shuffles through some papers then realizes what she really needs is the computer and sits back down in her chair. She clicks. Clicks again. “We could probably squeeze you in. Sign-in on the sheet.”

I pick up a pen tied to a clipboard on the yellow countertop and sign my name in the next available slot.

“Right this way,” Janet says and leads us down the hallway to one of the exam rooms. She shrinks away when Vane passes her to enter behind me. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

When the door shuts, Vane turns a circle. “This is a sad place.”

“I know.”

“Tell me again why we’re here?”

“Medicine,” I say because I’m not entirely sure he knows what birth control is and I sure as hell don’t want to have that conversation with him of all people. I should have asked the twins to come.

I hoist myself up on the exam table grateful that I don’t need an annual. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“What kind of medicine?”

Just then, the door opens and Dr. Harmon walks in. She’s a woman in her late thirties with short brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Pearls shine in her ears. There’s no makeup on her face, but she smells of expensive perfume.

“Good morning, Winnie,” she says and then comes to a halt when she sees Vane in the room.

“Good morning, Dr. Harmon,” I answer and she blinks back to me.

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“No,” Vane answers.

Dr. Harmon opens a computer attached to the wall and types something in. “A friend then?”

“Are these questions relevant to her care?” Vane asks not even bothering to hide the bite in his words.

Dr. Harmon looks at him again and then quickly back to her computer.

“I didn’t think so.”

“You’ll have to excuse him, doctor,” I say. “He has a ten-foot stick shoved up his ass.”

Vane and I sneer at one another. I should not have let him bring me here. I could have jumped off that cliff by myself, even if every fiber in my soul was against it.

Dr. Harmon unlocks a cabinet and pulls out a pre-filled needle. She comes over to me and since I’ve done this many times before, I roll to my hip and then yank down the waistband of my leggings so she can administer the shot in my ass.

But after prepping the spot, and uncapping the needle, Vane grabs her by the wrist, stopping her.

“What is that?” he asks.

“Excuse me?”

“What is in the needle?”

“Vane,” I try but he shoots me a scathing look.

I swear the air vibrates and suddenly Dr. Harmon is looking at Vane like he sprouted a second head.

The terror.

He’s using his power on her.

“Tell me now,” he says keeping his voice even.

“It’s a form of contraceptive,” the doctor mutters.

Vane cuts back to me. “This is what you came here for?”

“Yes?”

He yanks the needle out of the doctor’s grip and tosses it to the counter. “You should have told us.”

“Why? It’s none of your business.”

“Pan can’t get you pregnant. And the twins and fae in general very rarely procreate. That shot is a redundancy and we are wasting our time.”

This is all news to me.

“And you?” I ask, because my brain likes to walk itself into uncomfortable situations.

Vane comes closer. “As if that would ever be an issue.”

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“Excuse me…” Dr. Harmon holds up her hands. “Just how many men are you sleeping with?”

That’s what she took away from this conversation?

Vane rounds on her. “Are you slut shaming her?”

Dr. Harmon bumps against the counter as she backpedals. “I…I…” She gasps for air as the terror takes over again and tears spring to her eyes.

“Vane.”

The doctor shrinks away as Vane crowds her and then she slides down the wall, her butt hitting the dirty floor as the terror takes over.

“Vane!”

“Tell me your most shameful secret,” Vane says.

I slide off the exam table and wrap my hand around his arm, but he’s firmly planted in place, bearing down on Dr. Harmon.

“That feeling you have right here—” Vane taps at his chest “—it will persist until you answer. Tell me, doctor, just how long can a mortal heart feel terror before it explodes?”

The doctor claws at her chest as tears stream down her face and her mouth forms a large O.

“Vane, please.”

“Tell me,” he coaxes.

She sniffs, huffs and then, “Sometimes I write myself prescriptions for narcotics. I steal food from the employee lounge. And every other week, I sneak away to have an affair with my son’s best friend!”

A trill of laughter escapes me and I quickly clamp my hand over my mouth. The truth is, Dr. Harmon has always been overly judge-y about me and probably every other girl like me. I’m not typically ashamed of my sex life, but whenever I leave an appointment with Dr. Harmon I am.

I always walk out of the building thinking: maybe you are trash.

The doctor's tears pour down her face.

“And there it is.” Vane crouches in front of her and takes a fistful of her lab coat and drags her close to his face. “Do you know what I hate most about you people? Your judgements are a mirror and you’re too ashamed to look at your own fucking reflection, too afraid to see the ugliness that lies inside.”

Then he tosses her back and her head knocks against the wall.

“Come on, Win,” he says to me. “I don’t want you in this shit hole another second longer.”

And then he takes me by the hand and yanks me out of the room.