Forever Neverland(24)

The world rushed by them, Peter taking them up further and further just as fast as he could fly. Lights blurred and then dulled, ducking out of sight behind the cold fingers of rain clouds that whipped at Wendy’s face like ropes of ice. Tears froze on her cheeks and her heart sank into her stomach, her only solace the solid grip that Peter Pan had on her wrist. He wouldn’t let her go…

She was about to try to call out to him once more when, suddenly, and a little painfully, Peter stopped.

The world grew abruptly quiet and still.

“It can’t be. . . .” He was gazing at something across a sea of white mist. His eyes were wide in disbelief.

Wendy blinked hard and swung her other arm up so that she could get a grip on his jacket. It was wet with water vapor and slippery, but she dug her fingernails in as hard as she could and hung like a rag doll off of Peter’s forearm. And then she followed his gaze to see what it was that had given him pause.

There, slowly sinking through the fog like the fin of a shark, was a ship’s flag – a skull and cross bones against a background of black.

“The Jolly Roger,” she whispered, because that was all she could do.

“Wendy!”

Peter jumped at the sudden sound of John’s voice cutting through the haze below them. And in that moment, his grip on Wendy’s wrist slackened. Her arm, as slick with water vapor as his jacket, slipped through Peter’s fingers.

It took but a heartbeat for Wendy Darling to disappear beneath the clouds. But, at least, as she fell, she found her voice once more, and her scream followed her down.



Chapter Nine

Hook heard the scream and looked up.

“What in bloody – ” He murmured, frowning at the blanket of white that covered them. The scream grew louder and closer. Not knowing why he was doing so, Hook walked slowly across the deck until he felt that whatever was screaming would fall right on top of him.

In the instant that she broke through the white mist, long hair flying all around her, Hook held out his arms. And Wendy fell into them.

The impact knocked the wind out of her lungs, leaving her dazed. Her eyes were still shut tight. She didn’t open them. Distractedly, she threw her arms around her savior and held on tight, not knowing whether she was alive or dead – only that she’d stopped falling and was eternally grateful for it.

Captain Hook stared at the young woman in his arms. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. She was still there. He closed his eyes once more and opened them once more. She was very much there – and she was holding him as if her life depended upon it. Hook could smell something vaguely sweet on her hair, and though he didn’t fully trust his senses just then, the scent reminded him of caramel apples and hot chocolate…

A stony silence had fallen upon his crew. And then, within a few moments, a disbelieving murmur began to rise all around him. Pirates were crossing themselves and clutching tiny leather bags that hung on leather cords around their necks. Some were looking up at the clouds, wondering what else would fall through.

Hook turned to face Smee, who was now coming down from the quarter deck, his eyes wide behind the spectacles he almost always wore. The look on Smee’s face was all Hook needed to confirm that what was happening truly was happening.

A young woman had fallen out of the sky and into his arms. He tried to pull back and get a better look at her face, but she held on fiercely, burying her face in the white ruffle and laces of his under shirt.

At this, a few of the men snickered. Normally, he would have none of that kind of thing, but at the moment, he really couldn’t blame them.

And then he sensed it. That vibration that had been driving him on. That worrisome tickle at the base of his spine that caused his blue eyes to darken and his teeth to grind.

With strong and fluid grace, Hook spun around, yanked the girl’s grip loose from his neck, and unceremoniously handed her to Smee. Smee took her easily, and in that instant, Hook caught a glimpse of her face, her eyes wide, her cheeks wet with tears, her lips red where she had bitten them.

“Wendy?” He whispered.

She blinked at him, her expression a combination of wonder and horror. “H-Hook?”

And then he shoved his astonishment away, spun back around, drew his sword from its scabbard, and raised it above his head.

Right on cue, the crew of the Jolly Roger heard a call come from the heavens above them. “Wendy!” A male voice, as familiar as it was different.

Hook smiled, white teeth flashing. It was not a friendly smile.

Like a cannonball in speed and fury, a young man dove out of the clouds, his dark garb a stark contrast for the blonde of his hair. In the space of an instant, he was above the Jolly Roger and backpedaling from the blade that was so suddenly there, directly in his path.