“Peter?” She nudges my side, gesturing to James, who’s shifting on the bench.
Before I can respond, she’s left. No splash. Impressive.
I stiffen and angle my body toward him, kicking his boot slightly harder than I have too. “Hey, wake up.”
He squints at the intense sunlight, lifting himself to a sitting position. “Pan? What … Where am I?”
“She'll be back soon.” I scoot closer to him. “Arya and the Sisters took us. Arya got separated from her pod and the rest of them. She’s in the water now, doing some kind of sonar check or whatever. We have to figure something out.”
James shakes the fog from his head and focuses on me, furrowing his brow. “Why are you trying to help me? What’s in it for you?”
“Duh, I want to get out of here. That hit must be messin’ with your thinking. Don’t you know me by now?”
Gritting his teeth, James fails to free his arms. There’s no way he’s breaking his bindings. We made sure of it. He stands and gazes out over the open water. There’s nothing but sky and endless ocean. We probably should’ve shut the pod’s roof, but there wasn’t time to think of everything. That and Arya wouldn’t have been able to get into the water fast enough to not be seen.
“Relax,” I say. “There’s nowhere to go. I’ve looked. We need to come up with a plan—work together.”
“How can you just sit there? We have to signal my vessel. They have to be searching for me.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say, irritated I can’t take care of the sweat dripping from my bangs.
“Why not?”
“Unless your crew can breathe underwater like our little friend, it ain’t happening. She sank your boat, man.”
He slowly stands and staggers over toward me. “What? The civilians … my crew? Did anyone survive?”
We should’ve bound his legs, but then I would’ve had to have mine tied up, too, and I’m not having that.
“Uh, sorry, man.” I shrug. “She’s not the same kid from back then. What did you do to her after I left? She seems pissed that you’re here.”
His brow tightens. “Shut up, Pan. You don’t know anything.”
“I’m just saying. Maybe it’s a good opportunity for you to kiss and make up so we can get out of here.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
This is not exactly our plan for James. Well, it’s my plan, but I can’t go and tell her that. I need to get to the Lost Boy’s Sanctuary and regain control of what I created. I can’t have Arya and James fighting with each other or we’ll never get there. She can deal with him after I’m free.
“How long has she been under?” James asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“A little before you woke up. Just play nice until the Sisters return, OK?”
“No, let’s overpower her when she gets back. Should be pretty easy.” His breathing becomes more intense. “Get my hands free, and I’ll pilot us back to one of the Syndicate outposts.”
“You know she’s not an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl,” I say. “With us bound like this, she’s got the advantage. She could flip the pod and then what? Plus, this thing is programmed to only start with her palm print.”
Glancing at the controls, he confirms what I’m saying.
“And do you really think I want you to lock me up again?”
He groans and starts scanning the compact pod. He kicks at the cubbies and compartments, hoping to find something of use.
“There’s nothing, James… I checked. No guns, no knives, nothing.”
Not believing me, he shuffles around, getting frustrated at not being able to move his hands. “Fine! I’ll play nice—for now,” he mumbles.
James moves toward the front of the pod and looks out at the horizon. With him distracted, I tap three times on the cabin floor with my foot. Arya and I worked out this subtle signal for her return.
James takes a seat in the cockpit. It provides a bit of shade from the mid-afternoon heat. Not sure why I didn’t think of that. Too busy plotting my freedom, I suppose.
A few minutes pass, and with a rush of water Arya bursts from the sea and onto the extended stern of the pod. She sticks the landing, rattling the craft. A refreshing spray hits my face, easing the sting from the endless sun.
While wringing the water from her hair, she gives me a scowl. James has yet to face her. I shrug and then motion to him. Seemingly unsure, she places her palm on a modest panel near the back. Green lights glow around her hand, signaling access has been granted, unlocking it. A hatch pops open, revealing a small pulse weapon that she grabs and attaches to a belt on her suit.
“You being a good boy, Peter?” she asks, playing up the intensity in her voice.
I flash a sarcastic grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
She steps toward James and stops in the middle of the pod. Taking a silent, deep breath, she combs her damp hair back with her fingers. “James.”
He rests his head back on the headrest and swivels the chair. “Arya.” The tone in his voice is less than pleasant—almost cynical.
“How’s your cut?” she asks. “Can I take a look at it?”
“I’m fine.”
Arya stares at James, pinching her lips together and reaching a hand to him. “Are you certain?”
“I said, I’m fine,” James snaps, jerking from her.
“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, do you at least understand what’s going on here?”
He sits up, stretching his shoulders. “You killed my crew, drowned innocent civilians, and kidnapped us. That about right?”
Well, there goes our plan. That’s not playing nice on his part.
“The Sisters and I didn’t know about the civilians,” she insists. “We’re doing what we have to do to keep the water safe from that Witch. We saved everyone we could before your gunboats arrived.”
James perks up at that. Peering out a porthole, he must realize Nerissa may be searching for him. I step in to cover Arya’s mistake.
“Her sisters led them away, meaning Arya has stranded us without working communications. We’re miles and miles from the battle.”
“Why did you even bother to save me?” he asks Arya. “Why not let me go down with my ship?”
Arya crosses her arms over her chest as an expression of hurt washes over her face. “Come on. You know me. Or you used to. I would never let you die if I could help it.”
“Oh, but my Dad’s life is not so important? He almost died!”
“That’s not what I wanted, and you know it, James. I didn’t belong there.”
“You belonged with me!” he snarls.
Silence fills the boat, only the waves crashing against the pod easing the tension in the air.
“James, listen,” I say. “What happened that night was my fault. I tricked her into escaping with me.” It’s not exactly the truth, but if I have to take the heat for them to quit fighting, I will. “I planned on saving her, but she wouldn’t leave without you.”
Again, a white lie.
His eyes race back and forth between the two of us. My lie is making him think and stop his pouting. Arya is not correcting me, so apparently, she’s decided to play along. That has to be eating at her.
“I’m sorry about your father,” she murmurs. “I didn’t want to hurt him, or you. I knew help was on the way.”
“Well, you hurt both of us.” He shifts the chair and looks out over the horizon a second time. “So, what’s your scheme here? What are you going to do with us now?”
Pacing a few feet, she stops and sits across from me. “We’re handing this one over to his boys. Then I’ll figure out what to do with you.”
Playing as if I had no clue, I lean forward. “What? You can’t take me there! They’ll kill me!”
It’s true. The Lost Boy’s new leader, Mateo, might, but I don’t plan to be playing prisoner. Arya just has to bring me there, and I’ll do the rest. Once I’m free, I can make my move. The Lost Boys are the first step t
o regaining what Nerissa stole from me. When she relocated the Neverland settlement, she took more than just my home.
She stole my Lily with her, too.
Chapter 5
Arya
From the captain’s chair, I watch as the pod eats up the endless water, moving us nearer to our destination. It’s hard to remain vigilant with the goings-on of Peter and James behind me. Every once in a while I turn and let them see my holstered weapon to ensure they know who’s still in charge.
At least I hope it’s still me. Peter didn’t exactly stick to the plan while I was gone.
Why couldn’t the Sisters have been closer? Maybe they are. It’s not like Peter knows our coordinates. I should just tell him I’m taking him to his precious Lost Boys and find the Sisters instead, but with the comm out on the pod, I can’t contact them. I run my fingers over the quarter full fuel cell indicator—definitely too low to get to our standard meeting place.
I swivel, weapon now in hand. “What are you boys talking about back there?”
“Just wondering when we’ll get there,” Peter replies smoothly. “I want to make sure all my bags are packed, and I don’t forget anything under the bed.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You talk too much. I'm going to search for some duct tape. Have you seen any, Peter?”
Peter scoffs. I snicker softly, but then catch myself. Softening to Peter is a bad idea. My guard needs to stay up.
“James, will you please come up here?” I ask as I holster my weapon on the side of my suit to better assure James I don’t actually want to use it on him. Peter, though? That’s another story.
James doesn’t budge.
Peter glances at him, then back at me. “The Lieutenant is too busy folding my underwear for the trip.”
I ignore Peter. “Please?”
James lifts his eyes and locks his gaze onto me. Without speaking, he rises and walks over, but with the top of the pod now closed, just like Peter before, he’s a little too tall to straighten up completely. Even so, he manages to never look away, and the intensity of his clear blue irises makes me feel as if a thousand minnow are swimming inside of my stomach.
Relax. You are a strong, capable person.
The statement is hollow, since right now I feel about as strong as mush.
I straighten and square myself as he reaches my side. He takes a seat on the bench closest to the control station.
“You called?” he asks sarcastically, gaze averted.
The words hurt. “Stop it,” I say under my breath.
James flicks his eyes back to mine, his face washed in anger, but also hurt.
“Please—stop,” I whisper, trying my best to ignore Peter, who’s eavesdropping rather obviously. Not that he can be doing anything else in this tiny space. Even if the boat was ten times as big, he could easily listen in, thanks to Nerissa.
I quickly swivel toward the controls and recheck the auto function before rising and taking a seat next to James. I'm compelled to study him. Brown skin, square jawline, crystal-clear eyes that once, not so long ago, looked at me as if no one else in the world existed. Even after all he’s endured he looks amazing.
Two years has done a lot for him. Two years has done a lot for him. His strong, muscular arms make him look more like a man than he did when I last saw him.
“Can I check your injury now?”
This time he doesn’t move from me, barely nodding. I stand and gently rest my hand on his shoulder for balance. Energy from the touch runs through me, and he immediately tenses, then relaxes. Did he feel it, too?
Reluctantly, I remove my hand from his shoulder to inspect his head. My breath hitches just from the closeness of our bodies, and I straighten and try to readjust my thinking, but all the while I can’t help but notice his breathing has sped up as well. I part his short, dark, curly hair at the spot where he must have taken the impact on the ship. James winces. I find a small cut and a good-sized bump, nothing too serious, but he likely has a concussion, being out for so long.
“Are you feeling dizzy?”
“A little,” he says.
“Nausea?”
He shakes his head.
“Well, we need to get you checked out.” I bend and examine his eyes. “Any medics in your group of guys, Peter?”
“Yeah, they can take care of him,” Peter calls. “Make sure he doesn’t kick the bucket before you’re finished with him.”
I shoot a glare Peter’s way, then turn to grab the medical kit, a red box marked with a white plus sign, from the storage under the bench. I pop the top, fumbling through bandages and wrapped tablets for pain until I find ointment to smear on James’s wound. I open the cap.
“Can I?” I ask James as I sit next to him again.
“Why not?”
I apply the salve then return the tube to the box and snag a packet of pain medication. I rip it and motion for him to open his mouth.
“These don’t require water.” I pop in the tablets.
He nods and lets them dissolve. “I still could use some, though.”
“What?”
“Water. I’m really thirsty.”
I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it myself. Peter and I drank some earlier. “Of course,” I say, grabbing the bottle from beside my chair and pouring some into James’s mouth.
“Hey, what about me?” Peter chimes in.
“We have to ration it, and you’ve already had some.” I shift my focus back to James. “That enough?”
He nods, and I return the water.
“I am sorry for what happened that night,” I whisper.
James pivots away from me. Disappointed, I return to the captain’s chair.
“You can go back to your seat,” I say lowly.
He doesn’t budge. “Did you care for me at all, or was I just something that got in the way of your escape?”
My pounding heart plunges solidly into my stomach. I whirl around to face him. “Do you truly need to ask that?”
“Yes, I do,” he whispers in an attempt to hide our conversation from Peter, unsuccessfully, no doubt.
“James, that kiss has kept me going for almost two years. I thought about staying, if only to be with you, but knowing what would have to happened to the Sisters …”
I pull open my collar and show him my gills.
“Can you justify her forcing these on me? I had no say. If I wanted to live, it meant keeping quiet and letting those scientists do what they were ordered to do.”
James darts his eyes to them, but shows no signs of the repulsion I’d expected.
“If Nerissa was making modifications to help humanity survive, it would be different.” I turn from him and release my collar. “But she was only doing it to control her own psychotic plans for evolution. I couldn’t let my opportunity to leave pass. Then, when your dad found us … I knew our being together wasn’t real. No matter how much I wanted it to be.”
“What are you two lovebirds talking about over there?” Peter calls.
“None of your business,” I snap.
“Because I’d hate if you were planning to throw me into the deep. I mean, what kind of a person does that?”
I whip my head toward him. Peter leans his body back up against the cabin wall and smirks.
James takes in a long breath. “Why is he here again?”
“Nerissa has a new crop of kids. I needed a bargaining tool.”
“And that’s why I’m here, too?”
“James,” I whisper softly, lightly touching the brown skin of his cheek, his stubble chafing my fingers. This time he doesn’t shy away.
Memories of our kiss—my first and only kiss—that magical, amazing, mind-blowing kiss, flood over me like a crashing wave. Part of me is dying to do exactly what Peter said: ditch him and forget this. James and I could disappear, live a happy life far from evil stepmothers. I know how to live on the run.
But James has never said leaving the Syndicate is what he wants to do. In fact, every
thing he’s done tells me he wants to stay.
I close my lids and sigh. Glancing once more, my hand still rests on his cheek, and his eyes soften with a look of hope, maybe even longing.
“You could help—”
Snap out of it, Arya! Don’t let his handsome face sway what you know is the right thing to do. He may just be fooling you into trusting him.
I bring my hand to my lap, gesturing with my head for him to move back toward Peter. “You’ll be alright for now. Go back to your seat.”
Dismayed, he does as I say, and I quickly turn before the hot tears stinging at my eyes escape. As I do, though, I become keenly aware that Peter was watching our exchange as if it were A-level entertainment.
I flop myself into my chair and focus on the humming of the pod and the rush of the water outside. James and I cannot be. Not if he remains connected to his family while I’m doing everything I can to take Nerissa down. But if I can use him to do that and keep him safe, I will.
I return the controls to manual just as I spot something in the distance. A cluster of tiny, rocky islands peeks up over the horizon. The Sisters and I have been here. It was a trading post before the Lost Boys claimed it. Now it’s nothing but a junkyard of old vessels and scrap parts somehow strung together to make up the new camp. The idea of arriving sends a shiver up my spine. A bunch of messy boys who need someone to wipe their noses is not appealing at all.
And this is who Peter is planning to ask for assistance?
Chapter 6
Peter
There it is. The Lost Boy’s Sanctuary.
No, my Sanctuary.
A lump fills my throat. Excitement and nerves compete to control my body as I look at the last place I called home before Mateo kicked me out a few months back.
Arya slows the pod, thrusting it into reverse to quicken the stop. The motion whips me forward and back, almost smacking my head against the cabin wall. I swear she’s grinning as she deactivates the pod.
“James, please move over a bit,” Arya coos. “I have to secure you to the armrest.”
NeverSea: Echoes of the Lost (Book One) Page 4