I grit my teeth at her demeanor. She'll ruin our plan because of a silly crush.
She adds binding to link his restraints to the nearest bar on his bench. He doesn’t say anything, just complies. Turning to me, she fails to offer the same courtesy.
“Lean back. Now. Behave yourself when I’m gone.”
Have I become her actual prisoner? This is starting to feel like a one-sided arrangement. Why did I let her tie me up so tightly? Would’ve been smart to keep my straps loose, just in case, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
She avoids my eyes, fastening me to my seat. This isn’t her. Sure hope she’s not rethinking our scheme. As Arya gathers her hair into a sloppy ponytail, I notice her heartbeat. The thing is hammering as if it’s trying to escape. Probably just nerves. She adjusts her form-fitted wetsuit, preparing to enter the water. When she rounds to James, his pounding heart quickens as well.
She’s not nervous to go … she knows he’s watching her, and apparently, he likes what he sees.
“Dude, relax, lover boy.” I shake my head at him. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
He diverts his gaze from her to me and scowls. “Shut up, Pan. Why don’t you disable that freak hearing of yours?”
“I’ll get right on that. Maybe your mom can install you with x-ray vision. Just think of what you could see through.”
He grits his teeth at the jibe. I’m a jerk, I get it, but he deserves it. Arya scowls at me, shaking her head.
I return the glare. “What?”
Arya’s pale face flushes as she skips her attention from me to James, then away completely. She’s embarrassed. That wasn’t my intention.
“I need to talk to these boys, unfortunately,” Arya says, ignoring me while gazing at the camp on the horizon. “We’ll set anchor here.”
“You still haven’t said what you plan to do with me,” James presses, tugging at the restraints.
“Yeah … uh … and what about me?” I ask. “Shouldn’t I go with you?”
“No. No, you shouldn’t.”
I hate that I have so little power here. I need to get this dampener off me. Sitting here in this tiny boat is killing me.
Arya walks around me to the captain’s chair. She enters a code on a keypad to the left of the pod’s dashboard. A release of air wisps out and a small hatch opens. She reaches inside, pulling something out. Concealing it in her hands, she steps in front of James. Gripping her weapon in her other hand now, she pauses before looking down at him.
“James,” she murmurs, “I need to put you out for this.”
Uncurling her fingers, she reveals two hypo-injectors.
James stiffens. “Seriously?” he groans.
“Sorry … I have to talk to them. It’s safer this way. Safer for everyone. If I can’t watch you boys, then you’re going to be taking a short nap.”
Shaking his head, he turns to avoid her. I almost feel bad for the guy. They were just kids forced into impossible circumstances. Now grown, they’re at war with each other. Whatever fairy tale they lived in the past is gone.
“Whatever, just… just do it,” James mutters.
Pausing for a moment, she stares at the injector before bringing it to his neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
A soft whoosh escapes the hypo-injector, forcing a sedative through his skin and into his bloodstream. His eyes roll back, and his body relaxes. Holstering the weapon, she caresses his neck and gently eases James onto the cushioned bench. He’s completely out.
Arya rests her hands on her sides and tilts her head back, lids closed. Every minute with James seems to be a struggle.
“Hey,” I call out. “He’ll be OK. We’ll figure this out.”
Doubt fills her face as she opens her eyes again. “Will he? Really? What if Nerissa doesn’t take the bait? What if she doesn’t go along with it?”
“Relax,” I say. “His dad won’t allow him to get hurt. Nerissa is obsessed with Thacher. Like, creepily obsessed.”
“Maybe.”
Her emerald eyes narrow as she shifts my way, the second injector still in her grasp.
“Whoa, whoa, wait.” I slide back as far as the bench will let me. “You’re not going to use that on me, right?”
“I’ve thought about it, but no, I’m not.”
Unzipping a tiny pocket on the side of her vest, she stuffs the injector in to conceal it. Swiping on a panel near the back of the pod, she unlocks the awning. It slowly retracts, section by section, until it’s fully open.
“What’s the plan here?” I ask, squinting at the intense sky. “I should be the one talking to them.”
“Don’t they hate you? Didn’t they kick you out of your little boy’s club?”
Dang. Arya knows everything that goes on in this part of the sea.
“Well … yeah … but I can fix it,” I say. “It’s not a boy’s club. It’s uh … like a merry boy band.”
She can’t help cracking a smile. “I’ve missed this, Peter. You kept me sane back then. I’m grateful for that, but I’ve got this.”
The pod sinks as she vaults off the landing and into the calm water. Once again, the pod settles onto the NeverSea. Just below the surface, I track her as she jets through the sea with ease. Man, she’s fast—faster than I remembered.
Just like that, I’m completely out of control of my destiny. Everything from this point forward is up to Arya.
Chapter 7
Arya
Bubbles percolate up around me as I emerge from the water, taking cover behind the edges of jagged rocks. In front of me stands the rare island peaks, barely more than a gigantic rock formation jutting from the ocean. Despite its near uselessness, the sight of any natural land evokes a sense of awe in me. High up the craggy surface of the tallest peak, sparse green plants poke from the stone. A smaller, narrow island waits after it, connected by what looks to be temporary, thrown together docks and three meager ships that barely appear operational. A few of Peter’s boys roam the makeshift station.
This pile of crap is Peter’s kingdom? Well, not his real kingdom—not the precious Neverland he lost. But even so, this junk isn't even close to appealing. I guess when you’ve never had anything, you cling to anything of significance. I should know. I touch my collarbone where the shell James gave me the night I escaped sits tucked under my suit.
The biggest and oldest of the Lost Boys paces back and forth on the deck of the lead ship. For a second, the guy rests his lean frame against the edge of the vessel, then goes back to pacing, this time running his hand through his mess of ebony, overgrown hair. If I remember correctly, I only met him once. His name’s Matt? No … Mateo. What looks like a perpetual scowl darkens his face.
Mateo’s the guy I need to deal with. I’m not sure if he’s up for it right now, but whatever. Some redheaded—no—bright-orange-haired kid I’m unfamiliar with comes up from behind Mateo. I strain to hear what he’s saying, but it’s no use.
I dip beneath the water again and swim toward the main dock, keeping deep enough that no one can see me yet. I’m not planning to surprise the boys. There’s no need to make anyone nervous by sneaking up on them.
As I approach, I dive further. The water pushes into my gills, and then I shoot upward onto the dock’s surface with a thud, rocking the platform. Instantly, I throw my hands into the air to show my intentions are not hostile since, come to think of it, I probably should have chosen a less dramatic entrance.
Several pairs of eyes are immediately on me. From the left, someone out of sight calls out, “Company!”
With that, just about every person I know to be here steps out into view. I even get a glimpse of Wendi, the sole girl who seems to tag along with the Lost Boys. Her long, chocolate-brown hair blows in the breeze as she narrows her eyes at me. For some reason, she’s always stayed clear of the Sisters and me when we’ve been here before. I heard a rumor she had a crush on Peter. Maybe he told her something about me she didn’t like—completel
y unfounded, I’m sure.
“I’m here to speak to Mateo.”
My hands are still high up in the air, and I’m well aware of the nearest guy to me, named Cyrus, as he gives me a slow once-over. He’s the one who wouldn’t leave Talise alone the last few times we’ve traded here. She wants nothing to do with him, of course, unless we require specific information. Then she’ll pump up the charm and toss him aside after she gets what she needs.
I ignore his gawking for now, though his one-track mind could be useful later.
“Is Mateo here?” I already know the answer, but unlike everyone else, he hasn’t come out yet.
“I’m here, Arya.” Mateo struts out onto the dock, gripping a weapon, but thankfully not pointed my way. He holds up his other hand to shade his eyes and looks out over the water. “Where are your sisters?”
“Elsewhere.” I inch to him, lowering my hands, but keeping them visible and away from my body. No threat here. “Can we speak in private?”
He shrugs and tucks his weapon into the back of his pants. “Anything you have to say can be said out here in front of the boys.” He turns to the other Lost Boys and nods slowly at Wendi. “And girl. I trust them all.”
I grit my teeth. This topic isn’t the type of thing I want to discuss with the crew staring at me, and I know when I get to the Peter part of the story, it’s apt to get tense.
“Private would be best.” I hold Mateo’s stare and don’t let loose. He will not intimidate me.
“Fine,” he says in a gruff voice and waves me toward the largest vessel.
I give him a nod of thanks and follow.
Inside, he leads me to a cramped supply room. I wrinkle my nose at the stench of fish and sweat. What else would I expect from a bunch of guys who avoid personal hygiene until absolutely necessary? I even spot a sizable freshwater converter on the way in; an older model, but it would create considerably more volume than the one the sisters and I have on our ship. Some days I’d kill for longer than a three-minute freshwater shower.
“Would you like a towel?” Mateo asks, his demeanor has softened slightly now that we’re not on display.
“Yes, please.”
He reaches into a cabinet at his side and pulls out a thin, tan towel, tossing it my way.
I catch it and wipe my face, then dab at my still tied-back hair. My suit is nearly dry, as it should be. I bartered a lot for the fast-drying feature.
He gestures to a metal bench. Barely taking my eyes from him, I move to sit, placing the used towel beside me.
Mateo doesn’t sit. Instead, he crosses his muscular arms over his chest and plants himself a several feet from me.
“Why are you here?”
My stomach twists. Relax Arya. You can do this.
“I’m here for help.”
Mateo chuckles. “You and the sisters haven't needed our help before. A few trades and leading on my guys and you’re gone. Why now?”
I remind him how I escaped from Nerissa, but for now, I omit the part about Peter. He may know the information, but if he doesn’t, it will only make Peter look even worse. And since I need Peter, and a minuscule amount of me wants to trust him again, it’s for the best I nix it for now. I then continue to the story about Nerissa’s newest batch of kids and how we have to end crazy experimentation.
“Those kids are like you and me, Mateo. They lost families, or were stolen from them. Nerissa is using them.”
Mateo listens the entire time, never interrupting, but also never relaxing his stance either.
“Is that it?” he finally asks.
“What do you mean? Do you need more to get involved?”
“The boys and I try to keep our noses out of Nerissa’s business.” Mateo shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “We stay out of her way, and she leaves us alone.”
I scoff. “And how long will that last? You know there’s a huge chance she’ll come for you—for something. She won’t stop until she takes over this whole section of the sea. I mean, look around you. Nerissa has stolen everything from you. Your group is relegated to a camp of floating junk.”
Mateo narrows his eyes at me.
“Sorry, but it’s true.” I hesitate with this next part, but it must be said. “What if you could have Neverland back?”
“Neverland?”
“Yes. Instead of a hodgepodge of ships and rope, you'd have a real home.”
Mateo turns from me. “That place is a pipe dream now.”
“Not if we all work together.” I choose my words carefully. “Not if we kill Nerissa.”
Mateo’s attention shifts back to me. “And how do you intend to do that?”
“Um.” Here goes. “I brought along a little assistance and some … insurance.”
One of his eyebrows quirks. “What do you mean by insurance?”
“I have her stepson, James. He’s the ransom and the bait. And … I have reinforcements. A person that knows the ins and outs of her operations.” I gulp. “He wants to help you guys.”
“And where are these people?”
“Back at my pod. James is sedated.”
By the expression on Mateo’s face, I can tell there are thoughts rolling in his brain. “And the other guy? Or girl?”
I straighten and square myself. “He's willing to help, and has the skills we require. I don’t think we’ll be able to do this without him.”
Some of what I’m saying is to convince Mateo, but it’s also to convince myself.
“Well?” He raises his hands, palms up. “Who is this almighty savior?”
I suck in a breath and push down the nervousness creeping over me. I hope this Mateo and Peter problem is ancient history, but knowing Peter, it’s probably not. Mateo forced him from the group months ago, but that’s also how Peter ended up on Nerissa’s ship. Maybe Mateo feels guilty about it.
I can only hope.
“It’s Peter.”
“Peter!” Mateo spews out about twenty curses I’d rather not hear. “Peter is here? Unattended?”
I rise and plant my feet. Despite my small stature, I will not let Mateo intimidate me. “Look!” I snap. “First off, Peter can’t do any harm. I have him secured, and he has a belt on that inhibits his flying ability and strength. We’re out here in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to go, and I’m pretty sure he's aware you’d have his head on a platter if he were to walk in here by himself. That’s me. Peter has the skills to do what I need him to. Without him, our chance of success is almost nothing. Now, do you want to get back to Neverland, or float out here on a giant trash heap for the rest of your life?”
Mateo goes quiet, seething.
“Fine,” he growls. “Bring him to me.”
“Good. My pod is parked a ways out. After I get it, I’m going to need one of your bigger guys to get James out. He’ll be sedated for at least another hour, and we have to keep an eye on him.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“How’d you do it? Get them to see me?” Peter asks from behind me as I pull the pod up to the dock.
“I told them you were crucial to the mission. That you wanted to help.”
“Really?” Peter’s lips twist up into a mischievous smile. “So—”
“So basically I need you to be on your best behavior.” As I dock and power off the pod, I turn to him. “Don’t let me down.”
I activate the hatch and the door whooshes clear. My attention shifts to James, slumped on the bench, and then back to Peter, who holds up his stuck-together hands.
“Think you can clip off these restraints?”
“Nope.” My lips quirk into a grin. “Not until Mateo says so. We made a deal.”
A face appears at the opening of the pod; that guy Cyrus again. He’s attractive, with his olive skin and square jaw, but he’s the type you can tell is in love with himself, and that’s pretty unattractive.
“Where’s the one I’m supposed to get?” Cyrus asks.
I nod to James, and Cyrus climbs in to retrieve him. H
e doesn’t even glance at Peter. Apparently stronger than he looks, he hoists James’s dead weight, and it isn’t until he heaves him out the pod door that another boy assists him.
“Let’s go,” I say to Peter.
White washes over Peter’s face, but he immediately follows me.
Mateo waits for us on the dock, jaw squared, boots planted firmly.
“Mateo,” Peter says with an uncharacteristic lilt to his voice.
Mateo marches toward us, stopping only a few feet away, silent.
“So …” Peter says. “How have things been?”
“You son of a—”
Without skipping a beat, Mateo’s clenched fist meets Peter’s jaw with a stomach-turning crack.
Chapter 8
Peter
I stagger, licking my lips, failing to locate blood. “What the hell! You’re going to be like that with these stupid restraints on?”
Arya races in between us, hands extended. “Boys, stop!”
“Arya, I suggest you move,” I hiss. “I don’t need my fists to float this kid.”
Mateo’s scowl turns to concern as he backs up, realizing that even with my restraints, my fighting skills puts him at a disadvantage.
“Are your petty arguments more important than stopping Nerissa?” Arya pleads.
It’s taking every last nerve to keep me from charging him, but Arya’s right. I grit my teeth and inhale deeply. On the exhale, my rage settles, finding a pit in my stomach to bury itself in—for now.
“This was a mistake,” Mateo mutters, avoiding my stare.
“No, it’s OK. I forgive you,” I say, my tone brimming with sarcasm.
“Funny … very funny. I see all those months on your own haven’t dampened your boyish charm.”
A few seconds of heated silence allows for an audience to build on the ship above. Scrawled across the side are the words Tiger Lily, after my Lily's childhood nickname. At least Mateo didn’t rename the vessel after they booted me. Probably couldn’t find any paint.
Ethan, Tug, and Wendi lean against the deck rails. Ethan looks like a dog ready to attack Mateo, brow tightened, nostrils flared. He was the only one who refused to vote me out.
NeverSea: Echoes of the Lost (Book One) Page 5