by Dee Garcia
“And you all agreed because her plan somehow ran directly parallel to yours,” Tinksley finishes. “She was playing a rook in the real plan without even realizing it.”
“Bringing the truth right to her door.”
“You do realize that by her discovering the truth, she would know you’d all been lying to her, right?”
I nod. “As I said, the whole point. Rosewood grew more wary by the day, and we grew more tired of living in secrecy.”
“Touching story, but it doesn’t matter now, not to me. What matters is that I’ve been nothing more than a pawn on a board I had no clue existed, hopping the necessary spaces of my own accord because my heart told me to, because you all allowed it. I wasn’t just lied to, I was silently urged from the sidelines to fall in love with my brother, just for him to turn around and hurt me. How can you say you care about me when you wanted me to get hurt?”
“Because I never expected to want you,” I carp. “Never expected to need you, to feel like this about you. These plans came about when you were a child, Tinksley. You were a wee little thing, I was a man. It was different back then. Your father promised he’d always keep Pan in line, and I believed him, thought you were in good hands with your mother playing against him as well. But it wasn’t just that, okay? It goes much deeper. The spell—and you—”
“The spell? Me?”
“At the time they cast that spell on him, they had to pick the perfect loophole! Every spell has one. A counterbalance. Peter was supposed to live forever, reliving the death of his mother at his own hands, yet due to the balance required by each spell, a ‘way out’ had to be written in the fine print.”
Her lips part with a gasp. “A...a way to end his immortality.”
“Yes.” I draw closer still, blocking her in further, praying she can see past her rage and hear me out. “At the time, it seemed the perfect solution. Peter could only be killed by a blood relative that loved him. Only your father was taken into account at the time, and it was clear he never would, so later on, when you became close to him…” I choke on my next words, knowing how she’ll take them.
“You’re saying that my decision to love him makes this all my fault?” she whispers in a tiny voice.
My eyes slam closed. God damn it. “You were never supposed to be close to him. Not even as his sister. But you insisted Tinksley, you insisted. You listened to no one and there was a pact in place to keep his parentage a secret. Once I started seeing the stolen kisses, though, the way he held you, how he touched you, I knew something was happening and that, in turn, sparked a change in me, too.”
“Wait, wait, wait. So when you said you watched me, you meant it, truly?”
“Often, yes. Started out to ensure the plan was panning out. But then I caught wind of the fact Peter was most definitely crossing the line without a single fuck and everything changed. Me. The plan. All of it. Suddenly it became clear that letting him live as an outcast in Rosewood wasn’t a solution. He’s too impulsive. Too volatile. Too greedy. He seduced his own sister, for fuck’s sake! Unleashing him on the mortal world wasn’t an option, either. So he had to die. And now, thanks to the loophole in the spell, there was only one way to make that happen. You didn’t come to love him as a brother, as we originally planned when you insisted to get close to him . . . you’d come to love him as a fucking man, Tinksley.”
“What you’re saying is, basically, your stupid plan somehow overode the fact that my brother was fucking me? You couldn’t just tell me upfront and let me decide to end him?” Her face twists in hurt and frustration. “Are you listening to yourself right now?”
“No, I wanted you to kill him, and I would have loved for you to do it willingly!” I leer. “More than ever, and it wasn’t in the name of the plan. It was for you. As demented and unhinged as this sounds, he deserved nothing short of the hell you could unleash after he blatantly crossed the line. But simply telling you wasn’t going to be enough! Even now, there you stand, more angry at us than at him for what he’s done. This conversation began with you still defending him, insisting you knew all his secrets because you were naive enough to give him yours.” Harsh words, ones I doubt she’s ready to hear or admit, but they’re true nonetheless.
“You’re sick.” She takes a staggered step back. “You’re fucking sick! Do you understand what you just said to me?”
I bow my head into my chest. “I do, wholeheartedly and unfortunately. I should’ve said something to them sooner, right from the first occurence, I know. You’ll never know how much it ate at me every single day and I’m so fucking sorry, love. My biggest regret will forever be sitting back, knowing and allowing it to happen time and time again in the name of vengeance.”
“Them?”
“What?”
“You said, them.”
I force myself to look up at her disappointment that I know is blazing in her eyes. “Yes, I should’ve told them and put an end to it much—”
“So you did speak up? When? Who did you tell?”
“Your father. It was after N’Isabelle’s celebration. I couldn’t stand by and watch him play you anymore. You were hurting far past our expectations and it was my fault for not uttering a word sooner.”
“He’s the reason Peter left.”
I nod. “When I told him, he couldn’t believe Peter had managed to slip through the cracks. Handled it promptly. He warned Peter that if he didn’t leave, he’d tell you and you’d murder him yourself. A lie, of course, since we never believed you would, but Pan believed it.”
“He should have just let me kill him.” Her eyes darken, and not in the way they do when immortality shows through. No, it’s the beginning of the beast taking its hold. “Suck him clean of his vile, nefarious soul and call it a day. That was the plan, right? That’s how I was supposed to kill him.”
“Tinksley.” I’m panicking, barely withholding myself from moving toward her. She’s going to flip that switch.
A swift hand cuts into the air, warning me to remain in place. “I’m fine. Overwhelmed, betrayed, disgusted to my core, but I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry. You have to—”
“You know what? I’m not mad at you.” She inhales a deep breath. “As stupid and possibly naive as that may sound, I can’t find it in me right now to place the full blame on you. Yes, you were wrong, you all were. But at least you feel remorse, know what you did was wrong. Peter knew and he still did it anyway, and without a drop of remorse at that. And as you said, I didn’t listen, did I? From day one, an entire world told me to stay away, and although I didn’t know about the loophole in that spell, I wanted to be rebellious. So maybe it really is all my fault. The fact my brother fu—fu—” She bites back a sob, unable to finish.
“Baby girl, please.”
Her attention suddenly snaps to the door, eyes returning to their normal state. “The witches are here.”
I grind my jaw because I don’t want us to leave the conversation like this but, alas, duty calls. We need that daylight spell. “I promise you we’ll finish this conversation later. I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“Not necessary.” She wraps her arms around her middle. “I’ve already heard all I need and want to know. Go handle the witches, Callan. I’ll be fine, I swear it.”
No she won’t.
We both know it.
♫ Titanium - David Guetta ♫
I’m still reeling later that evening, riding this endless, maddening high that has only dissipated enough for me to tame the beast threatening to break free at any moment and think somewhat rationally. I will say this: the beast will best me, soon I suspect, but I want it to.
I need it to.
A mountain of secrets, years of deceit, betrayal—everything I thought I knew was nothing more than a lie. All of it. Even my mother, who didn’t want me anywhere near Peter, was secretly conspiring against me, banding with the Council in their feat to rid themselves of Peter Pan.
In all honesty, that’s not even what I’m most aggrieved about. On the one hand, I can understand where the need for a plan stemmed from. As Hook said, Peter was different in ways most couldn’t explain because they had no knowledge of the truth. Rosewood didn’t know what he was capable of, they saw him as a threat. It’s natural they’d want him out of here, and as the urgency increased throughout the years, so did the Council’s need to be free of the secrets my father had forced upon them.
Secrets he wanted to be free of himself.
So yes, perhaps they didn’t go about it the right way. They could’ve simply just told my mother the truth, but that would’ve still left Peter in the picture.
That still would’ve left the spell.
That still would’ve left me as the only possible solution to killing him because of my stubbornness to love him.
All I can think about is ending Peter every time his face pops into my mind. What he did without qualms is eating me alive, spurring the Fae to supersede me. Just thinking about it makes me sick. He’s my goddamn brother, a fact he knew clear as day when our father dragged him here after the atrocity he committed...and he still used me, still fucked me and allowed me to fall for him, wove himself so deep into the fabric of my being that I withered away and killed myself when he left me high and dry.
Because he got caught fucking his little sister and using her as some sick form of entertainment while trapped in a world he didn’t want to be in.
Death. Kill him. End him. Suck him dry of his soul, the beast whispers, soul quivering with rage.
I force myself to inhale a deep, cleansing breath, willing the monster to remain at bay for the time being. Not yet—I won’t allow it to break free just yet.
Just this morning I would’ve crumbled at the thought of triggering this demon. But now? Now I realize this was fate’s plan all along. Immortality served to keep me alive after an unjust death. The Fae, however, serves a higher purpose. Not only to see through the plan Hook and the Council had put in motion, but to see it through for myself.
To bring myself the peace and justice I deserve after being played like a puppet for the majority of my life.
One way or another, this was always going to happen, and I’m only glad I have Hook by my side as I begin to explore it. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should be disgusted with him, as eager to end him as I am Peter, but no one is perfect, not a soul on this planet.
If nothing else, at least he feels remorse. He knows what he did was selfish, debased, downright fucking immoral, and he owns it. He may not have intended to speak the words of his own accord, but when the time came, when the whole truth begged to be set free, he stepped up and put himself on the line.
Has made up for it in tenfold. The only goddamn person who truly gave a single shit about me during my darkest hour.
Hence why I’m so thankful for him.
Why I can’t deny the fact that, through all his faults, I’ve fallen so hard for him. And nothing is going to change that.
He should’ve had more faith in my rage and told me about Peter sooner so I could do what the spell calls for and end him, but at the same time I can’t blame him for viewing me as he did.
Can’t blame anyone.
I really was a stupid child playing at being a woman, ignoring every red flag just to get my way and be close to the boy everyone told me to steer clear of.
In that aspect, I have no one to blame but myself.
That incessant itch in the back of my throat suddenly flares to life anew, veins burning hot, stomach beginning its contorting act of protest. I’m not surprised. I’ve been holed up in Callan’s room since this morning and haven’t left the safety of its darkened confines for a single thing.
I couldn’t even if I’d wanted to. Portions of the castle may be shadowed, but the vast majority allows for streams of daylight to pour through, and without that daylight spell, I can’t be caught in the rays.
Nothing is stopping me now, though. The sun set over an hour ago, and while Hook said he’d be back for me, it feels silly to wait. I know my way around here, well, mostly anyway. Know the people who roam these halls. I may still be on edge, probably will be until I ensure Peter takes his last breath, but they’re not in any danger.
I don’t want to hurt them.
I only want to hurt him.
Hopping off the bed, I scamper to the door and flash out into the hallway. Considering it’s still quite early, I expect to see someone treading its long distance, but there’s no one. It’s eerily silent, so much that my steps, while quiet and precise, still resound off the carpet beneath my weight.
That’s when I hear it; his voice. Not quite booming, yet my hearing picks up on it anyway.
“You’re free to go,” Callan states evenly.
A small gasp, then the befuddled sound of Tigerlily’s voice. “What?”
The library.
I evanesce down the corridor to its entryway, stopping just before the threshold, and peek around it carefully.
“You can go, whenever.”
Her pretty, slanted brown eyes burst, yet her brows furrow in the same puzzled fashion as her tone. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Well, for one, I trust you to uphold your end of the deal, the one you spoke of. Let me be clear, though. If Tavi fails to fall in line, he’ll have to deal with the consequences personally. I won’t allow you to step in for him again.”
Tigerlily nods in understanding, prompting Hook to continue.
“And secondly, I’m leaving. Wouldn’t be fair for me to keep you here.”
“Leaving? Where?”
I’m as shocked as she sounds. This is news to me, too, skyrocketing my heart into a wild gallop.
He’s leaving? Why?
“I’m not going alone,” he explains. “Tinksley will be going with me.”
“I am?” I blurt, shuffling into the room. Don’t care that I’ve outed myself as an eavesdropper.
Callan peers over his shoulder at the sound of my voice just as Tigerlily peeks around his tall frame.
“You are. Well, as long as you want to.” He nods, eyes steadily tracking each one of my steps. Probably gauging my demeanor for any signs of the beast leaking through. “I won’t force you to—”
“Where?” I’m obviously curious, yes, but I’m also genuinely taken aback. It was a surprise enough to hear that he was leaving. But to hear that we both are?
“Through the portal,” he clarifies, just as I sidle up beside them.
What the hell? “To the human realm?”
Another nod.
Stare fixated on his gorgeously chiseled face, I lift a questioning brow “For what?”
“Revenge.” He smirks at the astounded expression that settles across my face.
“Seriously?”
“Very. I know it’s what I wanted for you, but I also know you need this. It’s the only way you’ll expel the rage consuming you whole. The only way you’ll find a semblance of peace. Draegan suggested the same after I spoke with him this morning.”
I’m hearing the words coming out of his mouth, and they make complete sense, as I came to terms with this same fact just a few hours ago, yet all I can think to myself is: How? How does he know this is what I want?
What I need?
A part of me isn’t surprised, really. It’s laughable given I should know he’s always so in tune, never once missing a beat, always a step or two ahead. Sometimes, I think he knows me better than I know myself.
Why would these circumstances be any different?
“So you’re saying you no longer think I’ll blindly defend Peter to the death and that I’m fully capable of making him pay?”
I take small satisfaction at the sheepish expression on Hook’s face. “Maybe that’s who you were before, yes, but only a fool wouldn’t see the change in you now.”
“I’ll give you two some space,” Tigerlily murmurs, making way to step around us.
I reach for her before she takes a
single step, shaking my head. “Stay. Nothing we’re speaking of is meant to be private. So, how are we going to do this?” I turn back to Callan. “He could be anywhere.”
“He could, but I have no doubt he went back to the only other place he knows. We still need to locate him, though, meaning it won’t just be us. We’ll need help, eyes and ears everywhere. The boys will follow us through.”
Tigerlily’s puzzled gaze bounces between us as I lift my chin surely, the Fae within all but purring in delight. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow. That said, come with me, I have something for you that you’re going to need.” Callan holds out his hand for me, blue eyes cutting to the Chief’s daughter the moment my palm slips in his. “And you, don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?”
Tigerlily nods wordlessly and then we’re off, boarding the Lost Soul sheer minutes later.
An ill-shiver racks down my spine the moment my feet touch the deck. The last time I was here, I never thought I’d see its majestic expanse ever again. Looks exactly as I remember it; dark and dreary, a grim vessel of stolen treasures and the lost souls of those taken throughout its voyages.
Wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime has passed since then. And perhaps it has; I’m not that same girl anymore.
We head straight to the bow of the ship, passing spar after spar along the way, each one upholding a crow’s nest and grand, weathered ivory sails. The foremast, though—that’s the true focal point, where an ebony, tattered sail hangs proudly in the night. Emblazoned on it is the very symbol that encompasses the captain at my side.
A skull and crossbones.
I’m staring up at it, how it billows almost villainously with the light wind, when we come to an abrupt stop.