Page 85 of Caging Darling

My stomach coils, and I turn to face the Nomad, putting my back to Astor. Still, I feel his presence as if there are bells around his neck signaling his every move, every rise and fall of his chest behind me.

“Captain Astor here came to me recently looking for work,” says the Nomad. “We’d had…other priorities, but now that you’re all here, it seems like an expedient time as ever to fulfill both of your bargains. Now that we all want the same thing.”

“I’d hardly say that,” says Astor, his voice from behind closer than I expect, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

“Would you prefer to wait another month?” the Nomad asks. It’s a challenge. He’s waiting to see where Astor’s allegiance lies.

Or perhaps he’s just bored and wishes for Astor to come up with something witty to say.

“You know I like nothing more than a challenge,” is all Astor says. “Securing the impossible.”

Chills crawl down my spine, and Peter closes the space between us instinctively.

“And you two?” asks the Nomad, glancing back and forth between me and Peter.

I stay quiet. I’m less than eager to hand over Tink, my friend, to this wicked being. As much as I’ve suffered in the prison of Neverland, she’s suffered worse and longer. If I can find a way out of it, I won’t betray my friend. Possibly the only caregiver Michael has left, especially since I have no idea whether Tink was able to reunite with Victor and the other Lost Boys after escaping Neverland.

Still, there’s no use in refusing outright. I don’t have that kind of power. I’ll have to deal in the currency of sabotage if I want to give Tink the chance to escape the Nomad’s clutches.

“A bargain is a bargain,” is all I say.

The Nomad almost smiles. He turns to Peter. “I assume you’re in. Unless you’d like for me to send these two traipsing off on their own.”

“That will be unnecessary,” Peter says, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me close and making a show of whispering in my ear. “Besides, this will be fun, won’t it, Wendy Darling? Just another hunt for us to revel in.”

He slips his hand over my back and pulls me in, biting at my ear.

I know better than to glance at Astor, but I feel him tense, nonetheless.

I don’t recoil. I lean into it, swallow the disgust. It’s not that difficult. I’ve been pretending to adore my brother’s murderer for almost a year now. It’s as easy as sliding my feet into a pair of slippers.

Besides, when I let out a giggle at Peter’s touch, I glimpse the reflection of a hook in the mirror, twitching.

And that’s more addicting than dust.

CHAPTER 31

That my time is running out like the sand in an hourglass does not prompt the Nomad to cancel his previously scheduled evening celebrations.

“A plan is a plan,” he told us earlier when Astor insisted we get to work planning Tink’s kidnapping immediately. “And besides, I’ve already sent out invitations.”

I’m not sure if one can call it a ball, given it’s being hosted in the galley of the Nomad’s ship, but it certainly possesses all the proper elements. The best faerie lanterns are brought out, freshly cleaned so they shimmer as the light bursts through the glass. Circular tables are arranged on the far side of the ballroom, servants presenting the guests goblets of faerie wine, the scent of which tugs on my aching chest. The center of the ballroom has been cleared out to make room for dancing, though no one dares to set foot onto the dance floor until the Nomad does first.

He’s yet to choose a dance partner. Instead, he parades about, welcoming the guests. Most are rather jittery, clearly both enthused and terrified to have received an invitation from a criminal so infamous. I glimpse in their faces the shock I once experienced, the question behind their practiced smiles. Howcould a man with so many rumors attached to his title be so young?

He’s unsettling. I’ll give them that.

“Once we’ve fulfilled his bargain, he dies,” says Peter, hatred brimming in his blue eyes as he sips wine out of his goblet.

“I’m surprised you don’t kill him now,” I say, though that’s not my preference. I’d hoped not fulfilling my bargain would be the end of my miserable existence. But now that the Nomad, Astor, and Peter are all aligned in their efforts, I see little hope in sabotaging Tink’s kidnapping.

Unless the Nomad dies.

“Doesn’t work that way,” says Peter. “Bargains aren’t considered fulfilled when the one who made them dies. That’s what makes them so dangerous to enter into. If they die while you still owe them, it won’t be long until you follow.”

Numbness settles over my heart. Even though my bargain keeps me from killing Peter, there’s something about imagining his untimely death at someone else’s hand that has been a reprieve. A best-case scenario.

It seems I’d die either way, unable to choose Peter.

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