His face registered surprise. He was obviously not expecting her to be so kind to him. “Yes, well, it’s a start. We’ll need many more if we are to try and overthrow Hook.”
“I imagine you will.” Wendy shyly pushed the hair out of her face. Peter’s eyes lit up, lingering on the line of her neck. Even now, when his presence made her want to bathe in scalding water, she could feel her body pulling toward him, feel her skin flush at his gaze. “Peter, I’ve been thinking. And I do need some time, but I do believe, I do believe that I could love you. I was just scared, you see. What I feel for you is confusing.” At least now she wasn’t lying. “I fear losing myself in you. It’s not something I’m familiar with, and it frightened me.”
Peter’s face darkened. “I understand, Wendy, but when will you be ready? I have waited long enough, I feel. I’m losing my patience, waiting for you to sort out your womanly feelings.” He stepped menacingly toward her. “We need to take our place as King and Queen of Pan Island, and soon. Who knows, perhaps we should even think about children to carry on our legacy?” At Wendy’s horrified look, Peter laughed. “Not soon, of course. After the great war has ended.”
Wendy felt frantic and trapped, like an animal in a cage, wishing more than anything that she could bury her head in her father’s chest and he would take care of this wicked boy once and for all. But there were no grown-ups, no rules; there was no order here. There was just Peter, looking at her hungrily, and Wendy, hands shaking as she tried to maintain her composure in utter despair. She raised her head to look up at the sky, at the darkening clouds that dotted the distant horizon above the sea. She couldn’t wait any longer.
“Tonight.” She turned to him. “Tonight. Meet me by the branch that holds the lantern, long after the boys have gone to sleep. I’ll be waiting for you.” Peter was so excited by this that he fumbled, dropping the musket, for once out of control, belying the maniacal god-child she knew he was. But then he was back, calmly picking up the musket and walking up to Wendy. The smell of him, once so seductive, was now repulsive. Instead of leaves and spice, he smelled now like muddy earth, decay, and death.
She raised her eyes to meet his. “Tonight. And make yourself ready for me as well.” She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t sure what that meant. Good. She reached up, kissing his cheek softly, her teeth clenched so hard that she felt a shot of pain bounce off her jaw. “Everything must be perfect.”
“I will. It will be perfect.” He kissed her hard on the lips, and she stayed perfectly still, furious at the way her lips rose underneath his, the way her skin tingled with fire. Booth. Booth. She repeated the words in her mind as Peter kissed her. Finally, he pulled away, his boyish face elated. She bit her tongue to keep from crying and clutched her shaking fists. “I’ll go. And I’ll be waiting for you. My darling. I can’t wait for you to be all mine.” He turned away from her. “And it looks like there will be a storm. I’ll bring extra blankets.”
“Thank you.”
He soared up and away from her, and soon she heard the happy notes of his pan pipe flitting through the tree. Wendy began making her way back to her hut. She had much to do and very little time to do it in.
Dusk came quickly, as if it were also trying to outrun the storm that courted its nightly turn-in. Wendy’s body shuddered as a huge thunderclap shook the leaves above her. She peeked her head out of her hut to look up toward the sky. Huge heavy clouds, their billowy breasts flashing with green bursts of lightning, were rolling toward Pan Island. Rain clouds. Her father had not taught her as much about the weather as he had John, but she knew this: those clouds held rain, and lots of it. Perfect. The gray sky above her was thick with moisture, and she felt the first drop of light drizzling rain upon her cheek.