Page 49 of The Never Queen

“You have my attention.”

There is a war in my gut, one between untenable rage and fear.

Darling has half the Neverland Dark Shadow — she can survive a knife wound. But only if we can get her away from the Witch Killers before it’s too late.

I spent years thinking I had no power, but in this moment, I know what it truly feels like to be powerless.

“What do you want?” I ask.

The woman takes a step back, dragging Darling with her, but I notice her gaze flick over my shoulder, to the shadows clinging to the creek.

“Come forward, Hansel.”

The Witch Killers part for him, and he steps within the loose circle of men and women. There are more weapons sheathed across his chest than before, and a crossbow in his hand.

I notice he isn’t wearing his bone fragment.

“Don’t look at him, Peter Pan. Look at me.”

The woman tightens her grip on the dagger, the sharp point dangerously close to Darling’s chest, to the place where her heart lay beating like a drum.

“There’s the part of this story you know,” the woman says, “and there’s the part of this story you don’t.”

“Then why don’t you tell me.”

Darling swallows, takes in a deep breath through her nose.

“You know what we do: we kill witches. For us, there is no distinction between good or bad. All witches are the latter.”

Bash snorts.

The dagger pierces Darling’s flesh and she grimaces.

“Careful,” the woman says.

“Payla,” Hansel says. “Please.”

“The part you don’t know, likely the one you’re wondering about, is how Hansel fits into this. One of the greatest Witch Killers of all time, the one responsible for killing one of the most powerful witches in all of the realms. The one responsible for harvesting the cursed bone fragments that hang around our necks and render all power unreachable. He made us what we are today. He and his sister. And yet, he would turn on us? For some random mortal girl who somehow charmed the infamous Peter Pan and the Dark One, and the Fae Princes.”

Her arm tightens around Darling.

“Why would Hansel throw everything away for one Darling girl?”

I know why.

But this isn’t how I wanted Darling to find out.

I meet her eyes where tears are glittering beneath her lids. I can’t tell if she’s in pain or if she knows too, all of the secrets crashing down around her.

Merry Darling was not always a madwoman. At one point, she was a gorgeous woman full of life and hunger. And yes, even power.

“Tell her, Hansel.”

The man steps around me, hands aloft. “Don’t hurt her, Payla.”

“Go on.”

“Winnie,” he says, the light of the parking lot catching the sheen of sweat on his brow. He didn’t want it to go down this way either.