Page 43 of The Never Queen

“I meant they love you!”

He can’t argue that one. They do love him.

It’s late afternoon, approaching evening. Peter Pan is still sleeping in the basement. Vane is holding watch from the front porch. I don’t think he’s slept at all. I’m not sure Darling has either.

The skin beneath her eyes is not dark, but translucent, as if all the blood has drained from her face. She’s had three cups of coffee just since I’ve been awake. The last one she spiked with a splash of whisky after Vane mentioned the neighbors and the party we were invited to.

I can’t tell if she wants to go or not. We’re still waiting for Kody or Hansel. We’ll probably give them twenty-four hours before we go looking ourselves. So we might as well pass the time.

But Darling keeps getting this distant, lost look on her face like she’s trapped in a memory or a daydream.

Sometimes I forget that she lived half a mortal lifetime in this place, with its loud fucking cars and its polluted air and diluted magic.

There is magic in the mortal realm, but if it were currency, its value is considerably diminished. Some of that is changing. Mostly because of the work of women. But will it ever compare to Neverland? Probably not.

The longer Darling is with us in Neverland, the more I come to think of her as having always been there.

The chips are gone in record time with me eating them and Darling frowns into the empty bag. “I have an idea,” she says.

“All ears.” I lick the salt from my fingertips.

“Let’s order food.”

“Now you’re talking.”

One thing the mortal realm does have over us Neverlanders is a nifty little app that lists any kind of food you could ever want that a person will then deliver straight to your door. Truly revolutionary. I keep telling Pan we need to devise a similar system back on Neverland. I love to cook and bake, but sometimes my stomach is impatient, and I need food right now.

We have one phone between the five of us that comes with us when we cross over and Darling lifts it from the counter behind her, tapping in the code. She’s much better at technology than the rest of us, so she’s our designated smart phone operator.

“What do we feel like?” she asks, scrolling through the list. “Mexican. Italian. Chinese. Thai.”

“Mexican!” Kas yells from the living room.

Darling glances up at me. “I could always go for a plate of nachos.”

“Do they deliver margaritas?”

She checks the phone again. “Yes.”

“Sold.”

She inputs her order, then mine. Kas gets a burrito. Vane orders steak fajitas. Peter Pan never eats but we order him a spicy margarita.

“Oh I am looking forward to this,” Darling says once the order is submitted. “It’s been a while since I had a proper margarita. Tequila is the one liquor you guys don’t have on Neverland. Which is the greatest tragedy I’ve ever suffered.”

“We can buy a few bottles,” I tell her, nestling myself in between her thighs. “Take them back with us. But we need…what are those things. The spiny blade thingies?”

Darling laughs. “A blender?”

“Yes, that.”

I lift her off the counter, and she wraps her legs around my waist so I can carry her back to the living room. “I have a new knot for you.”

“Oh?” Her hair hangs in my face, and I bump into the doorway from the kitchen to the living room and Darling laughs. “What kind of knot?”

“It’s called the Naughty Girl hitch.”

“You just made that up.”