Page 65 of The Never Queen

“What’s our best way in?” Pan ducks down so he can see the warehouse beneath the canopy of trees. We’re on a hill with the warehouse down below where the land flattens to the river.

I point to a man door on the backside of the building. “We haven’t seen someone come in and out of there. I think our best bet is that way.”

“Hansel.” Vane turns to the other man. “You good?”

Hansel straightens and rubs his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “Yeah. All good.”

“Any advice to combat your sister?”

“She’s best in close quarters, hand-to-hand combat. She’s really good with a knife.”

“Got it,” I say. “So don’t let her stab me.”

His attention still on the warehouse, Pan asks, “How many of the Order does she have with her?”

“She usually travels with a regiment of twelve.”

“And you killed how many the other night?”

“Seven. She’ll have called for reserves.”

“So we can assume twelve again?” Vane says.

“Likely. Maybe more at this point, now that she knows I’ve defected.”

“Will you be able to kill her if it comes to it?” I ask, knowing a thing or two about going to war with your own blood. I never wanted to harm my sister, but there were moments when I really wanted to hurt her.

But if Hansel has any such reservations on it, he doesn’t show it.

“I denied myself a family for a very long time,” Hansel says. “My allegiance to my sister is deep, and stretches back into the mists of time. We have always placed each other first. So I don’t find it surprising that the moment she found out I had another family, she decided they all had to die. Magic or not.” He pulls his dagger from its sheath at his chest and wipes it down, testing its efficiency. “So to answer your question, will I be able to kill her? Yes. Our mission was always to kill bad witches. Gretel no longer follows that simple law. Merry and Winnie are not bad, they are not evil. They are nothing like the witch that lured us into her candy house and tried to slaughter us for her dinner plate. And I’m no longer willing to pretend that every witch is as equally wicked.”

“Well, all right then.” Stone in pocket, I open my wings and am relieved to feel fae magic swirling in my veins. Maybe we’re still outside the sphere of the Witch Killers’ magic bones, but I’ll know one way or another soon enough. “Let’s go kick some Witch Killer ass.”

33

WINNIE

I go down immediately, blood coating my mouth.

My head is ringing, but I can hear Mom objecting, asking for mercy.

As I breathe through the pain and the bouncing ache behind my eyes, my mind is a whir of possibilities. I could take a beating for a while and hope that Pan and the boys, by some miracle, find us. I could fight back, but Gretel is a killer, honed by years of experience and training.

When I first landed on Neverland and Pan made it clear that he and the Lost Boys were not allowed to touch me, in any way, I knew exactly what I needed to do to get beneath his skin: manipulate them into touching me.

Gretel might pretend she’s above manipulation, that she’s not so easily read. But everyone has a weakness.

I just need to slow down and think rationally. I can figure out hers, where a crack might exist that I can exploit and pry open.

“Please!” Mom is shouting.

There’s a reason Gretel hasn’t killed me yet. If that was her sole objective, I’d already be dead. Which means she’s using me for something else. Maybe to call in Pan and the boys.

I think she’s buying time as much as I am.

“Just tell me what you want,” I say from my spot on the floor, pretending I’ve already had enough.

I imagine she thinks me weak like everyone else. Always underestimated.