Lost In Lies (2 page)

              I feel Justin's arms around me, and I open my eyes, “Didn’t I already teach you how to fly?”

              “The 10-second instructions to get on the ship doesn’t qualify as a lesson,” my defeated voice whimpers.

              “It’s on the to-do list then,” he chuckles as an arrow zooms beside us, “right after surviving this round.”

              Halfway smiling, I allow him to maneuver us gracefully through the warfare. As quickly as he can, Justin lands us back aboard our ship on the top deck where Aiden, Eiden, and Belle seem to be defending, yet Peter can’t be found.

              I’m burning to ask Justin about the information I just received but am immediately denied with a shake of his head. Unclear as to why, I make to argue back, receiving a very clear and precise “not now” spoken by his eyes. I’m hoping he’s got an attitude about my need for answers because we’re fending for our lives right now and not because he’s in one of his has-to-keep-his-Lost-Boy-oath moments.

              “And where exactly is our captain?” Justin snaps, slipping the dagger in his back pocket.

              Tossing a weapon to him, Eiden grumbles, “Something about an idea. He asked us to hold down the ship for a minute so he could make a distraction for our getaway.”

              Like the warrior I’m learning he is, Justin raises the crossbow and begins firing at Dark Watchers like in a bad carnival game. Mumbling, he grunts, “Make a distraction? Getaway? The last getaway plan he came up with landed us in that sand prison for three days!”

              “Don’t remind me. I had sand in places I didn’t know existed,” Aiden calls out from behind something that looks like an oversized gun, but instead of typical, brass-colored bullets, they are white and sparkle like ice crystals, reminding me of what Justin said before I was kidnapped—we wouldn’t want Lola hurt or I guess Alex either. Heaven forbid Peter hurts his own flesh and blood.

              “Sand prison?” My voice quivers.

              “Remember the worms,” Eiden inputs.

              “And those crabs,” Aiden recalls, his attention not diverting from his targets.

              “How could I forget?” Justin shakes his head, firing as well. “I had so many poison bruises across my body that it took Tyger days to heal me.”

              Eiden pauses for a minute and looks at Justin, “Didn’t she send her little sister to take care of you?”

              “And didn’t the two of you spend the week on that secluded island?” Aiden puts his weapon down for a moment.

              Justin smirks, pulling the trigger, his attention never leaving the enemy ship, “Told you I couldn’t forget ...”

              Clearing her throat, Belle snaps them out of their reverie, causing Aiden and Eiden to get back on the defensive. She tosses me a crossbow, “Now would be a good time to see what you’re made of.”

              Shaky, like it was the first time I ever picked one of these up, I allow Justin’s familiar words to ring in my ear as I dodge behind a pillar from an arrow. It’s just like a video game. With my back against the pillar, I lean around and quickly fire a bolt, landing it directly in the stomach of one of our foes. Immediately, he goes down, and I remember: I’m now a Lost Boy. I’m going to be doing this quite often.

              “Week on an island, huh?” I shoot again as Justin’s face winces, wishing he hadn’t let all that information slip.

              “It was a long time ago,” Justin tries to justify, reloading.

              “It was like six months ago,” Belle states, refusing to let Justin get away from the lie.

              “That’s a long time for me,” he tries to get himself out of the hole he’s dug. Quickly releasing his arrow, he states, “It’s over, though. Completely.”

              Cockily, Peter lands on deck, wraps his arm around Belle, and asks, “Is everyone having fun?”

              “Just a blast,” Justin ducks as a bullet grazes the collar of his jacket that I’m not a hundred percent sure I remember him wearing before. Annoyed, he yells, “That’s the second one they’ve ruined since this started!”

              “Might I suggest you stop having wardrobe changes in the middle of a battle?” Peter slides a lollipop in his mouth.

              “As soon as you stop having snack time,” Justin says, not looking as he fires another round, this time hitting two Watchers with one shot.

              “Hey, the Odd Couple, do you two mind getting us the hell out of here?” I snap loudly as a bullet hits the pillar beside me, causing me to squeal.

              “Aw, what? The newbie doesn’t like warfare? Not excited that being a Lost Boy isn’t all star shine and fairy dust?” Peter’s mocking is followed by a swift kick in the shin from Belle.

              “Enough,” she demands, reloading the chamber on her overheated gun, which resembles a sniper rifle. “Peter, get us out of here.”

              “Don’t worry, baby,” he pecks her with a kiss on the cheek. “Did I mention you look sexy shooting?”

              Her eyes lower into a suspicious glare, “Peter, I swear…”

              “Calm down. We’ll get to make our escape in three ... two ... one ...”

              We watch as an explosion slams against the base of Alex’s ship, causing it to take a giant dip downward. At the sight, we let out guards down, which turns out to be a big mistake. There’s a similar explosion on our ship but on the main deck rather than underneath. Quickly, Justin yanks me out of the way, both of us barely missing the burning debris.

              “We have to get off this ship!” Eiden yells at the top of his lungs.

              “Ya think?!” Everyone snaps at him in unison.

              Fire swarms around us into a dome, preventing us from exiting the ship topside.

              Calmly, Justin says, “They ripped open a hole on the bottom. We can get out that way.”

              “Let’s go!” Peter yells, jogging down the stairs with us behind him.

              Once we’re on the lower level, everyone grabs their bag or, in my case, bags and slides out the hole only moments before the entire ship is swallowed by the monstrous fire.

              Holding onto Justin’s hand, since I’m still uncomfortable with the idea of flying, I try to catch my breath as I ask, “Now what?”

              “Now ...” Peter glances at Belle, who looks slightly disappointed that her return home is delayed. “We fly ...”

              Peter takes off toward Earth with his duffel bag tight in his hand. I watch Belle fly behind him, her pink and gold wings glistening in the night’s light. With defeated looks, Aiden and Eiden get in line to fly behind them, leaving me and Justin in a moment of silence. Nodding, Justin gives my arm a tug and pulls me alongside him as we head back to the planet.              

Chapter 2

              Worn out from my first round of full-fledged flying, I’m thankful when we finally land on an empty beach shore, thanks to Justin’s navigation. To my surprise, Peter let him land us here, without the help of maps or stopping to ask anyone for directions. I mean, who would we stop and ask the pigeons we flew past?

              The minute my feet hit the ground, my body collapses from exhaustion. Between the changes in the air pressure, temperature, and speed, flying isn’t very easy when you aren’t accustomed to it. I don’t know what feels worse, though—the energy the flight drained, when I didn’t have much energy before, or the guilt from the fact that I slowed everyone down.

              Justin instinctively relocates next to me, tosses his bag to the side, and brushes the hair out of my face, “You OK?”

              Barely having any air left to speak, I nod slowly, “I’ll be fine.”

              “Newbie can’t even hold her own in the air. Great. Flying around the world with you will be a blast,” Peter tosses his bag down and rolls his eyes.

              “I’ll learn to hold my own.”

              “We have to slow down missions and plans for you to learn!”

              Tears rising in my eyes, I fight back, “Everyone has to learn sometime, Peter.”

              “Well, thank you for forcing the rest of us to pay for your learning disability!”

              “Could you back off for like five seconds?” Justin stands up and snaps at him.

              “Why? Did I hurt your feelings spouting the truth about this little fantasy accessory you just couldn’t leave home without?” Peter growls back. “Can I suggest the next girl you pick is one that helps instead of hinders!”

              “Watch it.”

              “Watch what?” he yells loudly, his voice bouncing off the ocean water. “She’s useless! She’s utterly useless, Justin! Her whole purpose here is to stroke your ego and challenge my every thought…”

              “When you can complete a thought!”

              “You know what?”

              “Hey!” Belle fires back, dropping her luggage. “Tyson! Holyfield! Enough! Justin, go with Eiden and grab some firewood. Peter and Aiden, go verify where we’ve landed.”

              “Probably a good idea ... since Justin’s mind is so wrapped around Peyton, chances are we landed on the wrong beach,” Peter shoves his hands in his pocket.

              With a balled-up fist, Justin shakes his head slowly, “I swear…”

              “Go!” Belle yells, her wings fluttering so fast they look almost invisible, her face so red it glows in the moonlight, and her patience so nonexistent she might dismember the group right here, right now.

              “Gladly,” Peter grunts and heads off with Aiden innocently following behind.

              Justin tries to shoot me a warm smile, and Belle snaps, “Go! I’ve got her.”

              The two of them retreat toward the grassier area in the opposite direction from Aiden and Peter. Once it’s just the two of us alone, Belle plops down beside me, pulls out a small pink flask from her bag, and slides it over to me.

              “Drink.”

              Knowing better than to challenge Belle, I take the bottle, smell the sweet aroma that reminds me of pink lemonade, and press my lips to it. The ice-cold liquid that feels like water runs down my throat, shutting down the thirst in my system as it travels. Thankful that not only is the thirst gone, but the pain in my aching muscles as well, I sigh, relieved.

              “What is that?”

              “A little bit of water mixed with an herb called Larexerin. It grows in Neverland. It’s used for healing,” she beams proudly before having a small sip herself.

              “Seems like Neverland has lots of herbs with special properties.”

              “That ... that it sure does.” After a beat, she insists, “Don’t worry about Peter. You’ll get used to flying. It’s difficult for most people.”

              A crooked smile tries to grow on my face, “The way Peter talks, he makes it seem like he’s king of the fairies, like he came out of the womb with wings.”

              “Far from it. When I was teaching Peter how to fly, on his first day, he was soaring, got cocky—imagine that—and landed right in a beehive.”

              “Ouch,” I attempt not to chuckle.

              “Yeah! His whole face got swollen, and we couldn’t go anywhere for three days. I used a little healing magic to speed up the process, but his pride was so hurt that he kept making excuses not to get up and go again.” Her description of the story relaxes my shoulders. I like knowing how imperfect Peter is. It makes it seem like he’s only giving me a hard time because, in a way, I remind him of himself, and he only wants me to turn out great like he did. At the same time, I also think Peter is kind of a jerk who doesn’t care about anyone other than himself, so to imagine him putting that much thought and concern into me seems unreasonable or just downright stupid.

              “How’d you two meet anyway?” The question that’s always danced around in my mind seems to have finally found an appropriate time to slip out.

              “Oh wow.” She puts the bottle away and leans back on her palms. “I can’t remember the last time anyone asked me.”

              “That long?”

              “People ask all the time, but when you’re busy conning, the answer doesn’t matter.” Realizing she still didn’t answer my question, she rushes to say, “We were actually on a beach. He was upset over an incident, and so was I. We sat with our feet buried in the sand, listening to the wind howl, gazing at the stars, sharing stories to make each other laugh ...”

              My attention turns toward her, and that’s when I notice for the first time a distant look in her eyes. Past the bright pink eye shadow, past the long eyelashes that have yellow flakes of sparkle in them, past the golden glow of her beauty is something else painted, something else buried. Hope. I’m not sure if it’s hope for the past to come back, hope for the future to be better, or hope that there’s been a reason for all the pain hiding behind her eyes, but I know it’s there.

              “Those times were much easier,” she slowly continues. “There was no treasure to chase, no Dark Watchers to defend ourselves from, no reason to always be on the run. I miss that.”

              “I can imagine,” I pull my knees up to my chest to rest my head. “You know, though, I lived the quiet, simple life like that ... and it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.”

              “And this isn’t either,” she raises her eyebrows at me. “I guarantee it.”

              “Grass really isn’t greener on the other side, is it?”

              She shakes her head as silence falls between us. The sound of familiar voices begins to fill the air.

              “We’re not trying to send smoke signals,” Justin says as he plops down the wood collection. “We’re trying to keep warm. We’re trying…”

              “Too hard,” Peter cuts him off, smirking as obnoxiously as when he was on the ship.

              “Do they have to arrive at the same time?” I mumble.

              Belle rises to her feet, indicating I should do the same before muttering, “Yes.”

              “Where are we?” Justin questions, dusting his hands off as Eiden begins placing rocks in a circle out of a bag I didn’t see him take down.

              Feeling in a better mood, Peter rocks on his toes, “Ask nicely.”

              Justin grinds his teeth, and I place a hand on his back, which releases some tension. Belle folds her arms and demands, “Where are we?”

              Peter begins, “Landlin—”

              “Told you,” Justin shrugs.

              “My father used to stay here for business all the time,” I interrupt.

              “Awesome.” Peter rolls his eyes in sarcasm. He turns to Justin and sighs, “I guess you’re still good for something every now and again.”

              Justin’s response is immediate, “Makes one of us.”

              “Beach camping for the night?” Aiden nods to his brother, hoping to cut down the tension.

              “Seems like the best call since someone’s too tired to keep going,” Peter mocks me as Justin tosses the logs inside the circle. My lips press together as I try to keep a lid on it until he keeps pushing, “It’s not like flying’s hard. It’s not brain surgery or rocket science. Hell, it’s not like trying to ace the SATs.”

              “Well, I’d rather not run the risk of flying myself into a beehive, if that’s OK with you.” My words stun him and raise eyebrows all around, except for Belle, who’s innocently looking up at the stars.

              Flustered, he adjusts his shirt, “Can you two light the fire already, so we can get some rest?”

              “Patience,” Justin mumbles, stacking the logs.

              “Is for those who can’t work fast enough.”

              “Is the companion of wisdom. Saint Augustine,” Justin says, rising to his feet before setting the logs on fire. Glancing over at Peter with a crooked grin, he snubs, “Obviously.”

              Seeing where this is headed, Belle intervenes, “Let’s all just rest up and start back out in the morning, all right?” Grabbing Peter’s hand, she leads him a little to the left, away from the group, but close enough to be warmed by the fire, and sits down. Once he’s spread out a blanket, the two of them prop their heads on their duffel bags. Peter inches his hand over to Belle’s, where he folds it with hers as they become quiet to the world.

              After a quick good night and a wave, Aiden and Eiden wander off to the right, making sure to position their blankets close, but not too close, together before shutting down their bodies for what I assume is also much-needed rest.

              Justin and I are closest to the fire and the water, for that matter. Sweetly, he spreads out a blanket from his bag, uses a couple of his dress shirts stuffed with undershirts to create us pillows, and then uses the blanket I packed from my bag to cover us. My head rests on the pillow as his arm instinctively tosses itself around me, as if to protect me from anything that might come after me.

              Feeling the cool ocean air sweep over me, I shiver, which is when Justin pulls me in closer, “I gotcha.”

              A smile slides across my face, “That you do.” My eyes uncontrollably fall closed as I whisper, “That you do.”

              The sound of the ocean waves fills my ears as the morning sunlight sweeps onto my face much too soon. Between the chilled air startling me awake, memories from this last year with my parents, who I’ll probably never see again, and sleeping on a sand mattress, much rest hasn’t accrued. The knocking of the waves in my eardrums causes me to take a slow, long, deep breath in and roll over so that Justin’s forehead is against mine.

              With a smile, I open my eyes and whisper, “Good morning.”

              “Any morning I wake up next to you, it will be,” he sweetly coos back, his finger stroking my face.

              “That should be every morning then.”

              “Indeed.”

              Justin smiles and leans over to press his lips against mine when the sound of someone clearing his throat tosses a wrench in the situation. Slightly annoyed, we pull our heads up to see Peter above us, grinning irritatingly.

              He gives a minor wave followed by an eyebrow raise, “Well, don’t you two look comfy.”

              “We were,” Justin mumbles and rises up onto his elbows.

              “Did I ruin that?” Peter says in a sarcastic tone. “My, oh my, how sorry I am.”

              Doing his best not to start the day off in another battle of quips, Justin merely asks, “What’s up?”

              “Belle’s hungry. Thought it’d be a great idea for us to grab some breakfast.”

              “Fishing?” I furrow my eyebrows. “For breakfast?”

              “Who eats fish for breakfast?”

              “Well, I assumed since we were right next to the ocean—”

              “You know what they say about assuming,” Peter’s voice sounds like it might go into one of Justin’s quotes, yet instead, he rambles, “it makes an ass out of you.”

              My jaw slides open as Justin sits all the way up, “And me. It makes an ass out of you and me.”

              “Fine, both of you, whatever.” Peter shrugs and continues, “I don’t have any plans of swimming out into the middle of the ocean looking for Nemo to fry up for breakfast, so I was hoping Justin could do what he does best.”

              “Dress better than you?” I snap back, feeling this is only one more leg in our marathon of sarcasm. Peter shoots me a quick glare, and I pretend to be dumb for a moment, “Oh, you mean run a con?”

              “Very good, princess.” Peter rolls his eyes at me.

              Proudly Justin stands up, dusts his pants off, pops the collar of his shirt, and uses his foot to kick up his fedora before smiling, “Gladly.”