Rise of the Lost Prince (14 page)

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Authors: London Saint James

BOOK: Rise of the Lost Prince
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“I’m not missing out. I’m going
with you,” said Bell.

“Me, too,” Wyndi said, standing.

“You are staying here,” Petúr
said, looking down at her with that determination she was coming to recognize.

“No,” she snapped, hands going to
her hips. “I’m not.”

****

When
it rains, it pours
,
Petúr thought darkly, seeing Cromwell Darlinghart, and his body guard on the
monitors in front of him—the two breezing past the ticket booth.

“Daddy,” Wyndi said in a small
voice. “He’s here.” Then she snapped her spine straight and headed out of the
control room, a woman on a mission.

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to my father.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said,
catching her.

Her struggles only made his
manhood form a stiff resolve.

“Let me go, Petúr.”

“Nope.”

She exhaled. “I want to talk with
him.”

“You are supposed to be at a spa.
Relaxing. How are you going to explain being in Neverland?”

She reached up and patted his
cheek. “Trust me.”

Damn
it.
He would probably regret this… “I’m going out there with you.”

“Me, too,” said Vibe, joining
them.

“Fine,” she said as Petúr let
loose of her. “But let me handle this.”

 

‘Handling this’ was Wyndi running
up to her father and throwing her arms around his neck.

“Wyndi?” Cromwell asked, shock
and confusion playing over the features of his face. “What on earth are you
doing here?”

She let go of him and took a step
back, grabbing Petúr’s hand. The acknowledgement did something queer to his
heart.

“Daddy. This is Petúr.”

Cromwell frowned up at him. “Who
in the hell is Petúr?”

“My boyfriend,” she said, sweet
as pie. “And this is Petúr’s brother.” She pointed. “Vibe.”

Vibe nodded.

“We’ll discuss the boyfriend
thing later,” Cromwell grumbled, returning his attention to his daughter. “But,
why are you here?” He waved his hand around. “In Neverland?”

“I want you to give me
Neverland,” she said.

Petúr blinked.

“What?” her father bellowed.

Wyndi nodded, strands of her
autumn colored hair shimmering like spun silk in the sun. “I want you to give
me Neverland. Petúr and I want to restore it. Turn it back into a working
amusement park.”

Pride washed through him. His
woman wanted to help him keep his home.

Cromwell bristled. Cleared his
throat. “This place is worth more having the park cleared and—”

“I know,” she said, cutting him
off. “Your beach front condo project. But Neverland is an Oceanport landmark,
and it should be preserved, not destroyed.”

“I think this is something we
need to talk about in private.” His beady brown eyes narrowed as he looked
toward Petúr, then over to Vibe, then back to Wyndi.

“No,” she said. “I want to talk
about this here and now.”

“Listen here young lady,” he
said, voice gruff, and Petúr didn’t like it. He snarled at the asshole.

Wyndi squeezed his hand, as if to
rein him in. “Mom always wanted to restore Neverland.”

“Don’t bring your mother into
this. She left me, and I don’t want to discuss her.”

“She died, Dad.”

Cromwell turned beet red in the
face. “That’s leaving, Wyndi.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“No!”

Petúr stepped forward. “Don’t
speak to her that way.”

The body guard stepped forward as
well.

“I will speak to my daughter any
way I please.”

“No. You won’t,” said Petúr.

“Stop,” Wyndi said, tugging his
hand. She let loose of him and walked to her father. “I want you to give me
Neverland. You can build your condos somewhere else.” Her eyes were pleading.
“Tell me now. Will you do this for me? For the memory of Mom?”

Cromwell’s face went stony. “No.”

She reached up and touched his
cheek, tears streaming down her own. “Then, I’m sorry.”

She turned and looked at Vibe
with watery eyes. “Convince him to sign Neverland over to me.”

Petúr was speechless—shock
radiating through his bones.

The body guard took a clearly protective
stance in front of Cromwell, expecting some type of physical convincing. Vibe
broke a smile, never moving an inch, and did his thing, the heat wave hitting
the man.

“What’s going on?” Cromwell
spluttered when his burly protector turned around, dazed, and walked away.

“I’m going to ask one last time,
Daddy. Will you give me Neverland?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” Wyndi said again,
going to Petúr’s side.

He tugged his darling woman of
heart into his hold, absorbing her shakes, as his brother worked his mind-magic
on her father.

****

Jackpot!
Kros smiled
evilly, hands steepled in front of his face, fingertips, tapping fingertips. Trailing
Cromwell Darlingheart’s comings and goings paid off. The ridiculously rich
human unknowingly led death to his only daughter’s doorstep. And, if being led
straight to the woman wasn’t absolutely fanfuckingtastic, this freaking bonus
sure was—Neverland wasn’t just some random place for Petúr to hide out with the
human woman, but the place the lost boys called home.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Bell may only be five-foot-two
but she felt six feet tall as she took the lead—her black over the knee
platform boots
thwap-thwap-thwapp
ing
on concrete, seeing people gawk, hearing faint whispers, and knowing what those
humans saw was probably close to being in attendance at Cosplay.

She whipped her hair over her
slender shoulder, rockin’ her brand new hot pink streaks which Tera, fairy
godmother love him, helped put in. For an odd combination of warrior and
brainiac, he also had a sensitive side.

“Don’t you just love my hair?”
Bell threw out the question to anyone really.

“It’s sexy, little bit,” Vibe
said.

She smiled. “Thank you.” Her
streaks matched her lacy pink backless top and pleated skirt.

Behind her, all of the hulking
lost boys, minus Tera and Byte, who stayed at the castle with Wyndi, trailed up
the sidewalk toward the Delta Sigma Phi house. Petúr was clad in his signature
black gothic couture. Dash was dressed in full-on biker leathers. Vibe appeared
to be Mr. Bang-Pow-Boom in his dove grey Armani suit. Firefox was wearing his
waistcoat and trousers with his own unique version of steampunk flair. And
Vapor was in those too tempting low-slung jeans, showing off his bicep tatts
with the sleeveless shirt he wore. They were no doubt something to see.

She heard some busty strawberry
blonde utter, “You guys in a band or something?”

“Sure are, darlin’,” Vapor said.

As covers go, Bell guessed being
in a band was as good as any.

“Can I get your autograph?”

Everyone stopped
en masse
as the girl ran toward them,
breasts bouncing beneath her sorority T-shirt.

Bell rolled her eyes.
Males.

“I’d be happy to give you my
autograph, but I don’t have a pen.”

“Oh,” she said, breathy. “I do.”

Seriously? She pulled a black
marker from the book bag hanging off her shoulder.

Vapor took it. His grin getting
wider. “What do you want me to sign?”

“This,” said the girl, tugging up
her shirt and exposing two large breasts almost overflowing the tiny lace
bra—rosy nipples showing through.

Vapor, not missing a beat, pulled
the top off the marker with his teeth, and signed his name with flourish across
her chest. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

He winked at her, capped the
marker, and handed it back. She giggled.

“Can I have a kiss, too?”

“My pleasure,” Vapor said,
grabbing her up and laying one on her.

When he let her go, the girl
appeared starry-eyed, and sort of stumbled off saying, “Wowzers” under her
breath.

“Damn. Maybe we should enroll in
college,” Firefox said, watching her go with a glint of fire in his umber eyes.

“Uh, guys?” Bell called, snapping
her fingers. They turned and looked at her. “Things to do other than the busty
co-eds.”

“She’s right,” said Petúr. And he
was the only one of the males who looked as if he cared less about the
flesh-fest. “We’re here for Trent.”

That’s all it took, everyone fell
back into step, marching up the walk to the frat house.

“Bell?”

She should have known: Blain.
Blain….
what was his last name?
Never
mind. Blain something-or-other answered the door.

A shark’s grin overtook him as he
gave her the once over. “I knew my persistence would wear you down. Did you
like the flowers I sent?”
What flowers?
“Sven told me you were out sick, so I—”

“Listen, junior league,” said
Vibe. “Bell didn’t get the flowers, and more importantly, you’re not going to
be sending any more.”

That’s when Blain noticed him and
his jaw dropped. “Who are you?” he managed.

“The man who’s going to kick your
frat-boy ass if you keep hitting on Bell.”

Bell blinked and glanced up at
him. Vibe put his arm around her shoulders, and to say she was flabbergasted
would be an understatement.

“Look, Blain,” she said,
returning her attention to him. She’d consider Vibe’s whole he-man protector
thing later. “We need to speak with Trent.”

The corners of Blain’s mouth
turned down and he got fidgety. “Haven’t you heard? It’s been all over the news
this evening, and you just missed the cops.”

“Heard what?”

“They found his body tangled in
the rocks at the bluff.” Blain’s voice quieted. “They say he jumped.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Blain shook his head,
then worried his stubbled jaw with his fingers. “What did you want to talk to
Trent about? Were you two friends or something?”

“Band business,” Vapor said.

“Band business?” The confusion on
Blain’s face morphed into another gaping jaw when he stepped out onto the
massive porch of the frat house and saw all her accompanying lost boys.

“Vibe,” Petúr said. “We’re done
here. Do your thing.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

There was an edge to Vibe’s reply
which had her wondering how much mind-bending he intended to do on Blain.

****

Wyndi was going to kill him.
Well, after she knew for sure Petúr was home safe, she was going to kill him.

“Settle down, luv,” said Byte.
“You’ve been pacing so much you’re going to wear the shine off the floors.”

“I can’t believe he left me
here.”

Tera frowned. “What did you
expect? Petúr will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And right now, you’re
just not safe out in the world.”

“I guess. But, when I told him I
was going, he didn’t argue with me like he did earlier. Instead, he told me to
go get ready.” She put her hands on her hips. “Then I come out, dressed in
this.” She waved her hand down the front of her black shirt and stretchy jeans
combo. “And, he was gone.” She sighed. “He took everyone, even Bell, and left
me here.”

“Not everyone,” said Tera. “We’re
here.”

“I know.” She glanced down. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s all right. No need for
apologies.”

She shuffled over and sat down in
the chair between the twins, arms and legs flailing. “It’s just… I don’t want
to be the little woman.”

“The little woman?”

“You know. The weak human
everyone needs to keep an eye on and protect. I want to be able to contribute.”

Byte smiled. “We heard how you
took down the big guy with a well-placed knee.”

Tera sucked air through his
teeth, grimacing and cupping himself.

Her brows flew up into her
hairline. “You did?”

Byte nodded. “And we saw how you
handled your father. I’d say that’s not a little woman in need of protecting,
or one who doesn’t contribute. Because of you, Neverland is still home.”

She cracked a half smile at that.
“Thanks.”

“No problem, luv.”

Red lights lit up the panel on
the console.

“We’ve got an alarm going off on
the north end of the park. Over by the rollercoaster,” said Tera.

She glanced up at the monitors.
“Do you see what set off the alarm?”

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