Rise of the Lost Prince by London Saint James

Author:London Saint James [James, London Saint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Vapor and Vibe flanked Petúr as they headed back to the castle, the two of them doing a fist bump with each other. “Way to make those old dudes shake in their boots, Vape.”

“Shake? More like piss their pants.” Vapor laughed before woo-hooing. “God. I love this scare the humans shit.”

“I may have,” said Vibe, Wink. Wink. “implanted the suggestion Neverland was haunted. So I doubt we see those surveyors again.”

“Don’t celebrate our victory too soon,” said Petúr. “We may have scared off Cromwell’s men this time, but more will come.”

Vibe glanced at Petúr from the corner of his eye. “Speaking of our old buddy. What are you going to do about his daughter?”

“Something I imagine she’s not going to like.”

****

“You can’t do this,” Wyndi insisted, stomping her foot in the middle of the kitchen.

“I can, and I will,” Petúr said, eyes burning like liquid gold.

Dash started studying the newspaper he hadn’t been reading. And was Tera whistling as he walked off? Men.

“I refuse to be some kind of prisoner, Petúr.”

“On that note,” said Firefox, placing a massive bowl of scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. “I’m outta here.”

Petúr made a derisive sound, glancing down at her. “Prisoner? Really?”

“Okay. Maybe not a prisoner in the actual sense of the word, but—”

“I’m freakin’ hungry,” said Vapor, grabbing up a plate of bacon. “So, you two fight away. I’m still eating.”

“Me, too,” said Byte. “Pass the toast, Vape my man.”

“Grapple is after you, Wyndi.” Petúr said, ignoring all of his brothers. “And in case you’ve forgotten the incident in your parking lot, he’s not someone who you want on your trail.”

“No,” she said, quietly, picturing the swarm of darklings coming out of the shadows. A shiver spiraled down her spine. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“I can better protect you here.”

“I can’t stay in Neverland indefinitely, Petúr. I have a business to run, and I can’t go missing without word.”

He crossed his arms, biceps bulging. Get a grip, she thought. They were having an argument in the middle of the kitchen, with witnesses. Was it weird she wanted to lick the right well-formed muscle and then the left?

“You’re not leaving the castle,” he said, lines of tension branching out from the corners of his devastatingly gorgeous eyes. “End of story.”

The man was stubborn. Well, two could play that game.

She crossed her arms, doubting the gesture to be as impressive. “I at least need to go home for a little while.”

He gave one terse shake of his head. “Not happening.”

“I won’t stay long. I’ll do what I need to then come back.”

“Nope.”

Wyndi heaved a sighed. Exasperated. “I need to make some calls, get my assistant manager to fill in at the bar, have Sven cover for Bell, and shift servers around on the floor.” She glanced down at herself. “Not to mention, I don’t have any clothing here and I can’t flit around in your T-shirts all the time.”

He smirked, glancing down the length of her body. “Why not? I enjoy the way you look in my T-shirts.

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