Second Star by J.M. Sullivan

Second Star by J.M. Sullivan

Author:J.M. Sullivan [Sullivan, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Owl Hollow Press, LLC


PETER

In a flash, Peter was on his feet, dagger gripped in his palm. His face contorted in a warning snarl, but it vanished when his eyes fell on a battered, but striking girl. What caught him most off guard were her enormous eyes. The way the sunlight hit them made them jump from honeyed brown to a deep green. She was tall for a girl—tall and slender in a fitted black flying suit. His eyes followed the shape of her uniform to where the soft curve of her neck was framed by soft curls that had escaped their binding. He caught her gaze, and his pulse quickened, making him more vulnerable than he had felt in a long time.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” he demanded, reacting brazenly to the unwanted sensation. The girl continued studying him, her gaze transforming from wary to shrewd. Her eyes flashed and she straightened her posture, raising her chin to command authority.

“Captain Wendy Darling of the Londonierre Brigade.” Her eyes glinted with pride as she held his gaze. She stepped closer to him, asserting dominance with her stance. “We were sent on a mission to locate and recover the crew led by Captain James Hooke.”

Peter’s eyes widened. Hooke’s transmission had made it home. He schooled his face. He didn’t want to display any weakness. This Wendy might be pretty, but she wasn’t going to make him stupid.

“We’ve been here for ages,” Peter said, observing the way the captain’s eyes took in every tiny detail. “Why now?”

Wendy’s breath hitched as a thought struck her. “You were on the Roger,” she said. “You’re one of the men Hooke saved.”

“Pan.” Peter’s face scrunched in distaste. “Peter Pan. And just for the record, that’s not quite what happened.”

Wendy’s brow furrowed, but she continued, commanding authority.

“Very well, Pan. I need you take me to your captain. I am under direct orders of the Expeditionary Fleet to retrieve Hooke and the rest of your crew.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Peter smacked the side of the Fiducia. “You busted your ship. Bang up flying, by the way.”

Wendy bristled. “This coming from a man who has been stranded on an island for a hundred years?” She snapped, piercing him with her hypnotic gaze. “Where’s your ship? Or have you done a bang up job with yours too?” She threw his words back, but Peter hadn’t heard them, his mind had latched onto her previous statement.

“A hundred years?” He strode to stand before her. “We’ve been here for one hundred years?” He tried to steady his voice, but Wendy must have caught the volatile edge lacing his throat. She took a small step forward, locking him in her gaze.

“Per today’s calendar, it is June 23, 2393,” she answered delicately. “The Jolly Roger went off-grid November 2293. If I’m not mistaken, that’s one hundred years. Well, ninety-nine, I guess, if you want to be exact.”

Peter brushed his hair back, head reeling. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset that



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