Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (64 page)

Strong masculine arms held her and she swayed gently against a smooth chest whose nocturnal scent was as familiar to her as her own.

Did this mean he was also dead?  Or had he merely been conjured here for her pleasure - the Long Shadow she'd wanted him to be.  A fitting eternal reward.

Numbness from the poison Christophe had given her appeared to be receding, but that didn't concern her.  She hadn't imagined going through the afterlife with no feeling.

She still expected to make love - as she had in her corporal existence - but now it would be as a sacrament, a devotional duty. 

Orgasm had been her own personal prayer, her way of touching God.  She imagined she would now have that pleasure for all time, together with a peace in her soul she'd only come close to for a brief time with the man who now held her.

As though listening into her thoughts, he said, "I'm here, Wendee.  It's all right."

Dee felt... surprise.  Telepathy was quite acceptable in her own personal heaven, but Long Shadow's voice had been hoarse, as though strained with the exertion of carrying her. 

It had sounded realistic...
life-like
.  Still, she would not let it touch the tranquil acceptance within her.  She was dead.  Christophe had given her the poison.  She had faith in that.

"Almost there," he grunted and she felt the body that housed her spirit being hoisted a little against his chest.

Almost where
? she wondered with detached interest.  The pearly gates?

Perhaps she should open her eyes.  She might never see this again.

"Time for me to split," another voice said, and Dee felt her tranquillity waver.

That had sounded like Christophe?  Was he dead too?

A moment of confusion rippled her sea of calm.  This wasn't what she'd imagined.

Indoctrinated by an early Christian upbringing, she'd naively expected a monogamous afterlife.  Not...

Was she to share her eternity with all the people she'd not been able to admit she loved while she was alive?  Would she have sex with any of them?  All of them?  Who else would be here with Long Shadow and Christophe?  Skye?  Xavion?  Pietre?

Billy
?

Long Shadow felt the woman in his arms tense.  He looked down at her expectantly, but her eyes were closed.  Still unconscious.

"It's now or never," Christophe said.

Long Shadow looked up, saw the way Christophe was gazing at Wendee, and felt shamed.

Out of innocent idealism, Christophe was letting her go, giving her to someone he believed would love her more - would give her a better life.

It was bravery beyond what Long Shadow felt himself capable of.  He could no more give Wendee to another man than he could honour her spirit by finding love with another woman.  Christophe, he knew, would do both.  To make Wendee happy.

Was she going with the right man?

"Look after her."  Christophe touched her cheek, frowned up at Long Shadow.

"I promise," he said, meaning it.  "And thanks, Chris.  I appreciate what you've done."

"I did it for her."

"I know."

“And you’ll keep you end of the bargain?”

They looked at each other for a moment, then Long Shadow said, "Okay, my back is turned."  He set off along the beach again, hefting his precious burden a little higher in his arms.

Behind himself he heard a scrambling noise, then nothing.  There was only the sound of his own footfalls in the sliding sand - sand much darker than that of the island they'd left.

There was a coastal settlement up ahead somewhere, Christophe had told him.  Only another kilometre or two. 

Long Shadow trudged on, arms aching, growing numb from the strain, legs weakening.

Eventually he faltered, his foot sticking in the clinging sand, pitching him forward, but he righted himself at the last moment.  Before he dropped Wendee.

You are a warrior
, he scolded himself in his Grandfather's voice. 
You must be strong.  You must have courage
.

"Strong.  Courage," he muttered as he staggered on.  Then came a faint noise that grew louder with a whooshing of wind.  A helicopter.

With a spurt of adrenalin, Long Shadow's limbs jerked into action.  He spun on a heel to see the heavy metal bird rounding the point he had just traversed.  Turning a circle, he looked for a hiding place, but there was none. 

He was close to the waterline.  The shelter of trees was too far for a sprint even with fresh legs.  The noise was growing louder, the wind was lifting his hair, sending water spray in all directions.

Falling to his knees, he clutched Wendee to himself as the helicopter landed in front of him.  DeMartande would have to kill him to get Wendee out of his arms.

Squinting against the spray-soaked wind, he saw figures emerge from the helicopter, running towards him.  His arms tightened convulsively.

Two men.  One was carrying a case.  The other looked... familiar. 

"Sorry it took us so long, kid," he shouted as they crouched in front of him.  "You all right?"

Long Shadow bowed his head.  His whole body sagged with relief.  He wanted to cry. 

"Is this Dr Williams?" Sark asked.  "Is she hurt?"

The man with the case took her wrist, felt for a pulse.

Long Shadow was looking down into Wendee's face when Sark said, "DeMartande slipped the net, but don't worry.  We'll get him."

Her eyes opened.  Not fluttering as though rising from deep slumber.  But with deliberation.  They stared straight into Long Shadow’s, and over the aching of his limbs, he realised what these words would mean to her.

"I'll take her, Agent Long Shadow," the medic said, and Long Shadow watched her eyes close.  Another man with a stretcher had arrived and he helped the medic ease her out of Long Shadow's arms.

"We caught your hacker up the beach," Sark said and Long Shadow dragged his attention from where they were arranging Wendee on the stretcher, covering her nakedness with a sheet.

"Christophe?"

"You might have turned your back," Sark said, casting him a cynical glance, "but we didn't."

Long Shadow felt himself go very still.  "How did you know..."

Sark tapped Long Shadow's ear.  "Got a bug in your ear, kid.  That's how we traced you.  Heard every word you said."

"Every word," Long Shadow echoed. 
Every
word?

"Standard procedure." 

"But no-one said - "

"Didn't want to inhibit you, kid."  Sark gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet.  "Come on.  Your hacker buddy was right.  There's a village up ahead.  You'll see him when we get there."

Long Shadow let himself be led to the helicopter, got in beside Sark.  Wendee was behind them but her eyes were closed again. 

Had he imagined her looking at him like that?  "I thought you'd air-lift us back to - "

"Not until DeMartande's in custody," Sark said, strapping himself in. 

"But what if - "

"We're staying at the village," Sark said in his don't-argue voice.  "It's only an hour to Moresby by car.  Ten minutes by chopper.  Relax.  Your girlfriend's safe."

But am I
? Long Shadow thought.  The helicopter lurched and he hastily buckled his seat belt - found his fingers were trembling. 

Sark had heard every word he'd said on the island.  Everything he'd said to Wendee, to DeMartande, to Christophe...