5. Tink

Ungh. Who dropped a fucking three-story house on my head? Or was it a bridge? A tower?

Fucking hurts.

I'm jostled around and the pain sends flashes of light behind my eyes. I fight whoever's got his paws on me, but all I get is a freefall and crash-landing on… a soft surface.

It bounces.

A bed. Oh, fuck. I don't fucking like beds. They are omens of bad, bad things.

On cue, a slap to my cheek snaps my head to the side, and fucking ow. "What?" I demand, my voice coming our slurred. "Fuck."

"Rise and shine, Tinker," a familiar voice says and I blink at an upside-down face. It's familiar, too, to suit the voice.

I groan. "Get out of my sight, Wes."

"He's all right," Wes gives his diagnosis, disappearing from view. "Bastard halfling is hard to kill."

"Not that Peter doesn't try often enough lately," Colt replies.

The Twins.

I'm still trying to figure out whether standing up is a good idea and they are making out, obviously not overly concerned about me. Colt has his hands in Wes' short blond hair and is eating out his mouth hungrily. Wes is giving back as good as he gets, growling as he grips Colt's shoulders, kissing him hard, pressing him against the wall.

Sexy assholes.

They keep dragging me over to join them. As if that will ever happen.

Rolling on my side, I make an attempt at sitting and the second time, I manage it. With a groan, I pinch the bridge of my nose. "The fuck. Peter tried to kill me again?"

"His patience is on its last legs," Wes says.

They have stopped kissing, and now Wes is leaning against the bedroom wall, arms folded over his chest, a smirk on his stupid face. Colt stands beside him, one hand braced on the wall, his dark gaze on Wes as if he's about to turn him around and fuck him right now.

It wouldn't be the first time they quit a conversation to fuck.

"You've been saying that for decades." I rub at the back of my skull. Everything hurts.

"And you're getting more annoying by the day."

I let my hand drop. Rubbing isn't helping, anyway. "Well, thanks, asshole. What happened to accepting people as they are?"

He shrugs. "That works, unless they are annoying dipshits like you."

"I was only doing his bidding. ‘Tink, go after her. Tink, bring her back.' I brought her back and what do I get in thanks?" I lift my hand and uncurl my middle finger in Peter's general direction. "Thrown against the wall, getting my brain rattled, that's what."

"To be fair, there isn't much brain in there to rattle," Colt points out and I resist the urge to punch him because, ow, head hurts, and I need to sit still for a while.

"Fuck you," I mutter, just to let him know how much I don't appreciate the comment.

"Come on, Tink. You were making out with her," Wes says, shifting so that his hip is pressed to Colt's. "What did you expect?"

"Bullshit. You call that making out? I only held her down."

Wes grins. "And she liked it."

I roll my eyes. "Not my fault she did, is it?"

"You liked it, too."

"That…" I shake my head. "It's the goddamn truth."

"And you knew Peter would get pissed," Wes goes on.

Fuck, my head…"I can't always guess what will set Peter off, okay? He's pissed all the goddamn time."

"Point," Colt concedes.

"Shut up," Wes mutters. "He might hear you. Or do you wanna feel his wrath, too?"

"This isn't okay," I breathe, tucking my hair behind my ears. "We joined him voluntarily and now he's acting like a dictator."

"Nothing is okay," Wes says, "if it has escaped your attention. He's been getting worse. Unstable. His magic is leaking all over the place."

"Doesn't mean it's all right," I grumble.

"And what would you have us do instead?" Colt demands, dark eyes flashing. "Abandon him? Abandon the island?"

"Too late for that," Wes says, sliding a hand around Colt's neck, tugging his head back. Colt groans softly. "There's no way back, Tink, and you know it. We stick together."

"She's not the right Wendy," I say.

They exchange quick looks.

"We don't know that," Wes says.

"The hell we don't. Where is her magic, huh? How is she going to break the dark curse?"

"None of the Wendies showed any sign of magic at first," Colt argues.

"Or later," I mutter. "Because they never had any."

"But the whole point is that they have to be human," he insists.

"Meaning, from the human world, you idjit." I sigh. "Not that they have to be magicless humans. How else are they supposed to do this, how are they going to help us, if not with magic?"

"We aren't supposed to know, Tink. Only keep searching, keep trying to fix the bridge."

With another groan, I swing my legs off the bed and manage not to roll my eyes, cuz, headache. "Yeah, yeah. We keep telling ourselves that. That there is a solution. That the Mermaid Queen knows something and we will find it out. That the Dark Fae King will let us go if we break this spell. That a human girl can do it. Well, guess what. For centuries it hasn't worked. No reason why it should work now. We're stuck, guys. Stuck on the other side."

"Which is technically your side," Colt says. "The Fae side."

"Shut up, Colt." I sigh, rub at my eyes. "Damn. We have to talk to Peter."

* * *

Peter isasleep in one of the armchairs when we return to the sitting room, his dark hair sticking up in all directions, an inked arm thrown over his face.

And so is Wendy, fast asleep, though she's curled up on the sofa, her blond hair draped over her face and her skirt riding dangerously high over her ass.

A nice handful of an ass.

Heart-shaped.

Lush.

My lip curls.

I don't touch her, though, ignoring my hard dick, and instead head over to our wretched king. I grab him, tuning out the cursing of the Twins, and haul him to his feet, drag him to the wall and slam him against it, just like he did.

"Wakey, wakey," I growl and enjoy the flash of a shadow I see passing behind his eyes. "Are you with us now?"

"Tink," he growls back as his brain catches up. "What the fuck?"

"You forget that I'm not your plaything, King."

"Plaything? What the hell, man?" He shoves at me, and my anger bleeds out as realization hits me.

"You forgot again," I sigh.

"Forgot what?"

Taking a step back, I release him and glance over my shoulder at the Twins. They wear matching scowls on their faces, but I don't know if it's because I decided to go crazy and challenge Peter, or if it's because he's forgetting stuff again.

I mean, it's nothing new, this forgetfulness of his. Been happening for a long time now. Getting worse, though, oh yeah. Definitely.

Wes draws out his gun, twirls it on a finger. "Hey, Peter. Do you know where you are?"

"Are you fucking with me?" His pale eyes flick to where the Twins are standing. "I'm on the island."

We all sag a little in relief.

"But who's her?" he says, nodding at the sofa. "What is she doing here?"

Oh, fuck.

"Peter…" I start.

"Dammit," Colt breathes.

Wendy stirs, probably woken by our voices, and sits up, rubbing at her eyes. Then she blinks those big baby blues at us and says, "Hey, what did I miss?