Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,27

whether or not you still care that I’m able to get the hell out of here.”

Wendy finished that last line with a bit more threat in her voice than she’d originally intended. But she let it sit in the quiet of the room while Tinkerbelle thought about it.

“Ah. So, Wendy Darling wants to parlay,” Tinkerbelle replied silkily, her eyes narrow and smile sharp as a serpent’s.

“Should I let you do my makeup?” Wendy asked, this time with meaning, staring down at Tinkerbelle from her position at the foot of the bed.

“Yes,” Tinkerbelle said resolutely. “But first, we have to shake on it.”

She licked her palm and stuck it out. Wendy grimaced, but licked the center of her hand as well, trying not to think about all the things she’d touched in the train station. Tinkerbelle grasped her hand tight and shook.

CHAPTER 7

Tinkerbelle curled Wendy’s already curly hair with a thin curling iron, then rolled each section on a foam roller to cool. Then she disinfected her makeup brushes and began working. First, she darkened Wendy’s brown eyebrows to nearly pitch black and contoured her face until her cheeks were sharp and her nose was pointed. She painted a wide strip of dark blue almost a full inch wide across Wendy’s face, over her eyes from ear to ear, lightening her touch until it faded perfectly into Wendy’s skin. Under the band across her face, Tinkerbelle dusted dark pink blush over the apples of her cheeks and daubed just a bit of liquid lipstick in the center of her lips. She spread it to the edges, leaving the richest color in the center, as if Wendy had bitten her lips for hours.

“I look like something from Blade Runner,” Wendy remarked, turning her face from side to side, letting the Christmas lights reflect off the shimmer.

Tinkerbelle laughed quietly. “You do. Just because you’re covering your face doesn’t mean you can’t still look pretty. I know what it’s like to feel nervous around police and strangers. I’m sorry my makeup doesn’t quite match your complexion. But under the circumstances, it’s the best we can do.”

She began unwinding the curlers from Wendy’s hair, gently pulling the ringlets loose. “Do you have your cell phone on you still?” she asked.

Wendy felt a spike of anxiety.

“You should keep it on airplane mode, so you don’t waste battery,” Tinkerbelle said. “You’ll probably need it later on.”

Wendy thought about the conversation they’d had fifteen minutes ago and resisted the urge to snap that she knew how phones worked. Instead, she pulled the phone out of her pocket to follow Tinkerbelle’s instructions.

To her horror, now she only had 10 percent battery—and Eleanor’s texts were the last thing she’d opened. Tinkerbelle gazed at them placidly over her shoulder as Wendy clicked out of the app as fast as she could.

“You should turn on your location, too,” she said, to Wendy’s surprise. “It still works when your phone is offline.”

“You’re serious about this,” Wendy said.

Tinkerbelle hummed low in her throat and continued back-combing the crown of Wendy’s head. “You’ll thank me later,” she said.

There was a knock at Tinkerbelle’s door. She put down her comb, but before she could reach the door, it swung open.

“Tootles!” Tinkerbelle cried. “What have I said about knocking!”

Tootles immediately looked chastened. “You have to wait until after, when the person says come in…” He backed out of the room, clearly about to try the interaction again, but Tinkerbelle stopped him.

“No, no, no, don’t go back outside, just do better next time. What do you want?”

“Peter says it’s time for dinner,” Tootles said, swaying back and forth in that fidgety way little kids often do. “It’s time to wash up.”

“Okay, fine, tell him we’ll be there in a second,” Tinkerbelle snapped. “And close the door on the way out.”

Tootles did just that, and Tinkerbelle returned to Wendy’s hair, giving it a few more floofs and spraying the whole thing with hairspray. “The bathroom is to the right at the end of the hallway. There’s a window in there, but if you climb out of it, not only is there a thirty-foot drop, but I’m pretty sure Peter would chase you or be waiting for you at the bottom by the time you managed to climb down.”

Wendy felt a thrill of fear, and it probably showed on her face because Tinkerbelle put a hand on her shoulder. “We spit-shook on it,” she said seriously. “I promised that I’ll protect you. I just … understand the temptation, and wanted