“I know this is going to sound insane,” she whispered, turning away from a nosey woman smoking a cigarette, “but are you in Neverland?”
Julie’s high laugh tinkled through the speaker. Was that a yes or no?
“If you are,” Vivienne said, “I’ve changed my mind.”
“About?”
The wind picked up, and she moved into the station. They still had the AC on full blast, and her teeth started chattering. “I want to come to Never—Kensington. I want to go there.” Why was everyone staring at her? She looked like crap. So what? Move along, people.
“And how do you plan on getting to Never-Kensington?”
“By bus, I guess.” She pulled out the soggy ticket Deacon had given her the day before. “But right now, all I have is a ticket to Cleveland.”
“A ticket for your next destination will be waiting for you in Cleveland, but you’ll need to show identification to collect it. Will that be a problem?”
“I kinda left my house in a hurry. Give me a second to check…” She unloaded the stuff in her backpack onto the floor and found her wallet beneath her jeans. “Yeah. I have my license.”
She set aside a dry top to change into when she was done and stuffed the rest of her things back into her backpack. “How will I know when I get to where I need to be?”
“A Kensington representative will meet you when you arrive at your final destination.”
“Thanks, Julie.” She stood, picked up her backpack, and settled the straps over her shoulders.
“Before you go, I assume you’re calling on your cell phone?”
“I am.” Vivienne tapped her index finger against the rubbery case.
“Turn it off and remove the SIM card and battery. The location could be traced and, if that’s the case, we would prefer you to disappear in Columbus rather than somewhere closer to us.”
Could she survive without her cell phone? There was only one way to find out.
Vivienne promised to do it as soon as she ended the call. Julie said goodbye and a bunch of messages came through all at once.
The first ones were from Lynn. Called hospital. They said you need more tests.
The follow-up messages from Lyle made her smile. FYI. Weird stuff happening. Mom is freaking out. Hope ur ok. Maren is back. I hate her.
She wanted to text him something reassuring, but there was no way to give “I’m leaving forever” a positive spin. Instead, she dismantled her phone and stored the pieces in her bag. With fifty dollars in her pocket and a backpack full of mismatched clothes, Vivienne started her journey to Neverland.
Deacon hadn’t been himself since he got back last night. Only once had he failed to bring a mark to Kensington. And he had spent the last seven years making up for that mistake.
Every fledgling PAN since had taken him at his word and trusted him. They had been so desperate for something else in life that their questions had been predictable and few. He had grown too complacent—and too cocky—never expecting a pretty, brown-eyed girl and her barrage of questions to leave him returning to Neverland empty-handed.
Vivienne should have been enjoying life in Kensington instead of being stuck in her dingy closet of a bedroom or stalked by HOOK. But she had turned her back on the possibilities, safety, and freedom he had offered.
He felt personally affronted by the rejection, as though she had dismissed Deacon himself and not the opportunity to live out what sounded like an elaborate fairy tale.
His ringing phone pulled him from his pathetic musings. The brunette he had picked up at the bar the night before rolled over and tugged the covers over her head.
He silenced the call before bringing his mobile into the hallway. “Hello?”
“Why are you whispering?”
He pulled his bedroom door closed and said in a more normal tone, “Sorry about that, Julie.” Of course she would be calling. He needed to answer to External Affairs about his recent failure and undergo the rigorous debriefing session. Still, he hadn’t expected the call so soon after returning.
“I just got an interesting phone call.”
“What time does Paul want me in?” he huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, prepared to accept his fate.
“Paul didn’t call me. Vivienne did.”
Deacon had so many questions, but one was more pressing than the rest. “What did she want?”
“To know how to get here.”
“What? That’s brilliant. Just brilliant.” He smacked his hand against the wall. This meant the few rules he had bent on her behalf were more likely to be overlooked.
“If she doesn’t change her mind again, she should be at the bus station in Worcester tomorrow night.”
“I’ll meet her there.” He had a few things to say to Miss Dunn.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Thank you, Julie.” His week was turning around. He couldn’t wait to hear what had convinced Vivienne to reconsider.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Paul Mitter, head of the Department for External Affairs, scolded when Deacon entered his office at Kensington the following evening.
“I assume you asked me here for my debriefing session.” Deacon spun the globe next to the window. The setting sun cast the campus in a beautiful golden hue. “And, in twenty minutes, I’m leaving for Union Station.”
“Sit. Down.”
“Somebody’s in a foul mood,” Deacon mumbled, meandering over to the chair. He found himself looking forward to seeing Vivienne again, which was a novelty for him.
She was cute—but so was the girl from last night. Maybe it was the whole damsel-in-distress thing Vivienne had going on. Deacon felt responsible for her; that had to be it.
Once she was safe at Kensington, his preoccupation with her would end.
“Is it any wonder?” Paul ground out. “Do you know what could have happened if you were caught by those agents at the hospital?”
“Thanks a lot, TINK.” Deacon ripped the offending piece of tech from his ear. He understood the in-ear Neverkit, a helmet/earpiece/phone/altimeter/GPS, was vital to their success, but it felt like he traveled with a live-in nanny. “It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
“Worked out?” Paul yanked open his desk drawer and rummaged around inside. “Is that what you call it when HOOK has the building surrounded, and you’re forced to fly yourself and an unconscious mark off a hospital rooftop?”
“The mark’s name is Vivienne,” he corrected, resting his foot on the edge of Paul’s desk so he could tie his shoe. “And she will be arriving at Kensington safe and sound in the next hour. So, yes. I would say it all worked out.”
“No thanks to you.” Paul pushed Deacon’s foot back to the floor with the top of his pen. “We’re aware of how much coercion you employed to get her here. This isn’t a game. You give the mark simple facts, and if he or she chooses not to come, then so be it. We don’t force anyone to join us.”
“I didn’t force Vivienne to come along.” If anything, he had sent her running in the opposite direction. “She made the decision all by herself.”
“You didn’t follow procedure either, did you?”