Devour the Dark (Devourer, #2)

by Nikki St. Crowe

He has no regrets, he tells everyone, but he is full of lies. His nearest regret is sitting in the chair beside his bed… …begging him to be okay.

He shifts again, and his arm turns to pure shadow before reforming. He has a Myth Maker witch stuck inside of him. Did he not know the consequences of devouring her? How could he be so reckless?

Yeah in hindsight that was probably a bad idea but, you know, he probably thought eating her would, you know, kill her.

Vane. Lane. And⁠—

Vanessa, his brother. Lane for Lainey, his dead sister? that was her name right? I'm so bad with names in passing.

CHAPTER TWO ASHA

This is gonna be the new POV I dont care about. I can feel it now.

“Peter Pan was very clear about it,” Hook is telling Wendy. “I’m not allowed on Neverland soil.” “Fuck Peter Pan,” Wendy says, her hands on her hips. I’ve seen her like this many times before. Determined, a little stubborn, maybe a little blinded by her desperation. I’ve also heard that name a hundred times. Sometimes she would mutter it like a curse, other times she would utter it like a cry. Peter Pan. Peter Pan. I can’t tell if we should be more afraid of the Crocodile or Pan. Maybe they are equally dangerous. “You are out of your mind!” Hook huffs out a sigh and turns away. He bows his head. Beyond him, through the windows of the starboard dining room, land is rising up on the horizon, the sun setting behind it, painting its peaks and valleys in swashes of orange. Neverland. Hook and the Crocodile are not allowed on Neverland soil, as decreed by Peter Pan. And Hook won’t allow Wendy to go, even though she’s trying hard to convince him otherwise.

Yeah unfortunately, right now, FUCK Peter Pan.

The Crocodile is another of those myths that I’m still a bit vague on. In the Dark Archives, his name is cited seven hundred thirty-four times but only by ‘Crocodile.’ His birth name seems to have been expunged from the records, either by him or someone else. The facts I know about him are: 1. He is old—older than I am—but there is no consensus on how old. He is older than Hook and Wendy but not as old as Peter Pan. 2. The Crocodile is a member of The Bone Society, one of the Isle’s secret societies. The Bone Society is credited with inventing time as we know it. 3. The roster of the Bone Society is secret, though I suspect the list is short. Because members are some kind of unknown creature that needs blood to stave off transforming and devouring everything in their wake. But there is no scientific name for their kind, which leads me to believe their origins are either hidden for a reason, or they aren’t from this realm. 4. The Crocodile is Vane’s older brother. Vane is a Lost Boy, Peter Pan’s most trusted friend. The Crocodile and Vane come from a well-known, wealthy family of Darkland. The Maddred family. They are often cited together as the Madd brothers. Their father was Duke of Maddred for a time, with Roc expected to inherit the title. Until their father tried to overthrow the monarchy, and their family was stripped of all their possessions and titles. Afterward, Vane and the Crocodile worked their way up through the ranks of the darker side of Darkland known as the...

CHAPTER THREE VANE

VANE IS BACK BABYYYYY

I’m buried deep inside of her, chasing the heat of her.

Right to the point I see

“I was very clear,” Pan says. “Hook and Roc are not allowed on my land.” “Your land?” Win turns on him. Peter Pan is a god, but when Winnie Darling scowls at him, he is reduced to a man.

Win crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine.” “Fine,” Pan repeats. They stare at one another for several beats. The tension is thick enough to braid. When they get like this, they are either two seconds away from shouting at one another or two seconds away from fucking. But we don’t have time for that.

There were two versions of Anjelaka Maddred: melancholy or manic.

Roc & Vane's mother?

I never dream of my mother. Not anymore. But the accuracy of the dream… My mother loved Madame la Mort. Madame Death.

It WAS their mom

I glance up at him. “You once asked me why I kept time, why I didn’t just shift and devour at my discretion.” “I remember.” He swallows. “You told me there was a cost.” “Yes. It’s not just the recovery period, the vulnerability in being unconscious. Too many shifts and…” I sink back against the headboard and close my eyes. “Too many shifts and a day will come when I can no longer shift back.”

Winnie tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as the wind picks up on the dock. “Share with the class. Why is this bad?”

Share with the class 😂😂😂

Vane follows the path that Roc took, his pace quick. “We rarely have control when we devour and sometimes we devour something we shouldn’t. There is one rule we must abide by: do not devour power.” At the end of the harbor road, a row of shops leads inward to the heart of the city and further beyond, screams rent the air. “Devouring power has…” Vane pauses and turns to Pan. “It has its consequences. A device was crafted to offset the mistake.” “What kind of device?” Kas asks as he ties his hair back. “A hat.” Kas stills, his knot of hair only half done up. “Hold on…did you say a hat?” “Yes, I said a fucking hat. The particulars don’t matter.” “I think they do,” Bash counters. “What kind of hat is it? A baseball hat? A cowboy hat? A bucket hat?” Kas frowns at his brother. “What the fuck is a bucket hat?” “I don’t know, honestly. I just heard a mortal talking about them. I imagine it’s a bucket you wear on your head.” Pan turns to the twins. “Will you two shut up?”

“I’m not leaving him to you,” I tell him, risking my neck and my head. “I’m going after him. He’s my monster now.” Something changes in Pan’s expression. It’s almost imperceptible. A flicker of surprise. “Do what you will then, Hook.” Pan holds his arm out, gesturing me forward. “Don’t let me hold you back.” Up until now, Roc hasn’t hurt me. Every time he’s come close, he’s shifted back. I hope now isn’t the first where he proves me wrong.

“Bloody hell,” I mutter. I guess we have a fucking cat.

“We’ll meet back at the dock in an hour?” Roc asks me. “Make it two. I’ll have some convincing to do with Pan.” Roc nods. “I don’t envy you that, little brother.” Then he slaps me on the back and disappears out the back door with Wendy and Asha in tow.

I hope Pan, Bash, and Kas also trail along as a stipulation of Winnie & Vane going lmao

I lean over. “Let me tell you a secret: we’re all mad.”

Alice in Wonderland reference? Coincidence?

Winnie comes up beside me. “I’m here,” she whispers. “I know.” “I love you.” “I love you too.” “Now let’s go kill some witches, and then afterward, I’ll shove you down in my bed and have my way with you.” When I look over at her, she’s beaming at me and I huff out a laugh.

I still can't believe Pan, Kas & Bash weren't included in this little trip.

With the Captain out hailing a cab, and Wendy now in the bathroom readying herself, I slip into my bedroom. There’s a lamp on the bedside table. I unscrew the bolt at the top and pop off the cloth shade. The outer workings come off with another pop and what remains is the hilt of a blade. A hidden button on the back of the lamp’s base releases the blade, and the weapon slides free. It’s about half the length of my forearm, made of a specific kind of metal that does not exist here. The handle is thornewood, weathered now by age and use. I can recall my uncle’s words when he gave me the blade all those years ago. Swift and keen, and always ready for service. Upon first glance, it would be easy to mistake the blade for nothing more than a kitchen knife. Maybe it was always meant to be overlooked. Because this blade, in particular, is the only type of blade that can kill Vane and me. The only one capable of killing monsters. Our monsters. I slide the knife into a sheath strapped to my left forearm and hide it beneath my shirt sleeve.

That is a beyond horrible idea. Oh this is gonna go so south.

When we reach the grand front entrance, lighted by an oversized caged lantern, I come to a sudden stop. There is a coat of arms carved into the stone above the double doors. My theory, realized. I know that crest. As is traditional for Darkland coat of arms, there’s a knight’s helm at the top, one of the medieval kind with a slit for the eyes, and a giant black plume rising from the crown. Behind the helm is a red and black flourish. Beneath is the shield with the crescent moon and two stars, flanked by the standard two supporting figures: a raven and a skeleton. The family motto is beneath in old darkish: viere magnar, mori melius. Live great, die better. The presence of the coat of arms confirms my earlier suspicions. Winnie catches my hesitation. “You coming?” Vane follows my line of sight and scowls when he sees what I see. “Should we be worried?” I ask. Vane’s scowl deepens. “About what?” “Yeah.” Winnie glances between us. “About what?” “That family crest,” I say, more to her than to Vane, because he clearly knows what it means. “It belongs to the Corbeld family. The matriarchal line of Vane and Roc’s family.” “Your mother?” Winnie echoes and the way Vane tenses up tells us all we need to know. “And after the Lorne family, the Corbelds were next in line for the throne. Making Roc⁠—” Vane is swift, grabbing Winnie first, then me, ushering us into the shadows of the bushes that line the front of the house. “We were stripped of our titles,” he says quickly. “Maybe at one...

I'm sorry. WHAT?! Roc was 5th in LINE?! Would that potentially mean Vane was 6th?

Outside, the heat of the day has faded replaced by a soft ocean breeze, but inside Maddred Manor, the chill of night has seeped in early. It’s frigid. But oddly, all of the numerous fireplaces are dark and cold. No fire. No fire anywhere. Fire is considered the coziest of all. Alarm bells start ringing in my head. There’s a puzzle piece I know fits into place here, but it’s blurry, a little out of my reach. We walk the perimeter of the room until we spot Malachi over by the drinks. Vane heads straight there. “Where is she?” “Whoa. Slow down.” Malachi offers Vane a drink. Vane takes it and slings it back. Is he on edge? Either he’s on edge or impatient because he says, “I don’t have all night,” right after slamming the glass down on the nearest table. I stand to the side, examining Malachi. He has his own drink in his right hand. He sips casually from it. More alarm bells. He looks the same. Sounds the same. But there is a sensation running up my arms, lifting the hair at the nape of my neck and when I step one step to the left, something about his face shifts, like he isn’t quite there.

Shapeshifters dont like fire...... as mentioned earlier...

He slides his hand over Wendy’s, threading their fingers together. “I can hear my father’s voice in this room. Do you know his favorite saying?” We don’t, so we say nothing. “’You are the bane of my existence.” He bows his head again. “From the moment I was born, he twisted my name into an insult.” “Your name?” I ask, desperate to possess it but terrified of the implications. He’s hidden his name for a reason. Because I suspect he doesn’t like it. Possessing it would mean holding a part of him he’d rather not share. The intimacy of that fact is one that cannot be denied. His eyes pop open and it takes him a beat to focus on me. “Bane,” he answers. “Our mother fancied herself a poet. She loved Edgar Allan Poe. Bane. Vane. And Lane. The rhyming three.” He laughs, but it’s thick with emotion. “Can you take me to my room?”

In hindsight I should have seen that coming.

“Thanks? Anyway, there are several monsters in the Seven Isles that are wary of fire. They can be burned or killed by fire. But so can we, so having a fire is not the same as completely avoiding it. Only one creature avoids fire, not only because it burns, but because it reveals.” “How so?” “Flame has two characteristics: its light is inconsistent, constantly moving, but it’s also heat. That’s why fire is a common component to purification spells.” “I wouldn’t know,” she admits. “I barely understand my own power, let alone anyone else’s.” Malachi makes his way across the ballroom, drink still in hand. “There is one creature in the Seven Isles that would avoid fire because of what it reveals.” “And that is?” “A shapeshifter.” “Oh. That’s…not good.” “No. I don’t think that’s Malachi.” “Fuck,” she breathes out and scans the crowd. “We need to find Vane.”

CALLED. IT.

“You Maddred brothers, so predictable,” the Myth says, circling behind me. “Your egos, the size of the moon.” She clucks her tongue. I snort. “And Myths are any better? I’m not the one trying to overthrow the Seven Isles. Trying to steal what is not mine.” “Oh?” She raises a brow. “Was it not the Maddred family who tore through Wonderland? Destroyed the Heart Court?” She ducks down in front of me. “Yes, I know what you are. Jabberwocky.”

This makes the Alice in Wonderland reference i saw earlier make sense. When it was said "we're all mad here".

“You’re wrong,” James argues. “Do you remember, Crocodile? ‘Just six words.’” Roc inhales. “But I don’t need six. I just need three.” I don’t know what this is, but it seems to shake Roc awake. A flicker of emotion. A glint of consciousness. I know this is something I wasn’t a part of. I know it came before me.

Hun it was RIGHT before you walked in.

I’m not sure what I expected, but a crushed velvet top hat was not it. Vane retrieves it with a careful grip. “It’s really a hat?” Winnie says. “I said it was a hat,” Vane answers. “Yeah, but I was sorta expecting that to be some kind of metaphor.” “It’s a hat,” he says and makes his way back upstairs. “But like…a magical hat?” Winnie asks. “Something like that.”

OMG. THE MAD HATTER. WONDERLAND REFERENCE. WHY DIDN’T I PUT IT ALL TOGETHER EARLIER?!

“Stop devouring every random inconvenience. We only have one hat. If something happens to that one, I’m not going through the glass for another.”

The looking glass. Alice through the looking glass.

There’s an empty spot on the middle shelf for the oldest hat, the first hat, the one used to remove that which is devoured. It was crafted by our uncle, as was the rest of them.

Their uncle is the fucking Mad Hatter

“Al,” I say because that’s what we called her. “Alice,” Vane corrects. “Her name was Alice.”

ALICEEEEEE. LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO. There better be a book 3.

Vane and the Crocodile once ruled the Darkland Underworld… After their father’s failed coup, Vane and Roc were stripped of their titles and their assets. Immortal, powerful and monstrous, it didn’t take them long to make their way back up the ladder, but it wasn’t in the manors and mansions of the Darkland elite, it was in the dark underbelly known as the Umbrage. Years later, they now rule the Umbrage and they are ruthless, destroying anyone who gets in their way. But even monsters have hearts, and when Roc and Vane find theirs broken, there’s only one choice: get revenge. Go back to where it all began in… Dark & Darker Still: A Vane and Roc Origin Story

I’m looking forward to a backstory but I really wish the Devourer story had a third book exploring more of Hook, Wendy, and Roc’s relationship and more about Roc taking the throne.