Violet (The Never Series) *EDITING*

Chapter Nine

~Dedicated to awksturtle22 again and also IAmIronMan22

Also, I will dedicate the next chapter to everybody who comments :)

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Chapter Nine

Violet

I had told him my name. I had just given him power.

He knew my name.

However, despite the severity of his knowledge, that was not the highest of my priorities. I had seen him. My partner in crime and aide in all things deadly. 

Taser.

I had been so confused that I had just stopped, in the middle of a fight. That wasn't like me, but Taser would only have made himself known to me if it was extraordinarily important.

So, I had stopped, studying his hand signals. He had been doing some unusual hand slashing that seemed like he wanted me to stop. To stop fighting my father's arch-nemesis and thus allowing him to win.

I had hated it. The feeling of submission? It was despicable, it was similar to fear... yet there was no certainty as there is in fear. In fear, you know what you fear and can predict what is going to happen. Whereas, from the stories told to me, submission was a lot like falling in love. It was like giving someone the power to destroy and hoping that they won't.

I was familiar with neither fear or submission. I had been taught to never experience them as they would affect my performance on missions.

Even at my worst I was still the best.

Anyway, Taser had told me to stop. It had to have been urgent or he would have never intervened. 

I was currently being forced to spend my precious time in Pan's abominable presence, whilst eagerly awaiting the perfect moment in which to slip away and find Taser.

"Violet," he said my name as though he was tasting it, "do you have a last name perchance?" He questioned.

I did actually, have a last name and it wasn't Hook.  

It had been my mother's family name.

"Devereaux," was my simple reply. "My full name, is Violet Devereaux."

My mother had been an English lady, but her great-grandfather had been French. Her eyes and name were the only things that I had inherited according to my father, Hook. The great bastard.

"That's a beautiful name." Pan says, sounding surprised. 

I looked up to meet his eyes, and was saddened by the shameless honesty that glittered on the deep blue ocean of his eyes. 

I could never be honest, it would only speed up my inevitable destruction.

I nodded in acknowledgement of his compliment.

And then another question.  

"Where are you from?"  

Ahh, at last, the one question that would give everything away. Peter Pan had finally asked.

"That, unfortunately Pan, was NOT part of the deal." I hissed warningly, ignoring the pain that flared from the cheek that had been punched.

He was the first person to ever manage to get close enough to inflict damage.

Peter Pan was turning out to be a weakness, and I loathed that, because I was not supposed to have one. He was formidable but should have been easy enough to kill.