by Eva Chase
“Lyssa?” Doria said, with a note of concern. I swallowed hard and shook off the wave of dread that had nearly overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to freak her out. I was responsible for her now too, wasn’t I?
That thought made me choke up all over again, but I pushed myself to my feet and managed a shaky smile. “I’m okay.”
“They left,” Doria said. “The Duchess started walking again, and Chess disappeared. I have no idea what that was about.”
I glanced back the way we’d come. “I guess we should get back to the house, then.”
Doria rubbed her arms. “I don’t know. The Knave might not be done there yet. And I’m feeling kind of hungry.” She caught my eye with that sly glint I was quickly becoming familiar with. “What do you say we grab some brunch before we head back? There’s nothing suspicious about that.”
“I think we should get back there now,” I said. “Your father will freak out if—”
“Pops needs to loosen up,” Doria declared, the glimmer in her eyes turning manic. Without bothering to argue any further, she sprang to the next rooftop and then swung onto a fire escape of sorts that zigzagged down into the narrow alley she’d just leapt.
I stood frozen for a second. Hatter wasn’t going to be any more happy if I came back without his daughter. Fuck. At least if I was with her, I’d know she was okay.
“Wait up!” I called as loudly as I dared, and dashed after her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hatter
It hardly seemed fair that in the space of a few breaths, I’d gone from gazing into one of the prettiest faces I’d ever seen to bracing under the scrutiny of one of the most foul. Not that I had much belief in fairness left.
“When was the last time you went by the bakery?” the Knave was saying, his voice like the hiss of a knife scraped over a whetting stone. It fit his sharkish features. His whole head appeared to have been built to angle toward his bulging pointed jaw. His small wide-set eyes and the blue-gray sheen to his skin only added to the impression.
He wore the same pleated red-and-pink uniform the rest of the Hearts’ Guard did, but with a thick crimson over-jacket trimmed with gold, and his heart-shaped helm stood half again as tall as that of any of his underlings.
I’d had the occasion of being under the scrutiny of those cold little eyes a few times before. It never got any more pleasant.
“I was there yesterday morning,” I said steadily from where I was leaning against the back of the wingchair. The most important thing with the Knave was to keep your cool. He clamped on to fear like a shark scenting blood in the water. So far his questions hadn’t given any hint that he was aware of Lyssa’s presence or that Doria had treaded too carelessly.
“And what did you do while you were there?”
“I bought some scones,” I said. “As I do most mornings. Baker could have told you that.”
“She did,” the Knave said. “She said you picked up more than usual yesterday.”
I shrugged. “I was expecting company for tea. I’m not sure why the Guard is concerned with my breakfast habits?”
“We are concerned that someone has been skimming from Baker’s supplies.” The Knave studied me as if waiting to see if I’d show some guilt.
I didn’t even have any to hide. “Skimming supplies?” I repeated with genuine confusion. “Why in the lands would anyone do that?”
“I couldn’t begin to guess,” the Knave said darkly. “But Butcher and Cheesemaker have been trifled with too. You don’t mind if I have a look around?”
His tone didn’t offer any room for argument. I held up my hands. “Be my guest.”
He slunk through my kitchen, peering into the fridge, searching the cupboards. I might have found the whole process absurd if a prickle of understanding hadn’t run up my back.
I’d been buying food that Lyssa had eaten over the past few days. From the bakery mostly, but cheese and meat for the meals beyond breakfast as well. A few pieces of fruit, too, but either Fruitsman hadn’t noticed or the Knave hadn’t mentioned that loss.
Since the freeze, what any of us had eaten had made no impact on the shops’ stockpiles, any more than my sending someone off with a hat prevented me from offering that same hat to a different customer the next day. The flour and butter and whatever else Baker put into her wares would have reappeared in her pantry overnight.
Other than what Lyssa had partaken of. The food she’d eaten would stay consumed just as her cup that first morning had stayed ringed with tea. After innumerable years of finding her ingredients in the exact same state, it couldn’t have taken much of a difference for Baker to notice their sudden depletion.
The Knave couldn’t possibly suspect the truth of the matter, could he? There’d never been an Otherlander in Wonderland during the freeze before. Not that I’d heard of, at least. The effect of Lyssa’s presence had seemed as much a surprise to Chess and Theo as it had been to me.
The Knave came around the other side of the table, and his narrow gaze fell on the cup that I supposed I had to accept was irrevocably broken. His eyebrows rose just a smidgen. “Got rather violent with your tea today, did you, Hatter?”
Violent was not really the word for it. Even under his stare, my pulse kicked up a notch with the giddy delight of the memory. Watching Lyssa fumble her way through telling me everything she admired about me, reveling in the dawning realization that maybe what I’d been telling myself I could never have wasn’t so out of reach after all, and then her soft hair tangling around my fingers, her mouth hot and sweet against mine, the little noise she’d made when I’d kissed her harder—
Fuck. My nerves were still crackling with contained electricity from that moment. A flush rose over my skin despite the Knave’s chilly scrutiny.
He was waiting for my answer. I offered a sheepish smile. “I stumbled clearing the table. Nothing a new day won’t fix.”
“Indeed.” He sidestepped the small puddle of tea and peered around the rest of the room, but he didn’t make any move toward the upper floors. Doria would have gotten herself and Lyssa out of view by now, but I didn’t want to test the limits of her skills of concealment if we didn’t have to. It was one thing for Chess to say he’d brought a Dreamer to the club; something else altogether for me to claim I’d been hosting one for days on end. The Knave would have a lot more questions than Caterpillar had.
“Is there any other way I can assist?” I asked, bringing all my attention back to the intruder.
“You can pass on the word of any murmurs you hear, if you know what’s good for you,” the Knave said. “We’ve been very easy on you considering the company you kept.”
His vague gesture toward the ceiling brought back an utterly different and not at all pleasant memory. Only the most awful night of my life.
The sensations washed over me in the space of a choked breath: the thunder of the guards’ footsteps as they’d barged into the apartment. My heart thumping almost as loudly as I’d stumbled out of my bedroom, only to realize it wasn’t me they’d come for. It’d leapt to my throat as they’d dragged March and May by, and I’d been about to jump in, to argue, to throw myself in front of the sword, but March had clutched my arm hard enough to bruise.
Take care of her. Please.
In the whites of his eyes, I’d seen our future if I took a stand. We’d all be executed, and little toddling Doria would be left alone. March and May were already implicated; it was too late for anything to save them. The guards clearly didn’t have anything on me—yet.
So I stood down.
Now, anger balled at the back of my mouth. They were better company than you could be to anyone.
I held my tongue with a slow inhalation. A sharp retort wasn’t the best way to defend my old friends’ interests either.
“I serve the Queen as I am able,” I said.
I might not have been able to entirely smooth the bite from that comment. The Knave’s mouth pressed flat, but he turned on his heel and stalke
d out of the apartment without another word.
I stood there for a long moment after he’d left, attempting to recover my equilibrium. When I was sure he’d moved on, I’d have to go retrieve Doria and Lyssa. I’d have to—I’d have to—
I could feel the kiss when I wet my lips. The electricity thrumming through me had taken on a painful edge. What the fuck had I been thinking? I should know better than to get caught up in a little affection in a pretty girl’s eyes. Especially an Otherlander’s.
She’d left her mark. These lips would never not have been kissed by her, the fingers that curled into my palms now would never not have gripped the smooth curve of her thigh. Nowhere she’d touched me could ever be reset, no matter what I did next.
It was too late to change that. I’d already let her too far in. How could I feel both so thrilled and so terrified by that fact at the same time?
The patter of my pulse as I headed upstairs crept toward the thrilled end of the spectrum. I’d talk to Lyssa about what I’d gleaned from the Knave, and we’d work out the safest course of action together. She’d want that. She’d proven with every action and word so far that she cared what happened to us here. That she could be the answer to the problem even the White Knights had never been able to solve.
We might really be on the verge of freedom, thanks to her.
And after we talked, perhaps…
A shiver of heat ran through me. I caught myself on the verge of a grin as I nudged open the fourth floor window in what had once been March and May’s bedroom.
No one came to scramble back through the window. I eased my head out, peering across the rooftop in one direction and then the other. My heart started to beat even faster, with a jab of panic that speared through my gut.
No one was out there. Lyssa and my daughter had vanished.
Footsteps padded across the roof’s tiles. With a flash of relief, I pushed myself off the edge of the bed that still held the shapes of March and May’s bodies.
The relief didn’t manage to dislodge the choked feeling that had gripped me the entire time I’d been sitting there, grappling with the question of whether I was more likely to help my daughter by going out in search of her or staying put in case she needed me here. Apparently I’d made the right choice. That fact wasn’t much of a balm either.
I’d left the window a couple inches ajar. Doria tugged it higher and slipped in first with a swish of her partly braided hair. She stiffened when she saw me waiting there and then sauntered a few steps to the side to make room for Lyssa to clamber in. There wasn’t a scratch on Doria, only a smudge of icing sugar on her black dress that told me she’d been to the café that served her favorite currant-jelly donuts.
“Hey, Pops,” she said.
Lyssa caught my expression and winced. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We saw a Diamond on the street, and it seemed like it might be a good idea to find out what she was doing here—”
“You followed a Diamond while the Knave was on the hunt?” I snapped.
“We were fine,” Doria said. “She never even saw us. It’s not like we were in danger.”
“You had no way of knowing that when you had no idea what the Knave showed up here for,” I said. My gaze jerked back to Lyssa. Lyssa with those big blue dangerously naïve eyes. “And then you went for donuts?”
Lyssa’s eyes flicked to Doria and back to me. “We—I wasn’t sure if it might be better for us to be away from the house while he was there. I lost track of the time.”
“Lost track of—”
“Dad,” Doria said, raking her hand through her hair. “It was—”
I’d been wrong. She did have a scratch—a raw pink scrape beaded with scarlet just below the inside of her wrist. My pulse stuttered. “You’re bleeding. Are you all right?”
“I told you I’m fine,” she said. “I just bumped it on a rough spot on the ladder. It was no big deal. Look—”
“No,” I said. “Go clean it. Bandage it up. I need to talk to Lyssa.”
“But I—”
“Doria,” I said through gritted teeth. “Go. You and I will have lots of time to talk later.”
She stomped out of the room.
“I really am sorry,” Lyssa said, her hands twisting together in front of her. “I didn’t want you to be worried.”
“I was fucking worried all right,” I said. I managed not to yell, keeping in mind Doria’s keen ears, but my voice came out sharp enough to cut. “For good reason. How could you think it was a good idea to take off around the city like that?”
She had no idea. I’d thought she was better than that, but maybe Otherlanders just couldn’t help charging recklessly into situations they didn’t fully understand. The second I’d let myself trust her—
“We were careful,” she was saying now. “I swear nothing happened that would raise any suspicions. I didn’t even touch anything.”
“It doesn’t matter. You should have stayed on the fucking roof!”
“Okay. I’ll know that next time—if there is a next time.”
“There won’t be,” I said. “I’d sooner deliver her to the palace than send her anywhere with you again.”
Lyssa opened her mouth and hesitated. It was too damned hard not to see the pain on her face, not to remember the feel of those full lips on mine just a couple hours ago. The rage inside me clenched tighter.
“Did something happen with the Knave?” she asked. “Is that why— You’re obviously really upset. If there’s something else going on—if this is about earlier too—”
“It’s about you going off with my daughter and putting her and you and all of Wonderland in harm’s way without even realizing what you’re doing,” I broke in. “Don’t tell me how upset I’m allowed to be. I know the second you slip up, the second things actually get tough for you, you’ll be running off through that looking-glass back to your calm, peaceful home, looking-glass girl. You’ll vanish and leave us to pick up the pieces.”
Lyssa’s jaw tensed. “What are you talking about? I’m here. You have no idea—if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s sticking around for other people no matter how awful things get.”
A scoffing sound tumbled out of me. Her whole body went rigid at that. “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” she said, her own voice rising.
“As a person would say when they know they can’t prove anything anyway,” I shot back.
Her hands balled at her sides. “Fine. Fine. I’ll stop being such a huge problem for you then.”
She marched out of the room. My heart tore as she disappeared from view. My legs screamed to run after her, but I kept my feet planted firmly on the floor and squeezed my eyes shut.
A door thudded somewhere downstairs. I rubbed my hands over my face. The choked feeling had spread through my entire chest and abdomen.
“I’m sorry, March,” I muttered. “You asked me for one thing…” And I fucked it up the second a girl like that looked at me the right way.
I didn’t exactly feel as if I’d un-fucked anything yet. After a minute, I pulled myself together and went out to check on my daughter.
Doria barged into the hall to meet me when I reached the third floor. “Why did Lyssa leave?” she demanded with a wave of her arm, the white bandage she’d pasted over her scrape flashing. “What did you say to her?”
“Only what needed to be said. She put you in danger. She—”
“She didn’t put me in any danger. We were perfectly safe.”
“You weren’t,” I said. “I told you to go on the roof.”
“And we did. We just went farther than that too. You can’t be angry at Lyssa. If you even stopped to listen for two seconds—”
I reined in as much of my frustration as I could, but I could hear it vibrating through my voice anyway. “Listen to you? I’m your father, and—”
“No, you’re not,” she spat out. “My father’s dead.”
She might as well have punched the air from my lungs. I stared at h
er, a sharper ache spreading through my center.
Doria’s face blanched with horror. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t.”
My anger seemed to have deflated too. All that was left was the lump in my throat and that awful ache.
I reached out, and Doria darted into my arms. For a second I just held her, reminding myself that she was still here. That I’d managed to keep her alive for twelve years, at least, even if sometimes she seemed hellbent on ending that record as soon as possible.
“I know, Mouse,” I said roughly. “But I also know it’s true. I— You know I’ve never been anything but glad to have you in my life, don’t you?”
She let out a choked-sounding laugh. “I’d have to be pretty stupid not to, with all the trouble you go to trying to make sure I stay in it.”
My lips twitched. I hugged her closer, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. It’d been a while since she’d grown out of the really huggy stage of her childhood. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.
After a little while, when the tension had seeped out of the air around us, Doria eased back with a quick swipe at her eyes.
“It really wasn’t Lyssa’s fault, you know,” she said. “She just didn’t want to put the blame on me, I guess. Following the Diamond, and then going off into the city—those were my ideas. She tried to stop me. I think she only came along because she wanted to look out for me.”
I found, now that the fiercest flare of fear and anger had faded, that Doria’s admission didn’t surprise me. I swallowed hard. That didn’t mean I should have let myself get caught up in that moment in the kitchen earlier, necessarily… but, Hearts take me, remembering some of the things I’d said to Lyssa made me cringe inwardly. That hadn’t been right of me either.
I was supposed to be protecting her—I’d given the White Knight my damned word.
Even if I hadn’t, even if I never touched her again, I’d still have hated the thought of Lyssa getting hurt. More hurt than she’d already been by my words.