And the hell of it was she didn’t know how she knew that. She just did. Alice had dreamed of him for years, talked to him, told him her most cherished and heartfelt dreams, knowing in her child’s heart that he heard her, understood her, and knew her just as well.
“I know we have two days, Hatter.” She did not wish to give him hope. She had a life she needed to get back to. Responsibilities. She had a shoppe to run, and Tabby was probably crazy with worry. Not to mention her mother and father were probably, even now, calling every cop on the island to do a thorough search for their missing daughter. They’d all think something horrible had happened to her.
Somehow, someway, she’d figure out how to save Hatter, how to get Wonderland to accept her. But she couldn’t stay permanently. If there was some way to hop between realms, that could be a definite possibility. But she had to go back eventually.
The light in his eyes dimmed and he sat back, staring out at the garden with unseeing eyes.
Her fingers shook as she reached for a small bowl of grapes. “The food is wonderful,” she said, desperate to get him to look back at her. She hated to see the sadness touch his eyes.
“Leonard will be pleased.”
Her lips quirked and she glanced around. A tiger-striped butterfly touched down on the table. Its gossamer wings moved gracefully. The animals and flowers were so normal today. She’d kind of hoped for more, maybe a butterfly with pats of butter for wings or rocking-horse flies. Of course, that had been a cartoon, and she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. “I’d like to tell him thanks. I know I love it when a customer tells me that.”
He nodded, tapping the other teapot on the table. “Leonard, awake. Alice wishes to thank you.”
Shock made her drop the succulent red grape an inch from her mouth as the furry head of a tiny mouse popped head out.
“Oh my gosh!” She squeaked. “A mouse. A… a—”
The food that’d settled in her stomach with the sweetness of sun-warmed honey suddenly felt like a brick. She breathed hard around the gag.
He rubbed black little eyes, large ears twitching as he looked around with a furtive sneer. “Mice!” His high-pitched squeak matched her own. “Where? A pox on them.” The teapot rocked precariously as he shook a tiny fist. His nose wrinkled at a furious pace. “Nasty, flea-ridden vermin they are! And in me garden no less.”
Huh? She looked at Hatter. What was… Didn’t the mouse know… he was the mouse?
Hatter patted Leonard’s head with the indulgent grin of a proud parent. “Leonard’s my chef and friend. Are you not, wee one?”
His voice had gone soft, gentle. The cadence left her spellbound, watching as a shaft of light suddenly filtered through a hole in a fluffy white cloud, illuminating his features. He looked like an angel.
But only the fallen would make her feel the sudden violent lust rushing hot through her veins. She swallowed hard.
“Righto, guv’nor,” Leonard chirped. “Indeed.” Black beady eyes glanced up at her.
Alice tried to see him as Hatter did. Soft brown fur, long whiskers twitching with each breath. The little eyes turned soft, filled with light as he reached his hand out to her. “Oh aye, Yer Majestic Hatter, she is a lovely one. Ain’t she?”
His hand was still open, plump pink fingers curled toward her, and she realized he wanted to shake hands. She smiled. He really was kind of cute. Alice gave him her finger and he shook it.
“I loved your food, Leonard.”
He beamed, winked at Hatter as if to say I told you so, and turned back to her.
“I’m a bit of a foodie myself,” she said.
“Are ye now?” Leonard twitched in delight. “And do ye prefer the sweet to the savory, as I do?”
“She owns a cupcakery.” She glanced up at Hatter, who’d answered for her. “The creations would make you green with envy.”
How did he know that about her? Had all the other Alices baked too? She bit her tongue at the irritating thought.
Leonard gave her a sage nod of respect. “As they should. As they should.” He raised his arms high above his head, exposing sharp teeth and a pink tongue as he gave a mighty yawn. He smacked his lips and patted his head. “Perhaps, Alice girl, we’ll swap recipes.”
“Did you make the curd too?”
For a second the sleep left his eyes, and he nodded. “Me mum’s recipe, God rest ’er soul.”
“Best I’ve ever had.”
“True enough.” The little mouse accepted the compliment with the air of one who knew they weren’t idle words, tapped the side of his nose, and then yawned again. “Had meself a frightfully long night, miss. Apologies.” He slurred the last and then sank gracefully back down into the pot.
She giggled. “What in the world could keep a mouse up all night?” She looked at Hatter, and the laughter died in her throat. He was giving her that look again.
The look that stripped away all pretense, that said he was looking at her soul. A woman could melt into that look, lose herself and never find her way back home. She gripped the edge of the table.
“Have you eaten enough, Alice?”
She shivered. She was warm, but not because of the sun. His voice, rough, scratchy, set her body on edge. Alice nodded, not able to speak.
“Come.” He pushed away from the table and held his hand out to her.
Holding his hand felt as natural now as breathing. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she moved into step with him, getting inside his bubble just so that she could feel the heat from his body.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move away.
“Where are we going?”
He was leading them deeper into the garden; a black wrought iron fence in the distance drew closer. The garden slowly morphed from swaying flowers to towering tree trunks whose overhanging branches obscured the sky.
The moment they stepped through the gate, it was like someone had grabbed an enormous window shade and drawn it across the sky. The sunlight melted into moon glow. Stars studded the sky like thousands of glinting diamonds. The royal-blue veil of the heavens was broken only by an occasional fluffy white cloud floating past. The night smelled of heat and exotic spices. Somewhere, frogs croaked a gentle song.
She shivered. “Where are you taking me?”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. Her heart thudded. “A secret,” was all he said.
It was becoming hard to remember why she needed to go home. Why staying here was a bad idea. When he looked at her like that, like she was a precious jewel and he was the dragon sworn to protect it, she forgot lots of things.
Something in her recognized that for the first time, she was truly beginning to feel alive. That the world before was the dream and this one was the truth. That she’d finally come home. Scary how good the thought was.
A small clearing opened up, revealing a placid lake that stretched a good distance in every direction. Bugs darted and zipped over calm water while small bubbles popped at the surface. Cattails swayed gently.
“It’s beautiful.”
He shook his head. “Not this.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what, but he was already leading them straight toward the water, splashing in, and giving her no choice but to follow. She braced for the cold, but it never came. It was warm, soothing. They sank in, water covering their heads. She held her breath.
Everything was black. How long would she have to hold her breath? Did he know where they were going? She looked around, searching for a cave, an opening with a pocket of air. Trying to stave off the panic, she hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer. He wouldn’t hurt her. He might want to, but he wouldn’t. She knew that, trusted that, felt it in the depths of her soul.
They sank deeper and deeper, and she was growing more and more dizzy
She tried to yank her wrist out of his hand; she needed to get back to the surface. Air was a desperate need now, her body shaking and her throat on fire. A blue glow radiated in a flash aro
und them. He looked at her and frowned.
“Alice?” The glow added shadow to hollows, giving him a sinister appearance. “You can breathe here.” He demonstrated by inhaling deeply.
Her lungs burned. They were empty, deprived of sweet oxygen. She’d never gone more than thirty seconds at the beach without gulping for air. Black dots swam in her vision.
She wanted to trust him so badly.
He shook her shoulders, wearing a frantic look. “Do it, damn you, breathe!”
And then the matter was out of her hands. Instinct took over and she sucked, waiting for fluid to fill her lungs. Drown her.
It was thicker than air, but clean, fresh, with a hint of salty brine. She could breathe. She sucked in harder, greedy for more. And then she laughed a desperate choking sound of disbelief. “I’m breathing water.”
He closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then that hot gaze of his, the one that made her want to strip off her clothes and his, demanded she look at him.
“You must know, Alice, I would never hurt you. Never.” His knuckles grazed her cheek, and she felt that touch move like lightning through her limbs. Her nipples hardened into painfully sharp peaks.
His eyes danced with light again, a swirling pattern of movement, a chaotic rhythm that matched the frenetic beat of her heart. She held her breath again as he leaned closer, his body heat pressing against her. Lips touched hers, a feather-soft whisper at first, hesitant. Exploratory.
She curled her fingers into his jacket, and he groaned. The rumble vibrated her chest, and then he was not so soft, not so gentle. He was demanding, kissing, touching, tasting, sucking on her lip and swiping his tongue across the seam.
She parted her mouth on a loud moan and he darted in, massaging her tongue with his own. He tasted so good, like spring rain and wildflowers, and then his hands cupped her ass, making her burn and shiver as she moaned loud and long.
Alice pulled him closer, wishing she could crawl inside him, lose herself completely to the untamed sensations he yanked from her soul. Her fingers slid through the thick waves of his hair. Soft silk.
He was kissing her face, her cheeks, her jaw, her forehead, the tip of her upturned nose. Her body was alive and dizzy with joy.
She slipped her hands under his jacket, and taut muscles flexed under her touch. If she were a cat, she’d be purring. She pouted when he pulled back. His breathing was hard, but his grip on her was tender. The caress of this thumb trailed fire, raised goose bumps.
Had anyone ever looked at her like that before? She touched the corner of his mouth, a mouth that had consumed her. Passion lay buried in the man, deep and bottomless. She wanted more. She wanted all of it.
A loud croak shattered the mood. Without her even noticing, they’d stopped sinking. She was standing on the bottom of a lake and a fifty-foot frog stared at them.
“Hatter?” She gripped the collar of his jacket.
“This is what I wanted to show you.” His nose was in her hair. Alice felt hot and cold at the same time, her body tense and loose. How could having a man sniff her hair turn her on so much?
She dropped her head onto his chest, loving the sound of his heart beneath her ear.
“Would you like to see?” He sounded anxious and nervous. Sweet. She smiled.
Did he realize how hard it was for her to focus when he touched her? She looked back at the big, ugly frog and wrinkled her nose. “A warty frog?”
His eyes glinted.
“Oh, Hatter.” She couldn’t help teasing him. “Just what every girl wants to see when she’s out on a date with the hottest man alive.” She fanned her face, not noticing how he’d stilled.
He dropped his hands, almost making her stumble back from his abrupt release. She frowned as he walked toward the green-skinned beast.
Just like before, when it seemed she was finally starting to make headway, he’d gone cold and walked off. She clenched her fists, nails biting into the palms of her hands.
Damaged goods. He was totally damaged. So why did it not make her want to run away?
It went deeper than her lifelong obsession with all things Wonderland. This wasn’t a book, and he wasn’t a faceless ideal. The Hatter was in pain. For reasons she could barely understand, she didn’t just want to help him; she wanted to make him better. Wanted to see him whole again, the perfectly wonderful, madcap Hatter.
She rubbed her arms and followed. He stopped by a webbed foot. The frog didn’t budge. It just sat, staring at them with the empty-eyed stare of a predator.
She tiptoed to Hatter’s side and slipped her hand into his lax one, trusting him, though her knees knocked at having to stand so close to the thing.
His fingers were spread, loose, and for a second she worried he might reject her. Then he sighed and gave her a squeeze.
“Ancient frog beneath the waves.” His deep voice rolled through the eerie blackness. “Hiding treasures of olden days.”
The frog’s giant mouth opened, a red yawning maw of death. Its pink tongue whipped out and wrapped around their bodies, the sticky wetness making her yelp. And then it swallowed them.
Alice held tight to Hatter’s hands. She’d show him she didn’t always panic, even though in her mind, she was frantically screaming.
Thankfully, the ride didn’t last long. She landed with legs sprawled, flat on her butt.
Hatter, of course, looked as devilishly delicious as before. Not a thing out of place. His clothes were perfect, his brows were raised, and every hair on his head was exactly as before.
He was laughing, and while the sound made her legs weak and stomach flutter, she was not happy that it was at her expense. Alice held her hand out to him with what little pride she had left.
“You know, you could be a gentleman and help me up instead of staring at me like I’ve grown a third eye.” Her cheeks burned when he jerked her up.
His hands rested casually on her hips. It seemed like he found any reason to touch her now. Not that she minded; she only wished it wouldn’t always be so hot and cold with him.
She crossed her arms and huffed.
He grinned and her heart jerked. He was breathtaking when he did that.
She turned her face to the side, and then her eyes widened when she finally noticed where they were. And the moment she noticed, the cave came alive with a roar of ticktocks.
Thousands, hundreds of thousands, of clocks hung and sat in every conceivable corner of the place. They were mounted inside the rock face, beneath the thick sheet of glass she walked on. Funny ones, nautical ones, bedroom clocks, grand domed clocks with large golden chimes dangling beneath; she’d never known there were so many different types.
Each clock was set at a different time so that some rang the top of the hour while others were just starting a day’s rotation, and some even spun in reverse.
“What is this place?”
He dropped her hand and walked to the center of the room, spreading his arms wide. “My ticktock life. Six o’clock, teatime. Don’t be late. Time. My time.” He was mumbling again, his eyes glazed, lost in a different time and place, looking lovingly at each clock.
It was easy to believe he was crazy when he looked like that. His smile became a frown. He looked at her, and the madness evaporated. “I’ve lost my way, Alice. I’m no good. I’m lost in time. Pieces of myself. Do you understand?”
She’d started walking toward him before she was even aware of doing it. Like he was the spark to her fire, she needed to touch him, needed it as much as she needed her next breath. She reached, smoothing her fingers over his pinched brows, and he shuddered.
“What happened to you, Hatter?”
He took her hand, fingers tight on her wrist.
“Is it Wonderland? Has the magic made you crazy?”
He shook his head, eyes wounded, distant. She gripped the side of his face, forcing his eyes back to her and away from the madness that always pulled at him.
“I am time here. Don’t you see?”
What did that mean? “Are you saying you are time?”
He nodded.
“You?”
“Sometimes…,” he whispered, “sometimes I wish I could leave.” His voice was so low she barely heard him. As if he was afraid to speak too loud. “To be free, unhindered. To work with my hands.” He blinked, and she knew by the way his shoulders tensed up that he struggled to remember something. “But I can never leave. And you never stay.”
She dropped her hands. “But I’ve never been here before, Hatter.”
He gripped his hair with his hands and yanked, hair stuck out in different directions. “Always you. Haunting me, driving me crazy. Making me want what I cannot have.”
She denied it, shaking her head so hard the top hat slipped off. “Hatter, that wasn’t me. That was my great-grandmother. I’m not her!”
He growled and walked up to a cherrywood mantel that appeared like a specter behind him. He rubbed his fingers against a clock face with the obsessive compulsion of a man who’d done it many times before.
“All the same,” he muttered, “you all come, so beautiful. Smells—” He shuddered. “Gods, you all smell so good and I want you, but you’re all selfish, spoiled, and the land says no. And so you go and you never look back; you never remember the man lost in time. Time moves and it gets easier. I can breathe; I can forget. But then it’s time again and I’m weary, weary… weary of you all.”
She covered her mouth, a lump in her throat and hot tears behind her eyes. He didn’t want her at all. Danika was wrong—he couldn’t forget her great-grandmother or apparently any of the others. She wasn’t special to him. How could she be? They barely knew each other. She was just a face passing through.
He turned, brown eyes sparking with frosty hints of frightening anger. “And then you. You’re the worst of them. Quoting poems, telling me”—he swallowed—“things that I cannot believe. Trying to understand me. Always touching me. The heat of your body reaches to me. None of the others did that, none of the others cared. They only wanted the power or they wanted to go. You want to go too, don’t you, Alice?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
[Kingdom 01.0 - 03.0] Kingdom Series Collection Page 9