Chasing Rabbits

by ERIN BEDFORD

  It wasn’t hard to figure out that the tea pot decided who was in charge of everything, including the conversation. I imagined that was why they were so keen on getting it. Whose sick idea was that? To be forced to talk only when the leader talked and only about what he wanted to talk about? Hare had obviously been in control for a while and it was probably getting old. If I were them, I would just leave, but then again maybe they couldn’t?

  “What now?” I turned to Mop, who was cursing up a storm next to me.

  “That!” Mop gestured out into the fog.

  It seemed to have gotten worse while we had our little visit. It was so dense I couldn’t make out more than a few feet in front of me and that was with a lantern. Getting lost out there would be a nightmare. Who knew what kind of baddies hid in its cover?

  “It’ll take forever to search this mess for Hatter.” I followed Mop’s gaze as it darted toward the owl, who had been tailing us from the beginning. What was with that owl? “I doubt we be havin’ that much time left.”

  “So what do we do?” I held my hands up to the brownie in question.

  “Hare knows!” Trip jumped in. “Hare knows where Hatter goes for tea, Hare does.”

  We all turned to look at Hare. He didn’t even glance up from the tea cup with whom he was having a hushed conversation. Maybe it wasn’t just the tea making them all mad.

  “They want to know where he’s at,” Hare spoke into his cup.

  “Where’s he at?” The door mouse, who had been fiddling with his door knob, looked to Hare with interest.

  “Yes. Where is he at?” Tinkle quirked a nonexistent brow at Hare.

  “Would ye just tell us?” Mop grabbed the cup from Hare’s hand. Slamming it down on the table, its essence spilled onto the cloth. I had a brief moment where I thought ‘Oh what a shame’ before I shoved it down. This place was really messing with my head.

  Hare’s eyes were hard as he hissed, “He’s with the Smiling Cat.”

  “Oh, that’s where he’s at!” The door mouse fiddled with his handle once more as if he’d known all along.

  “He’s crazier than a bat!” Twinkle giggled at his joke.

  “Great, just great!” Mop threw his hands up in the air. “Just what we need, someone else to be wastin’ our time.”

  “They aren’t talking about the Cheshire Cat are they?” I had a sudden image of a fat striped cat with a grin the size of his face.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Mop ignored my question and grabbed the discarded lantern, following an unseen path deeper into the forest.

  “But Mop!” Trip clamored after the brownie. “His highness said not–“

  “I know what he said. But it ain’t like we got a choice, now do we?”

  “Trip guess not, Trip does.”

  Someone had better start answering my questions soon or I was going to get pissed. I wasn’t used to having so many questions and none of the answers. I exchanged a searching look with Trip before we chased after the grumbling brownie.

  It seemed all I was doing lately was running, but at that moment, I would do almost anything to get away from the tea party. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, but staying there was not going to help me become any saner. I kept that thought in mind as we left the party’s occupants behind, their annoying rhyming following in our wake.

  “Ungrateful brats!”

  “Useless gnats!”

  “Hey, where’s my hat?”

  7

  Cheshire S. Cat

  “NO GOOD, PAIN in the arse feline! Don’t know why it had to be him!” Mop grumbled as he stomped his feet with every step he took into the forest. “Worse than a dingle berry bat.”

  I strolled along behind the angry brownie, becoming more amused by the minute at the creative insults with which he was coming up with. I had yet to meet the Smiling Cat, but I was already looking forward to it. If Teeth didn’t cause Mop to fret, how bad could the Cheshire Cat really be?

  “Why do you hate the Cheshire Cat so much? He’s just a cat who speaks in riddles right?” At least, that was what I remembered from the book.

  My eyes darted to the foggy trees when something growled. I jumped and screamed when something slimy brushed my leg in the fog. I hugged myself as the dark laughed at me. Damn it. I hated sounding like one of those defenseless girls who needed to be saved all the time. If only I had a weapon, then we’d see who was laughing.

  “I could do with a good old-fashioned riddle right now,” I muttered to myself.

  “Smiling Cat is not all bad, Smiling Cat’s not.” Trip gripped the edge of my sweatshirt. “But Mop hates Smiling Cat something fierce!”

  “Why’s that?” I turned to Trip, trying to distract myself from the creepy eyes in the forest shadows.

  Trip opened his mouth to speak, but Mop beat him to it.

  “I’ll tell ye why!” The lantern in his hand swung wild in the air. “That damn cat only thinks of himself and what he can get outta it.”

  “But isn’t that the way all Fae are?” I gestured to the two of them. “You guys are only helping me because his royal douchiness would kill you otherwise, right?”

  “Lady must not talk of his highness in such a way, Lady must not!” Trip’s wide eyes searched the trees. “He will take Lady’s head he will!”

  “It’s not like he is going to hear me, you know.” I patted Trip’s head like you would to reassure a child who said something silly.

  “Lady never knows, Lady doesn’t.” The opalaught whispered ominously.

  “Anyway, the Cheshire Cat can’t be any worse than your sorry excuse for a prince.” Our feathery shadow gave an irritated twitter as if it were him I had been insulting.

  Mop’s eyes stared down at the ground, a frown between his brows. “Nah, but he be a close second.” His gaze snapped to mine. “And ye’re right. We were just helpin’ ye to save ourselves, but that was before.”

  “And now?”

  “Ye’re more than just a stinkin’ human now.” His large lips curled into the first hint of a smile I had seen since my adventure began.

  “Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes at the backward compliment. I rated higher than a flea. Great.

  “Trip liked Lady before, Trip did!” The opalaught beamed up at me as his tail wagged in the air. “Lady has yummy carrots, though Lady makes them very hard to get to. That fence hurt Trip’s teeth, it did.”

  “But, Trip, you just said you only liked me for my carrots,” I pointed out. “Besides, if I don’t get out of here there won’t be any more carrots for you to eat.”

  Trip opened his mouth to protest but then quickly closed it. His tail drooped down to the ground as he processed my logic. It was a good thing I didn’t tell him that it was him I had been trying to keep out. I didn’t think his little heart would be able to handle it.

  “Lady is right, Lady is. Trip is sorry.”

  I patted the fur between his ears. “It’s okay. Humans are the same way.” I bent down to his level and crooked a finger at him. “I’ll tell you a secret, though.”

  Trip’s ears perked up and his nose twitched in anticipation. Mop huffed, tapping his foot in apparent impatience. I glared at him and turned back to Trip. Mop would just have to keep his trousers on.

  I tapped a finger on the tip of Trip’s pink nose. “I like Trip too.”

  “Bah! We don’t have time for this. Besides, ye don’t know nothin’.” Mop picked up the lantern and continued on his way. “Ye think humans are self-servin’, but ye haven’t met this cat. He’s manipulative, cunnin’ and two-faced. He always has another agenda.” He ticked each trait off on his hand. “In short, he can’t be trusted.”

  “Plus, Smiling Cat cheats at cards, Smiling Cat does.” Trip gave a solemn nod.

  “Really?” I giggled at the seriousness they were giving the accusation. “That’s why you don’t like him? Isn’t that a little petty?”

  “Not just ‘cos he cheats!” Mop huffed. “When he does lose, he finds every excuse
not to be keepin’ his part of the deal!”

  “Sounds like my sister,” I grumbled to myself. “Why doesn’t your prince want us to see him? Did he play cards with him too?

  “No. No.” Trip shook his head. “His highness would never play cards with the Smiling Cat, his highness wouldn’t.”

  “Why not? Too good for him?” I snorted. I could see the dark-haired prince thinking just that. He was someone who couldn’t be bothered to spend time with the commoners; it might ruin his dark and sexy image.

  “He be royalty,” Mop stated as if the prince’s station was a logical answer.

  “So? Doesn’t he give any thought to his fellow man–uh, Fae? A good ruler knows his people. He doesn’t just lounge around shouting orders and expect to be obeyed.” I placed my hands on my hips, trying to give off an air of confidence.

  Mop and Trip barked out laughing. Trip grabbed his ears in his hands and rocked back and forth, almost to the point of balling up into himself. Mop slapped his thigh; his chuckles causing the lantern to shake in his hand.

  Frowning, I dropped my arms. “What’s so funny?”

  The brownie wiped a tear from his eye. “Ye are. If anyone be shouting orders at anyone it’d be the Queen to him. I highly doubt he be havin’ the time to lounge ‘round, as ye call it, in over a century.”

  “No. No lounging for his highness, no.” Trip gave a small sad shake of his head.

  “Okay.” The word came out slow and unsure. I wasn’t really following their explanation. The prince was a prince to be feared, but he also was a prince who didn’t have any power? It didn’t make sense.

  “And as far as Chess, well not everyone agrees with his reputation so to speak.” Mop gave an awkward chuckle.

  “Reputation?” I quirked a brow, my interest increasing exponentially.

  “Just wait. Ye’ll see what I mean.” Mop waved me off, pushing a tree branch out of his way to reveal another clearing.

  The clearing itself was untouched by the fog, which seemed to fill the rest of the forest. It cut off just at the tree line, creating a perfectly circular outline of milky white. I wished I had that kind of lawn control.

  While the tea party had a sort of ominous lighting, in the clearing it was like the clouds had opened up just enough to illuminate the area. In the middle of the clearing, sparkling in the sunlight was a large willow tree. Its long fuchsia vines were covered in bright violet leaves. They hung all along each side and reached down to brush the ground.

  Mop stopped at the wall of vines as if waiting for something. The vines rippled and whispered, even though there was no wind to move them, and then the vines pulled back, opening like a curtain. A lone vine whipped inward as if to welcome us inside.

  Mr. Blue Eyes didn’t follow us into the depths of the tree. He landed on a tree branch outside the clearing and was hooting and ruffling his feathers in an agitated manner. I had a feeling he didn’t approve of our destination. It made me doubt that the cat was the kind of help we wanted.

  My eyes wandered about the tree as I tried to take everything in. I felt like I just stepped out of a demented kid’s nightmare and into a sugary fairyland. There was no longer a squishy floor or gnashing teeth, or a table full of tea-addicted animals. Once inside the willow branches, I discovered exactly what I always imagined Wonderland to be.

  Luminescent emerald green grass carpeted the ground in place of the fog-covered dirt. Scattered across the grass were flowers of every hue and color. A path of grass lined by bright pink mushrooms trailed up from the willow vines and up to the base of the tree where a lone figure was splayed out on a high-backed chair, enwrapped in the fuchsia-colored vines, which appeared to be more of a throne, especially the way its owner lounged upon it.

  One eggplant-painted leg, encased in a matching knee-high boot, was thrown over the side while the other stretched out along the ground. The tightness of his pants caused a slight heat to rise to my cheeks. There was no mistaking what gender their owner was. I tried my best not to stare, but the multitude of extravagant leather and fur belts wrapped around his waist made it impossible to cast my attention elsewhere.

  “As much as I enjoy your ogling of my goods. And I do enjoy a good ogle.” Though, he was still a few feet away, when the figure purred I felt it sliding up my spine. “What is it that you humans say? Oh yes.” Fighting the need to shiver, I watched as a clawed hand, which was holding a leather riding crop, pointed up to his face. “My eyes are up here.”

  I followed the riding crop up along the expansion of his well-defined abs, and over his muscular vest-covered chest, and locked onto big crystal green orbs circled by long pale lashes. A straight nose led the way down to a fang-tipped smile. I had the sudden urge to say ‘Oh my!’ but swallowed it as quickly as it came up.

  “There’s a pet.” Pale pink and purple striped cat-like ears twitched on top of a head of long pale pink hair that had been braided over one shoulder and hung down to his waist.

  Mop snorted next to me as he glared at our host who unwrapped himself from his throne. His slender form glided toward us, one foot in front of the other, like a large feline stalking his prey. The furry pink and purple striped belt unwound from his waist and flicked in the air behind him, but his eyes never left mine.

  This beautiful creature couldn’t be the Cheshire Cat? He looked like he belonged in a rock band as opposed to the middle of a Fae forest. I gulped as I realized the tingling in my spine was still there. I knew I was in trouble.

  “Well, isn’t this a lively bunch?” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he took in our raga band group.

  Mop, who had an irritated frown, crossed his arms and glowered at the Fae. Meanwhile, Trip just stood there with a content grin on his face as he played with his tail. As for me, I was fighting the need to melt into a pile of goop on the floor.

  Stepping toward me, he wrapped his tail around my waist as he drew me into him. I held my hands up to ward him off and ended up touching the hard surface of his bare chest. My fingers had a mind of their own, and before I could stop myself, they began to trace the faint scars that marred his chest. When a purr rumbled through his chest and into my hands, I jerked back and my already red face became as hot as a tamale.

  Dropping my hands seemed like a bad idea, but I would’ve been touching him more intimately than I would’ve liked. I decided to wrap my arms around myself in a hug in hopes that it would somehow protect me.

  The laugh from my captor reverberated out of him and vibrated down into the tail wrapped around my waist. Similar to the prince, his laugh made my toes curl and parts of me felt hot with need. What was it about the Fae men that affected me so? Why did they all look like they came out of Wet Dreams ‘R’ Us while the rest of the UnSeelie Court’s occupants were deranged animals?

  “Aren’t you a peach?” He purred in my ear and pressed the length of the riding crop against my lower back, drawing me against him. His nose trailed into my hair as he inhaled my scent. “Do you taste just as good as you look?”

  My breath caught in my throat as the tip of his nose slid across the side of my neck. I didn’t know what was going on, but I felt like I was losing IQ points with every new male Fae I met.

  I wasn’t some blushing virgin. I had boyfriends in the past. Hell! I’d even had friends with benefits, but for some reason, I couldn’t explain why my insides quivered with every touch of his clawed hands. I even reacted weirdly when the prince gripped my arm. It hurt, but in a good way. Not that I would have admitted it out loud.

  “Knock it off ye lech! She ain’t here for that!” Mop’s grouchy voice broke through whatever spell the cat had me under.

  I shook my head to clear it and jolted back from the body still pressed up against mine. Space was good. Lots of space. The toothy grin I received as I moved away only solidified my desire to not let him touch me again.

  “So, you’re the Cheshire Cat?” I cleared my throat and tried to pretend he didn’t affect me. I forced my eyes up to his face when
they tried to wander back down to the bare skin of his chest. Eye contact. Eye contact was good.

  “Cheshire S. Cat, but you, my lovely sweet,” he bowed to me, grabbing my hand before I could object. “…may call me Chess.” His mouth snaked across the back of my hand, the tip of his tongue tasting the skin there.

  His tongue was slightly rougher than a human’s, kind of like a cat’s. A vision of what else he could do with his tongue popped into my mind before I squashed it. I was so not going there.

  “Great.” I snatched my hand back, rubbing it on my shorts as if it would remove the tingling his mouth left there.

  Chess made a satisfied purr deep in his throat, the pink tip of his tongue dancing across his lips. “You do taste as good as you look.” His crystal eyes trailed down my bare legs, making me fidget in place.

  The feral look in his eyes could’ve been food or sex. It was hard to tell the difference, which I guess was true for most men. Apparently, the Fae weren’t that different from humans in that aspect.

  I watched his clawed hand stroke his chest in a sensual manner and gulped. Sex, definitely sex.

  I really didn’t see what was so appealing about me. I was short. I didn’t have nice long legs, and I was wearing my least attractive pajamas. My breasts were all right sized. I didn’t have a flat butt, but I also wasn’t winning any awards for it. My eyes were too narrow and my nose too pointed. I had freckles on every inch of my face. The only time I usually used makeup was to cover them up in the summer months when the sun made them stand out even more. I was average on a large scale. The only thing I had going for me was my thick copper hair. It was not quite straight or curled, leaving it impossible to fashion in any way that was presentable. For some reason, it drew more attention than I liked, even with my mediocre features.

  Was it just the fact that I was human that made them interested, or were all Fae men perverts? I was betting on perverts.

  “Don’t mind the cat. He be all bark and no bite.” Mop frowned harder, if that was possible, at the leering feline.