Nothing at all.
Looking down, I find three simple apps on a plain black background—one to make calls, one to send texts … and something with the symbol of a bomb for its icon. I'm not even going to fucking ask about that one. When I turn the phone over to inspect it, I see that it's sitting inside a glass case with gold and copper gears and cogs, spinning and ticking away beneath the surface.
Huh.
I flip it back over and start to dial Edith's number.
“If you're trying to call outside Underland though,” Tee continues as Dee looks at his brother in annoyance, “then you'll be sorely disappointed. There is no service outside of Underland.”
I feel the edge of my mouth twitching in annoyance as I start to hand the phone back to him and notice the corner of his lips tilting up in a small, self-satisfied little smile. What a freaking asshole, man. He holds his palm out for the phone, but I just chuck it his way and watch as he struggles to keep it from hitting the floor.
“This is the door we're going through?” I ask as Tee glares at me and Dee grins like a gothic anime GQ model on crack.
“It is,” he says as I kneel down and, like the original Alice in the books, peer through the lock and into the garden. “King's personal gardens,” Dee continues as I blink and try to make sense of what I'm seeing. A white and red castle towers over an intricately planned and meticulously maintained series of hedges, flower gardens, and … giant fucking mushrooms. They're the size of trees.
I blink stupidly and lean in closer, barely listening to Dee as he talks.
“There's only one way out of Underland and that's through the Looking-Glass, but you need permission from the King to use it. And this door here, it's the only direct portal into the garden—or anywhere near the castle grounds really.”
As I watch, a man—another ridiculously handsome specimen of masculinity—marches down the white gravel path like he's on a mission, pausing at the rustling of a nearby bush and stopping at a crossroads, next to a white bench covered in red hearts.
Based on the crown he's wearing, the cruel set to his jaw, and the hard glint in his eyes … it doesn't take a genius to make the connection—the King of Hearts then?
“I can see the king,” I blurt and hear Tee grumbling from behind me.
“I can see your panties,” he adds, and I clench my teeth, reaching back to tug my skirt over my ass. Doesn't help much, but I can't seem to pull myself away from what I'm seeing. From the rustling bushes … steps the rabbit-eared murderer.
I can't quite make out what he's saying, but I stare in fascination as he kneels before the king, a pair of white kid gloves in one hand, and a knife in the other. He offers the blade on his outstretched palm, his chin dipped in deference. The cruel king reaches out and tousles the raven-dark hair of the rabbit-eared boy, almost mockingly.
'King's orders.'
That's what he'd said just before shooting Brandon. So somehow, my classmate, chess geek and senior year crush, Brandon Carmichael was mixed up in all this Underland stuff?! I don't see how, but then, I also didn't figure on him getting shot in the face at a high school party. Things aren't always what they seem, right?
But shit if I can look away from the king's face. I don't think I've ever seen a man quite as beautiful as that, both infallible and yet … also flawed. It's a strange conundrum—his perfect hair, red as blood, his perfect clothes … and that ragged scar that traces from his lower lip and down his chin, across his neck. It's as if his throat was slit at some point, like someone tried to take off his head.
“Oh! The Duke, the Duke! Oh! Won't he be savage if we've kept him waiting?” a voice says, much more clearly than the murmuring voice of the king and his rabbit. A foot steps in front of the door, effectively blocking my view of the two ethereally beautiful men. Whoever it is continues forward and I notice that he, too, has a tail and bunny ears.
What the fuck?!
I pull myself away from the keyhole and stand up, brushing my hands down the knees of my harlequin patterned tights. There are tiny red spatters of blood on the white, but I ignore it for the moment. Brandon's murderer is on the other side of this door; I'll be coming face-to-face with him again soon enough. But frankly, I'll march right past him if it means getting out of here.
“So, where are the other FUCKING DRINK ME bottles?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as Dee moves over—now dressed in an black and white striped button up … with all the buttons undone, as well as combat boots with buckles. Like the rabbit-eared murderer, these too have hearts on the toes. He kneels down and picks up a tiny key that I overlooked before, so small he has to wet his fingertip with his tongue and touch it to the shimmer of metal to make it stick. He rises to his feet and then slips it into the pocket of his black denim jeans. They're so tight, they look fucking painted. “Let's shrink to size and get this over with.”
Dee and Tee share a look which scares the shit out of me, this perfect pair of dream boyfriends in front of a tattered black curtain and walls the color of blood. I know most of my classmates would flip their shit to be stuck in a room with these men and all I can do is wonder how the hell I'm going to get out of here.
“Rab took one and smashed the rest,” Dee says with a slight shrug of his shoulders and then his smile … it takes on a torrid twist that makes my throat tight, pebbles my skin with goose flesh. Oh dear. That look … I can't tell if it promises either pain or pleasure. “But that's okay—you have us.”
“Rab?” I ask, reaching up to rub at my temples.
“Rab,” Tee breathes, like he's trying his very hardest not to scream at me. He moves over to the chaise, getting awfully close. As he passes by, I get a whiff of what smells like cool mountain air, crisp and fresh, like a virgin layer of snow's just fallen. I pretend that scent does nothing for me and turn to watch him as he picks up a pair of leather belts and hands one to his brother. “The king's favorite lackey, the White Rabbit.”
Tee turns to look at me, his violet eyes flashing with irritation, like he's trying ridiculously hard not to stab me with the giant fucking knife that's hanging from the belt in his hands.
“The White Rabbit,” I breathe because, you know, of course. In the original book, Alice's adventure starts when she meets the White Rabbit, just before she falls down the fucking rabbit-hole …
“Rab, yeah, the guy who shot your assassin,” Tee grinds out, clearly frustrated with me already. It's been what, fifteen minutes since we met? That doesn't bode well.
“My … my what?!” I don't generally like repeating myself, nor am I a fan of asking too many questions. But come on—when a supernaturally sexy stranger tells you that your high school crush, the nerdy one with the thick glasses and a pimple, is an assassin, you question that shit.
“Your assassin,” Dee says, coming over to stand in front of me. Now that he's not nude, I'm starting to notice other things about him, like how damn tall he is. He reaches past me to the chaise and snatches up a hat, tucking it on his head. It's a black wool and leather motorcycle peaked cap with a red heart on the very top. My heart skips a little when he leans in close to me, his sapphire eyes ringed in black liner. “What was his name, Tee?”
“Brandon Carmichael,” Tee says, pulling out a silver pocket watch similar to the one the White Rabbit—Rab—was using before. Talk about a cliché—these people have all the Alice ones down pat.
“Right,” Dee says, grinning impishly at me. “Brandon Carmichael, the private assassin for the King of Clubs.”
I cross my arms over my chest and cock a brow.
“Brandon Carmichael, the geeky king of nerds, the kid I've known since preschool whose hair I used to pull, captain of the chess team … Sorry, but I've seen him fill his time with after-school cram classes and SAT prep courses. When the hell would he have time to learn to kill people?”
Dee grabs a second hat off the chaise lounge and moves over to his brother, settling it onto his head and carefully arranging the loose tufts of hair that a
re sticking out over his forehead. He steps back, puts his hands on his hips and nods like that's that.
Neither twin bothers to acknowledge my question.
“Hello?” I say, waving a hand in their direction. “How the hell would Brandon Carmichael have gotten involved in … whatever the fuck all of this is anyway?”
Tee gives me a look that speaks volumes as to how he feels about me—he thinks I'm an idiot. Well, I'm also a reader and I've seen every trope in the book. Please. Treating the human newcomer to the supernatural world like she's stupid for not automatically knowing all their strange customs? Not cool, bro.
“Brandon Carmichael is a Rabbit. He was sent Topside with the sole purpose of keeping an eye on the Alice,” Dee says, his smile ratcheting up a notch as he affects a sharp bow and then straightens up with his smile-turned-rictus-grin. “Now, Tee, you know what you have to do …”
Tee's jaw tightens and he glances away sharply, raising his palms to rub at his face. When he does, the sleeves of his black and white striped button up slide down his wrist a bit, revealing flashes of the tattoos on the backs of his arms, the edges of those purple and black wings.
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. I don't mean to stand here and force these guys to info dump but … Brandon's a Rabbit? And what is all this Alice business? But then … I'm about to go home anyway, right? Does it really matter? Either none of this really happened and I'm still tripping hard on one of Edith's fancy party drugs or else, I'm about to jump ship and never come back, so who gives a shit? “Never mind.”
I put my hands on my hips and nod at the guys.
“You ready?” Dee asks, and the look on his face is … envious? Of what, of whom, I'm not sure. Definitely not the girl with the dress covered in blood, right? “Alright, Tee, unbutton those pants.”
Tee reaches down to the button on his black jeans and pops it open before I can even think to protest. He's got the zipper down before I can remember how to make words.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I snap, moving over and snatching him by the wrists. My fingers feel like they're burning in all the places we touch and my breath catches, heart thundering as my throat gets tight and I struggle to swallow. “You just put pants on, so why the hell would you take them off again? I already told you—I'm not interested in gifts from the king and I'm really not interested in human slavery, alright? This is the twenty-first century; that shit is barbaric.”
Dee laughs, like this is all just a silly misunderstanding.
“We need to shrink, Alice,” he says, pointing down at the little door. “And Rab drank the last potion and broke the rest, remember?”
'But that's okay—you have us.'
Oh.
Dee had said that, hadn't he?
Then again, what the fuck does that have to do with Tee taking off his pants?
As if he can read my mind, Dee points at himself first.
“Eat Me,” he says and then swings his finger over to his brother. “Drink Me.”
I just stand there for a moment and stare, gaping in shock. As soon as the implications of those phrases hit me, my hands on Tee's wrist feel … almost lascivious. Jerking backward, I step away from the twins and bump into the chaise lounge, nearly falling on my ass. I manage to keep my feet and find myself in some sort of weird crouching position, like I'm preparing for a fight. One hand rests over the large dress pocket that holds the gun.
“You're not implying what I think you're implying … are you?” I ask, my voice husky and quiet and dangerous. I might be a little nerdy, a little more into books than people … but I still know how to kick some ass when needed. “Are you asking me to suck him off?”
“The previous King of Hearts slaughtered our people,” Tee snaps, and … are his cheeks turning slightly pink?! “Why do you think we're the only ones left?”
“Clue—it's not just these handsome faces,” Dee says, grinning maniacally and then he coughs, snapping his booted feet together and clasping his hands together behind his back. “Tweedledum and Tweedledee agreed to have a fight,” he sings and his brother groans, releasing his hold on his pants but not bothering to button or zip them up. “For Tweedledum said Tweedledee had fucked up his Saturday night. Just then flew down a monstrous witch, who'd witnessed their full quarrel. A rather powerful but judgmental bitch, she cursed them both immoral.”
“What … what the fuck does that mean?!” I ask, and I realize I've probably asked this question about a hundred times in the last ten minutes but … come the hell on!
“We were cursed with … well, the same magic the king's bakers put into his tinctures and cakes. Tee here can make you as small as a mouse.” Dee gestures at the door and then points at his bare chest, his muscles visible between the lines of his slightly rumpled dress shirt. “And I can make you as big as a house.”
“A house and a mouse,” Tee repeats, taking back up the creepy twin mantle. “Right now you need to be a mouse so …”
“Drink Me is literal?!” I snap because, like, that's fucking gross. “Whoa, buddy, you've got another thing coming if you think this is happening right now. I'm not giving some guy a blow job just so I can go through some stupid door. Are you stupid?”
Tee's face crinkles in anger and Dee sighs.
“Well, you don't have to give him head per se,” Dee begins, but I can already see where this is going. Drink Me, huh? Well, I'm not drinking anything related to these twins, their dicks, or anything else for that matter.
“No.”
Just one word, simple and succinct. Nostrils flaring, I stand up straight from my battle crouch and glare daggers at the boys.
“If we don't go through to the gardens, we'll have to go the long way around …” Dee muses as Tee angrily buttons and zips his black denim pants.
“I know what you're thinking about, but it isn't so, no-fucking-how,” Tee growls.
“Contrariwise,” Dee continues, eyes sparkling mischievously as he studies me. I might find him cute if he hadn't just asked me to suck his brother's dick and swallow. Gross. “If it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.”
Ignoring their nonsensical banter, I decide to add my own two cents.
“Can't we just stick our arm through that little door and wave around until someone notices us? They can pop a few potions through from the other side and voilà, problem solved.”
Tee snorts at me and I snap a glare over to him.
“That's not how the portals work,” Dee says, giving his brother a look. Sapphire eyes meet violet ones and I just know they're having some sort of private twin conversation. “You really don't want to know what'll happen if you simply stick your arm through without the rest of you following after. We'll have to go the long way.”
“The king won't be pleased,” Tee whispers, but I cross my arms over my chest and hold his gaze.
“You said you belong to me and that it was my choice what we do. I'm not sucking Tee off, so we're going the long way.”
“You heard it from the Alice herself,” Dee says, sounding a little … too excited at the prospect of the 'long way', whatever that means. “What choice do we have but to comply? And truly, isn't this all Rab's fault to begin with? If he hadn't been such a brute and broken the other DRINK MEs then everything would be just fine, wouldn't it? Or, perhaps, you just weren't charming enough.”
“The long way will take days,” Tee adds, glancing over at me. The weird part is, he seems almost relieved. Maybe he didn't want me to suck him off either? “A week or maybe two depending.”
“A week or two?!” I ask, pointing down at the little door. “But the garden is right there.”
“No,” Tee snaps, swiping his palms down the front of his shirt and then beginning to slowly button it up. His brother doesn't seem inclined to copy him in that respect. “The gardens are hundreds of miles away, and the going's rough; Underland is not a kind or forgiving place.”
As if my world is, I think
angrily, keeping Tee's stare and holding it until Dee steps between us. I feel like that's what Tee's insinuating, that I must've had it easy. As if. My mother's in prison for life and my father's disconnected and checked out. He spends more time with the koi fish in his pond than he does with his daughters.
“However it is,” I say, gritting my teeth, “I can handle it.”
“Come now, let's take the door to The Pool and rent a boat, shall we?” Dee asks, turning and leading the way back through the tattered curtain and over to another one of the doors that lines the hall. He pulls a ring of gold keys off his belt and unlocks it, the scent of brine and mold drifting into the strange hallway.
Sucking in a deep breath, I follow after Dee and into Underland.
Secretly, somewhere deep down inside my chest, I'm actually … relieved that I don't have to go back.
Secretly, some part of me wonders if I'd be disappointed if I never did.
The Pool is a disheveled old building, made of rotting wood and sitting precariously on the edge of a large river. The waters are deep blue and volatile, frothing as they crash into rocks and part around the stilts of the old dock. Boats bob and bounce, barely secured in place with thick rope and heavy knots.
The whole place stinks of salt and mildew, like the very wood boards I'm standing on are liable to fall apart and crumble into the water at any moment. It's dark out which is a small relief—this place is strange enough without worrying about time warps or whatever the fuck. I just tell myself it's the same time here as it is back home and try not to think too hard on the subject.
Across the river, I can see a thick stand of woods, with trees as tall as the redwoods back home, their trunks as wide in circumference my father's SUV. No, wider. Big enough to drive through if there were a tunnel there. I can see more of those giant mushrooms, too, like the ones in the king's garden, breaking up the blackness of the trees with white and red and purple, their gills glowing with a faint luminescence.
Glancing over my shoulder, past Tee's frowning face, I see more of the same. Trees and mushrooms and nothing else.
Allison's Adventures in Underland Page 3