by A. K. Koonce
“I’ll meet you back at Kais’s.” Just before I turn away from him, his lips part like he’ll say more about it, but he doesn’t.
“I have an errand to run, but I’ll see you tonight.”
We stare at one another for a long moment.
I know when I see him tonight it won’t be like this. He won’t be the smart, funny, sexy man who’s standing before me.
That man will be gone.
And that’s the problem.
Seventeen
Lighton
The migraine cracking through my skull is an appreciated distraction from all the other things clouding my thoughts tonight.
Madison kissed someone riddled with an ancient plague, but my escapism is too much for her.
I heave a heavy sigh as I wait for the signal. A line of thick pine trees shadows me. I stand on the Kingdom’s line. Another three feet and I’d be in Wonderland. I’d just have to make it through the invisible burning barrier the Elders put in place to keep newcomer scum like myself out.
I can see it. From time to time, when the moonlight is bright enough, I can see the shield of magic that glints between Wanderlust and Wonderland.
They did a good job, really. No one has ever passed from our Kingdom into the Dismay Forest.
Except for me.
I wish I knew why he picked me. I guess I looked like a good guy at the time. I’m a mess though, inside and out.
And he’s starting to notice.
I don’t want to give my report tonight. Elder Liddell and I have an agreement though. I pass along the most trivial of information to him, and he lets me pass through Dismay Forest to enter the surface world once a month.
To visit my little sister who doesn’t even know I’m there.
It’s the one time I make sure I’m sober. And now Madison wants that to be a permanent thing for me.
Sobriety.
Sounds painful.
The burning barrier flashes, gleaming with a wave of white magic before shuttering out. It’s the smallest flicker of light.
That’s the signal.
I take three slow steps over the line that divides the two Kingdoms.
Now all I have to do is tell the man who’s been waiting centuries that Alice has arrived.
I’ll risk my arrangement with him by lying. I can’t tell him she’s a fake even though it’ll get her as well as myself in trouble soon enough. Keeping her secrets should tell me that I’m in over my head with this woman. I should consciously realize that. But I don’t.
Maybe I really am crazy.
Eighteen
Madison
They said time does not exist in Wanderlust.
They lied.
It’s been exactly three days, and I haven’t seen the King or his sister since he basically asked me to go steady and then shoved me out of his life.
And for three days, Lighton has been exactly as I knew he would be.
“Why so glum, chum?” He hangs upside down before me, his legs holding himself to the rafters above my bed. Strands of his golden hair pull free and waft around his face as he rocks back and forth with a slow smile cutting across his handsome face.
Here we go again.
“The King is avoiding her.” Kais spreads his long legs wide from the chair next to my bed.
“Wow, really hit the dick on the head with that one.” Lighton nods at his friend who now has a disturbed look crossing his face.
“I think you mean nail.”
“No, I think I mean dick.” Lighton continues to nod and swing from above.
I wonder how much long-term damage all his forgetting tactics are doing to his beautiful mind. God, I hope Brody was lying when he said Lighton was a doctor.
A knock sounds on a door far, far away.
Kais glances down the stairs. Without another word, his image fades away in a matter of half a second. Then with a popping sound, he’s gone.
“He can disappear too?”
“Of course he can. Kais was the first newcomer to Wanderlust. He’s the only one of us who was welcomed in the Kingdom of Wonderland. They thought he was a random anomaly. Then Rotter showed up, and they did not like that. That was a long time ago though.”
“How long have you been here?”
He tilts his head this way and that, making it more of a strange gesture as he hangs upside-down.
“About a year.”
“And you can’t disappear?”
“No, but I can—” He pauses a little dramatically as he smiles at me. And then…he too disappears. In a flash, he comes right back into view in the same place.
“You just disappeared…” I lift my hands at my side, but he shakes his head at me.
“No, Kais and Rotter—they can teleport short distances. I can vanish, turn invisible, but I can’t physically travel anywhere with my magic.” He kicks off from his place, and with a jostling fall, he lands onto the small mattress at my side.
I do note that it’s a sort of acrobatic move involving a small flip. Something very Cirque Du Soleil-ish that I’m going to choose not to comment on at the moment.
Who was Lighton before Wanderlust?
He shifts, settling in and stealing all of my attention. I hate how much my body loves his closeness. His warmth sears into me as he crosses his arms behind his head and really gets comfortable.
“Any…plague like rashes come up yet?”
My eyes hurt by how hard I roll them.
“No. And they’re not going to. Alixx doesn’t have the plague.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re immune. You’re the legendary Alice after all. Your story can’t end before it’s even begun.” His eyes close. I stare at the side of his pretty face like I can glare a hole through that empty hamster wheel if I stare hard enough.
“I’m not Alice.”
“Not yet. When you marry, you’ll have to change your name just like I change your sexy hair.” He absently pushes his fingers through my hair, and my morning red locks turn blonde so easily it makes me want to scream.
In Wanderlust, you can be anyone you want. Unless you’re me. Then you’re fucked into being innocent Alice.
“Who do you think I would be if I wasn’t pretending to be Alice?” I curl in against his side, but I keep a small amount of distance between us. His long fingers continue to stroke through my hair, and he glances at me. He looks at me so closely it’s like he’s just now seeing me, finding every part of me exposed to him.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Like in Wonderland. The storybook. If this were Wonderland, Kais would be the white rabbit. The twins would be Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Cat would be Cheshire. I…don’t have a clue who Alixx would be.”
“Who does that make me?” Lighton asks quietly.
“You’re the March Hare.”
His gaze shifts, his hands halting, strung through my hair while his eyes widen with sad realization.
“The crazy one. Damn. And here I hoped I’d be the dodo.” The humor in his voice is more sad than anything.
“We can change our story at any time, Light.” There’s a gentleness in my voice, and I scoot just slightly closer to him.
His lips tilt up at one side with a half-smile that’s barely holding in place.
“Sure.” He nods to me and falls back against my pillow without another word.
“If I weren’t pretending to be Alice, would I be the Hatter? The Hattress?” I lean closer, pushing my chest against his side to try to remind him that I’m here and to get his nonsensical happiness to return.
Laughter rumbles from his chest, and I’m surprised how easy it is to get him to laugh right now. And then I realize it’s mocking.
“You wouldn’t be the Hattress, Cupcake.”
“Why not? You saw my dress I made. I’m great at that stuff. Is it because I’m not crazy enough?”
“You’re definitely not crazy enough.” He doesn’t look at me as his eyes close slowly, a smile still pulled across his f
ull lips.
“Maybe I could be though.”
“You’re not.” He ignores me until I shove at his arm, pushing his big body until he rocks against my side.
“I could be. If I had a real choice, I could be whatever I want to be. Crazy or not.” My lips purse, and I don’t know why I’m so serious about this right now.
But suddenly, so is he.
He turns, shifting until he’s leaning over me, his big hand clasping over my arm as he stares furious eyes into mine.
“You don’t want that. You don’t want to be like me, Madison. Be Alice. Be anyone else. But don’t be like me.”
My breath catches. He holds me there, pinning me in place for just a moment longer before he leaps over me, jumping from the bed and slamming his shoulder into Kais’s as he goes. He’s downstairs and out of sight in a matter of seconds.
Kais stares after the man before letting it go, it seems. In his hand, a bouquet of glittering white roses overflow from a vase, and my eyes widen at the sight of them.
“Everything okay?” Kais sets the vase down at my bedside table, and he lingers there until I stand up and push my white shirt down over my black pajama shorts.
“It’s fine. You got flowers?” I touch the alluring rose petals, pulling it close to inhale the floral scent but also keeping a little distance because I have no fucking clue if all the pretty things in this Kingdom are as dangerous as they are beautiful.
“They’re from the King.”
I pause, glancing up to the handsome tattooed man at my side.
Kais folds his arms, but I can see the impatience in his face.
“Open the card,” he snaps the order out, and I narrow my eyes at his tone alone. “Please. Please open the card.” The flattest, most half-attempted of all attempted smiles pulls across his lips. It’s something sinfully sexy when a man covered in ink gives you a genuine smile. I feel robbed by the half-assed attempt he’s making right now.
I roll my eyes at him and slowly open the small white card.
“It says, ‘My Dearest Madison, it would be my absolute pleasure if you could please join me for tea in the royal garden this evening. Yours Forever Truly, Constantine Phillip Thomas Doire III.’” Of course he’s the third. The little numbers at the end of his name shouldn’t feel as pretentious as my mind is making them out to be, but I just can’t help it.
“Great!” Kais is all but clapping right now because the King remembered I existed after three days passed.
Are we sure the guy’s obsessed with me? It’s not like I’m crying from lack of attention, but Constantine is a terrible number one fan.
Or maybe he was just obsessed with the idea of having me. That sounds painfully more accurate.
“Great,” I say with much less enthusiasm.
“Okay, now that you’re back in,” Kais starts, his eyes alight with excitement and plotting. Back in because there were a few days there where I was very much on the out. Asshole. “There are a few things we need to take care of before they get us into some trouble.”
My arms cross, but Kais doesn’t notice my annoyance one bit.
“Excuse yourself from dinner—”
“Tea,” I correct flatly, but he’s already carrying on with his plotting.
“Excuse yourself, and then I need you to sneak down to the lower level of the castle.”
“The dungeon. You mean the dungeon?”
“Well, some would call it that, sure.”
“Don’t sugarcoat. You’re asking me to treasonously snoop through the castle and then lurk on down to the fucking haunted dungeon.”
“It’s not haunted. You’re being ridiculous.”
“What’s in the dungeon?”
“In the lower level”—a pointed look is thrown at the feet of my pettiness—“is a door created by an Elder. Through the door is a trigger switch. The switch was created to allow people to enter Wanderlust. We don’t want that. We don’t want anyone else coming through until you’re wed.”
I pause, thinking through what he just told me until something clicks.
“Because you’re afraid the real Alice will show up.”
“It’s a possibility, yes.” His blue eyes hold mine.
“Why wouldn’t you want the real Alice, Kais?”
He continues to keep his serious, unyielding look in his gaze.
“We have you. The outcome will be the same except you’re a sure thing. You’re here now, we don’t know when the real Alice will arrive, but you’re here now. And you’re on our side.”
He wants someone he can control. He must see the disgust in my features because for once, he comes a little closer, giving me one of the very few genuine looks of kindness in his eyes.
“Cat told you I was on the winning side of the American Civil War. I was on the right side of history.” His gaze is vacant as his palm skims lightly down the inside of my wrist. His words are so gentle it hurts my heart just from the sound of them. “What a lot of people don’t remember about the Civil War is there was no winning or losing side in the middle of it all. It was a bloody massacre. War has a price. An incredibly high price. I don’t want that here. I don’t want a war for this realm. If I have my own Alice, if I have you, I know that things will progress amicably between the two Kingdoms.”
The lost look in his sea blue eyes is all I need to understand what he’s saying. He’s always so cold and angry. I want to curl up against him when he shows me the gentleness inside him.
A little part of me begs for me to ask him what will happen if things don’t go according to plan though. What will happen to the False Queen if things go wrong? Will he continue his fake life of playing sides? Or will he pick a side?
Will he pick me?
All these anxious questions burn up my throat, but I don’t ask a single one. Kais is determined. He’s smart. He’s thought of all the possibilities.
I just have to follow orders for once, and we’ll all have the life we want in the end.
“Okay, tell me again where the switch is.”
Nineteen
The Rotter
In a flash of Wanderlust, I’m four stories in the air, sitting on the ledge of Kais St. Croix’s highest window. But it isn’t enough. Too many strung up clothes and colorful cloths hang from the ceiling, blocking my view of my beautiful Friday night.
Her long legs shift from where she sits across the room, but I can’t see an inch higher.
A frustrated puff of air slices through my lips, and with a quick, halfcocked plan, I disappear right inside. The drilling, even sound of a sewing machine running fills the quietness. Silent steps, meant for silent kills, lead me closer to her. Long blonde locks hang halfway down her back, her head tilted low as she passes her white material beneath the quick needle. She’s so focused, so determined right now.
Her lips purse as she comes to the end of the cloth, and I’m reminded immediately of how soft her mouth felt against mine. Never in all the hundreds of years that I’ve existed has my cock ever gotten hard from something as mundane as needle work, but there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.
My head tilts down just behind her, letting my mouth come close to her ear as I watch like the stalking fucking predator that I am.
“Any worrisome rashes, sweet Alice?”
She understandably shrieks. I get that reaction a lot.
Sewing goes askew, chair scrapes, she herself goes toppling backward, chair and all. Fucking woman is a bit less graceful than I originally gave her credit for.
At the very last second, my hands grip the back of her wooden chair, bracing her just before she collides with the floor. I stare into pale, olive green eyes. It’s the purest green. Not a hint of darkness. Easter green.
And then her fist darts out.
Understandably so.
My fingers grip her wrist just before she lands her poorly executed punch. Christ, did no one teach this girl how to defend herself?
Probably the lack of a father figure with
this one. I tally up all the little things I can string together about the woman I’m still holding just an inch above the ground.
Probably a lack of confident men all together in her life.
“What the hell are you doing here, Alixx?”
The smile that curves my lips suppresses the groan that I hide so well every time she says my name.
Who says a plagued man’s name?
No one.
Fucking. No. One.
It’s like they all think a curse will strike them down if they so much as show me any resemblance of humanity.
“Just wanted to make sure your limbs aren’t falling off. Checking to make sure your nose is still attached.”
“That’s a myth of leprosy, and you don’t have leprosy, Alixx.” Those green eyes narrow with a hard glare in her gaze.
“Maybe I wanted to make sure your pretty mouth didn’t fall off then.”
“You’re making house calls because you thought my mouth might have mysteriously turned into a gaping hole in the last three days?”
“I thought it was a real gaping hole before we kissed, but it does sound like a serious possible side effect, my Alice. The plague will do that from time to time, I hear.”
“Get this through your arrogant skull: you don’t have the plague, Alixx. You’re one hundred percent entirely normal.”
“Normal is a very hurtful thing to call someone.”
Her glare turns murderous on me, but I do note that she’s not pushing out of my arms as I hold her, careful not to touch her shoulders from around the wooden chair. I’m still smirking down on her when the very distinct sound of a blade unsheathing scrapes through the room.
“What the hell are you doing here, Rotter?”
That. Now that is a welcoming I’m used to.
The sharp point of a blade slips under my chin, and he forces my attention up to him, my glinting gaze still smirking when I look up at the King’s most trusted fucking advisor. The one and only secret leader of the Rebel Hearts. And the only man who can get this woman killed before her life has even begun here.