"He knows that if he poisoned you, I'd blow his head off," March clarifies as he gestures absently in Red's direction.
"I didn't poison anyone," Red says with a cruel smile that stretches the scar on the edge of his mouth. "If I wanted someone dead, I'd simply take their head." He adjusts his crown and then lifts his chin. "So Your Majesty, please pick a man and start the questioning."
"I start?" I ask and several of the men nod, like that's the obvious route. "Okay, then … Red." I turn to look at the King and try not to scowl. "Did you really bring me here with the sole purpose of showing the court how useless I am?"
"Yes," he answers without hesitating, sitting up and crossing his arms over his broad chest. I can hear Tee growling from beside me. "I don't like you, and I think you're a useless figment of the past. The Alice you might be, but I don't need your help to right Underland's wrongs."
"I suggest you watch your tongue when you speak to my bloody mate," North growls, skin rippling like he's having a physical reaction to watching me be disrespected. "You know I can't handle that."
"My turn," the King says, ignoring the Duke and the order in which March passed out the cups; he looks straight at me as Raiden snarls some very creative curse words in the background. Like I said, battle of the alpha titan assholes. "If I were to give you the key to the Looking-Glass right now, would you leave? Would you run?"
"I'd go, but I'd come back," I blurt, digging my nails into my thighs to stop myself from elaborating on that. But I guess those truth herbs are really fucking strong, and I can't seem to hold myself back. "I can't leave my family not knowing. I also don't think I can abandon Underland, not anymore."
The King's mouth flattens into a thin line.
"Sorry, not sorry to disappoint you," I spit out, and I don't even try to fight the herbs on that one.
"The Knave wants you dead," he says, and then he cringes slightly as I raise my brows.
Well.
Now I don't feel so bad about hating the bitch.
"Why would the Knave want the Alice dead?" North says, slapping his heavy, muscular tail against the stone floor in a rhythmic pattern. "She wants your dick, doesn't she, Red?"
"She wants to be the Queen of Hearts," the King says, which is virtually the same thing. "I'm not sure if she wants to kill me or fuck me."
"She can't be queen," North growls, his nails lengthening at the end of his fingertips. "She isn't the Alice. The prophecy most specifically mentions the Alice. And you, you should be ashamed of yourself for trying to get rid of her. Fucking wanker." The Duke leans back in his chair with the gilded gold frame. He just sort of melts into it, draping his body elegantly across the navy blue velvet cushions.
"I should have you beheaded," Red says, but then the truth herbs kick in and he adds, "but I never will."
"No, you shouldn't. I hear a jabberwock can still bite with its head cut off." North taps his nails against the table and then scowls. "And now the Mad Hatter may have one question."
"I have a quest, not a question," Raiden Walker says, his mouth curling into a cheeky little smile. "For the Alice."
"Shocker," I say with a roll of my eyes. "What do you want?"
"I want you to let me drink your blood—and I dare you to enjoy it." The Mad Hatter lets his smile eat up his entire face, shadows from the fireplace dancing across his pale skin.
"Those are two separate things," I mumble, but I can already feel my cheeks heating.
Avid reader, remember? Like I've never fantasized about what it would feel like to be bitten by a vampire … Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I'm going to enjoy this too damn much, aren't I?
"I'm only asking you to let me as a quest," Raiden says, running his tongue over his lower lip. "Whether you enjoy it or not, that's up to you."
"What happens if I refuse the dare—err, quest?" I ask, not because I really want to, but because I feel like I need to make some sort of motion to pretend I'm not as eager as I am.
"Then you're out," Lar explains, folding his wings behind him. "You don't get to ask anymore questions although you must answer them."
"And if I refuse to answer?" I ask, and several of the guys chuckle at me.
"The herbs won't let you refuse." Lar smiles, gold bangles dangling on his arms as he leans back in his chair.
"Well, there's no way in fuck I'm letting myself lose this game," I say, standing up from my seat, and throwing some rainbow and blonde hair back from my face. I move over to the Mad Hatter and sit down on his lap before I can stop myself.
And oh.
Holy shit, that feels nice.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer, filling my nose with that metallic, bloody scent of his, making my heart flutter strangely in my chest. I reach up to take his top hat off and hear several of the men make sounds behind me. Guessing it's taboo to touch the Mad Hatter's hat?
Still, he lets me take it off. And the next one. And the next one. The fourth hat is a small white one with the name Alice in gold cursive on the tag. It has red hearts, a big black feather, and black lace on it.
It's unspoken that it's supposed to be mine.
"A gift," Raiden says as I take the top hat and put it on my head. I can almost feel it sealing to my skull and let out a little yelp. "A spell to keep it on your head," he explains as I experimentally lift it up and set it back down again. Weird, but useful, I suppose. "It's got a little extra magic in there, too, just in case."
He sweeps my hair over my shoulder with long fingers, making me shiver as I close my eyes tight.
"This might hurt, at first," he whispers, kissing the side of my neck and sending hot, excited little thrills zinging through my blood.
"This is sexual, Alice," Tee says, his voice rife with worry. "If you don't want him to touch you like that, just refuse the quest. I'll ask your questions for you." His offer makes me smile, but I'm not backing down from this.
Not only will my stubborn side not allow it, but it … feels really freaking good, too.
Raiden licks his way over to the throbbing pulse point in my throat, putting his lips to it and tasting me as I struggle to hold back a groan, wiggling on his lap and feeling his cock hardening beneath my ass.
His teeth graze my skin, lighting every nerve-ending I have on fire.
When Raiden bites me, sinking his fangs into my neck, there's this white-hot burst of pain behind my eyelids that makes me cringe. I'm about to shove him back and pull away when a delicious heat spreads through me, invading my blood, poisoning me from head to toe. I let out a little whimper and sag against him as his arms tighten around me, and he growls against my throat.
I swear there's a string between that bite and my clit, yanking and pulling on it, making it throb. Like I wasn't already hot and bothered from what happened between Rab and me. But this, this is overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning in my own pleasure.
Raiden takes his sweet time, sucking and licking, twirling his tongue around each of the teeth marks on my neck before he bites me again. And again. And again. Leaving his mark on my neck.
His arms tighten around me and I can't help but wiggle on his lap, eliciting a sharp groan from his throat. The sound weaves around and through me, almost like a drug, and I find myself melting into him.
"That's enough of that," the King says, and there's a strange tightness in his voice that's either jealousy or longing or both.
I pull away from Raiden, slamming into the table and knocking over several ceramic tea pots. One rolls to the floor and shatters, but I'm too dizzy and disoriented to care. My head is spinning and I'm not sure if it's from the bite or the tea or what.
"Holy crap," I groan, using the table to feel my way back toward my chair. I end up in Dee's lap instead, and he helps steady me. "Is that … the bite or the tea?"
"Both," Raiden says, and he sounds … explosive. Not at all like the cool, calm psychopath he's been presenting himself as. "It's fucking both."
He's panting
heavily, a bit of blood smeared across his mouth. When I lift my fingers to touch the bite, it feels too good and I let out a small groan of pleasure. My fingers are stained with red when I stand up, smearing across the surface of the table as I do my best to make it back to my chair.
As soon as I slump into it, I know I'm not going to make it very long.
We have to drink a fresh cup of tea after each round? You've got to be fucking kidding me.
"North," the March Hare says, ears twitching as he grins, his teeth white in his dark face. "Your turn."
"My question is for the Cheshire Cat," he says, surprising me. I sort of figured almost all of the guys would go for me. Egotistical much? The Duke turns toward his friend and leans in close. Chesh does the same until they're nose to nose, tails twitching in a similar rhythm.
"Do you like the Alice? Or are you simply after her because she's my mate?" His accent flows over me like water and invades my brain. I am so high, y'all. Like, higher than a goddamn kite. My head lolls against the back of the chair as I blink through a foggy haze and start to sway to imaginary music.
"Maybe a little bit of both?" Chesh says, triangular ears swiveling on the top of his head. He flattens one back against his dark hair and then glances over at me. "She's growing on me, you know. And she seems to like princes. Must be part of the prophecy?"
"You're a prince, too?" I ask, just barely managing to swing my gaze over to him.
"I'm a cat," he says, flashing me pointed little kitty teeth. "All cats are princes."
What a non-answer. But I'm too high to question it.
"Looks like I'm next," March says, rubbing his hands together and then plucking up a sugar cookie in the shape of a pink bat. He bites into it and then gestures at me. "Okay, Doll," he says, and even though I'm feeling out of it, I roll my eyes at that. "Are you afraid?"
"Am I afraid?" I ask, and the question gives me cold chills.
Because the answer … is yes.
After meeting the Mocking Turtle and the Gryphon, after seeing the King so callously kill one of his card servants, after hearing the Mad Hatter tell me he'd like the Duke to be raped and killed … How am I supposed to tell who the bad guys are anyway?
"Yes," I say, because I'm just an eighteen year old girl from nowhere … but the question is, am I destined for somewhere? Am I really meant to be something? Prophecy or no prophecy, it's really up to me, isn't it? Only I can decide.
"True fear is fine," March says as he looks at me with eyes the color of coffee with cream. I want to drink them up, savor them against my tongue. Aaaand how high did that shit sound just now? Jesus. "It's how brave you are in the face of it that matters."
"Excellent question," Rab says, smoking his cigarette with this easiness that invades every action he takes. He's just so damn confident, but also a little bit scary. I think about him holding me over that pile of bones beneath the Rabbit-Hole, and I can hardly match the memory to my current reality. It’s no use going back to yesterday; I was a different person then. "But mine's better. Mine isn't simply a question but a quest which is funny because question is actually longer than quest, but I suppose spelling doesn't much matter tonight?"
"Just get on with it," Tee grumbles, slipping out of his jacket and using his napkin to wipe sweat from his neck and chest.
"My quest is for you to let me prick you, Miss Alice." Rab taps his cigarette ash onto the floor and then flicks the butt across the table and into the fireplace. Pretty impressive. But I'm still sitting there fucked off my ass on boosted tea and trying to figure out what he's really saying.
"You want to give me a tattoo?" I ask, because if he wanted to sleep with me, he'd just come out and say it. Well, I'm sure he does want to sleep with me, but I feel like there must be an unspoken rule not to ask for sex during the Torrid Tea Party. Although the word torrid means ardent or passionate, right?
"Exactly that," the White Rabbit says, leaning forward in his chair and steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "So do you accept my quest, Sonny Liddell?"
"I've always wanted a tattoo." The words burst from my lips before I can stop them. Fucking truth plants or whatever the hell they are. There must be a cooler name than truth herbs, right? Everything else here has weird names. "Okay."
"Allison," Tee says, and I get the idea that maybe I've agreed to something I don't quite understand.
"Come here," Rab says, leaning back and patting his knee. It takes a lot of effort for me to stand up, pushing my bat dress down my thighs because it keeps riding up. No wonder I only wear jeans at home. That's one thing I'm really starting to miss. Note to self: if I ever do go back through the Looking-Glass, I need to snatch my favorite denim to bring back with me.
Back with me?
Wow. Look at that. I've already committed myself to coming back to this crazy place.
Because … I can't just let Underland descend into madness, now can I?
Steadying myself with my palms on the table, I make my way over to Rab, using the backs of Tee's and Dee's chairs to keep myself upright until I reach him. And then I tumble right into his lap, same way I did to the Hatter.
"Where do you want me … I mean it, Miss Sonny Liddell," he whispers, tucking some loose hair behind my ear.
"Where do I want it?" I ask, looking down at my bare thighs. I tap the left one as the blood sloshes around in my head like waves in a storm. I'm so fucked up right now, but I also figure that I've always wanted a tattoo. How could I possibly regret this?
Sounds like something a drunk person would say, huh?
Rab reaches out and pulls one of the tea pots close to him, lifting the lid and … removing a tattoo machine full of gears and cogs?! What in the ever-loving fuck?
"Who puts a tattoo gun in a teapot?" I slur, even though I've been told by several different tattoo enthusiasts that it's rude to call it a gun. It's a machine.
"Someone who's mad," the White Rabbit says, setting the machine aside and then tapping his fingers against the sheathed Vorpal Blade. "May I borrow your knife, Sonny?" He whispers my nickname against my ear and I shiver.
"For what?" I ask, but Rab's already ripping the sheath open and sliding his fingers along my thigh. My breath catches, and I feel that pulsing heat between my legs like it's shouting at me via vagina-megaphone.
Rab slides the knife out and then tugs a small China creamer over. He empties the cream out into his empty tea cup then cuts his wrist, bleeding a profuse amount into the pink and white harlequin patterned China.
I watch mesmerized as he massages ruby red droplets from his wrist, grabbing yet another teapot and adding some steaming hot tea to his bloody concoction.
I'm weirded the fuck out, but nobody else seems bothered by what Rab's doing, so I just wait. I've seen a man turn into a cat, prophecies played out on faerie wings come to life, and a living card have its neck snapped. I may never be shocked by anything ever again.
"And a little sweetness, just for you, Sonny," Rab says, adding a bit of sugar to the mixture and stirring it up with a teaspoon. He sets it aside and goes for the Vorpal Blade again, stuffing a cloth napkin into his mouth and biting down on it before he lowers the blade to his arm … and starts to cut into his skin.
My lips part in shock, but it feels like I'm moving in slow motion when I reach out to stop him. The Mad Hatter leans over my shoulder and pulls my hands away.
"Let him finish," he whispers into my ear, and I wait as Rab filets his pocket watch tattoo off and peels his skin away from his arm. My tummy rumbles with nausea, and if I weren't high, I might make a fucking run for it.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask, my voice slurring like I've had way too many bottles of Dad's top-shelf brandy. He used to have a small glass every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night, sitting in the living room with a fire blazing and some hard-boiled crime show on that he'd watch with Mom.
Guess he didn't realize he'd be starring in a real life version of one, huh?
Rab pulls the tattoo off his body as I
shriek like a banshee. When he puts it on my leg, I almost faint.
"Can I get a heal?" he grinds out as he picks up the tattoo machine, and pulls a … a needle and fucking thread from the end of it?! It’s a literal goddamn sewing needle and piece of string.
The Mad Hatter releases my hand and bites his wrist, lifting it up to Rab's mouth. The White Rabbit licks him as he makes eye contact with me, stirring my hormones into a frenzy. I can't stop myself from thinking about what I walked in on, with the Mad Hatter's mouth on the King's neck.
If drinking blood can be sexual then what the hell were they doing in there?
As I sit there and watch, Rab's arm heals over. The tattoo is gone, but his skin is unblemished and whole. I run my fingers over it, and he shudders.
Of course, there's still a bit of his skin sitting on my leg.
Rab takes the needle and thread, and then bites my earlobe, making me shiver.
"Hold still," he breathes in his bones-and-ice voice. He dips the needle into the blood and tea mixture, then threads it into my skin, making me yelp. As I sit there trembling, he 'sews' the edges of his tattoo to my skin. As he goes, not only does he tattoo a lacey design onto my flesh, but he melds his tattoo into my leg, to the point where I can't see where his skin ends and mine begins.
When I poke at the design with a fingernail, it hurts.
It's not Rab's skin anymore, it's mine.
When he finishes and removes the needle, snapping the thread with his teeth, the seconds hand on the clock begins to tick.
"What is this a countdown to?" I ask as I rub my thumbprint over the design. There's a tiny calendar on the open face of the pocket watch, and I can see that we've got quite some time until this one hits its target.
"This is a pivotal point," the White Rabbit says, wiping some of the blood from my leg. It hurts, but it's also riding that fine edge of pleasure and pain. "We probably won't know what it means until it happens. Could be this is the moment you either save Underland … or destroy it." Gently, he pushes me off of his lap and pulls his white ears down to cover his eyes. "Now get the fuck off my lap before I come in my slacks."
Allison and the Torrid Tea Party: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Harem of Hearts Book 2) Page 25