Unhinged (Splintered, #2)(10)
A steady, deep thrum awakens in my mind, like wings thumping my skull. It’s the return of my netherling side. No one can bring it to the surface like Morpheus. “Let go,” I demand.
Morpheus tightens his grip, defiant. “Has he even taken time to acknowledge the changes in you? To ask why you no longer use bugs and flowers in your mosaics? Or why you’ve traded your fear of heights for an aversion to reflective surfaces?”
I clench my jaw. “He asked. I’m just not sure how to explain that I keep my mirror covered with a blanket because I’m worried I’ll be spied on by a freak with wings.”
Morpheus grins. “Says the girl whose wings are always itching to break free.”
I scowl, hating that he’s right.
“You need a man who knows and understands you, Alyssa. Both sides of you. A partner.” He pulls my necklaces—and me—closer. “One who’s your equal in every way.” The scent of licorice fills my nose; he must’ve been smoking his hookah before I arrived. My body betrays me, remembering what those tobacco-laced kisses taste like.
He releases the necklaces to cup my chin. His gloves are cold, but the allure of his dark, mystical eyes warms me from head to toe. I almost fall into them, almost forget myself and my choices. But I’m stronger than that now.
I jerk free and shove his chest, hard enough to rock him backward. Even though his duster’s hem tangles around his legs, he regains his balance without missing a beat.
Chuckling, he flourishes an arm in a grand gesture and bows. “Game, set, match. Ever, and always, my equal.” His smug smirk taunts me with promises and innuendos.
“This isn’t a game. You could’ve killed Jeb in that flood!” I lunge at him, but he folds a wing between us to fend me off. Slapping the satiny black barrier, I snarl. “You’ve crossed a line. Don’t bother me during the day again.” I start for the doorway. I’d rather face a flooded sewage tunnel than stay here another second.
“We’re not done,” he says from behind me.
“Oh, we’re so done.”
In some secluded, private corner of my soul, I care about Wonderland more than I dare admit aloud. But if I let Morpheus see that … he’ll convince me to stay and fight. The last time I faced Queen Red, she left a fingerprint of terror on my heart. Judging by what’s happening to the land, her powers are even stronger now than they were then. I suppress another shudder. I’m totally unequipped for a battle of this proportion. I’m only half of the netherling she is, and no match for her.
I never will be.
I’m a few steps from the door when one clap of Morpheus’s leather-clad palms stops me in my tracks.
A sinister rustle grows around me, like leaves raking across graves. I turn, but not fast enough. Vines climb my legs, twisting tight. My calf muscles cramp under the pressure. Using my underdeveloped netherling magic, I try to influence the plants. The ivy pulses but refuses to release.
“A shame you’ve neglected your better side for so long,” Morpheus baits me as he steps closer. “If you practiced more often, it would be second nature for you to relax … easier for you to coax your powers into submission.”
I growl. My top half is still free, so I throw a punch at him, nailing his abs. He oofs, but his sneer doesn’t waver. With one nod from him, the daisy that I used for a prop earlier reaches out and clamps my elbows. Her hands, both humanoid and plantlike, lock me tight. When I struggle, she hisses a warning.
Biting back a frustrated yelp, I meet Morpheus’s fathomless black eyes. “I want to go home.”
He fusses with his shirt, smoothing where my fist wrinkled it. “Keep ignoring your responsibilities and you won’t have a home left.”
I shake my head. “How many times do I have to say it? My home is in the human realm, not here.” A half lie. I can’t bear to look again at the destruction all around me. But he doesn’t have to see how torn I am … how torn I’ve been since last year.
“What makes you think I was referring to here?” He leans against a nasturtium stem. The pose shouldn’t be threatening, but his wings rise behind him, black and looming against the storm’s backdrop, and my skin bristles with apprehension. I try to free my elbows. The daisy is too strong. Even through my long sleeves, her frondlike fingers bite into my flesh.
“I demand to see Queens Grenadine and Ivory,” I say.
Morpheus barks a laugh. “You 'demand'? So you’re playing the royal card, aye?”
My chest tightens. “The queens are in charge of the portals to my home, not you.”
“Oh, but therein lies the problem. Parts of Wonderland have already fallen into Red’s clutches, and she intends to reclaim your throne and overthrow Ivory so she might be in charge of both portals. By your absence and apathy, you’re giving the witch free rein. You know what a powerless and forgetful fool your substitute, Grenadine, is.”
Lightning strikes again, coating everything in eerie light.
The mud beneath me starts to soften, and I sink an inch, then two. I’ve triggered one of his black moods. That’s never good. “You’re lying.”
“The truth is in the blood. Is your artwork lying?”
I want to lash out at him for spying on me at school, but it won’t change the fact that he’s right. Even though I can’t decipher the violent scenes in my blood mosaics, I can make out enough to know that something is wrong in this world. And that maybe Queen Red is behind it.