The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(101)

That deep voice of his never failing to elicit a sigh from her, she nodded. “I think I would walk into a nest of snakes for you, just to see you smile like that.”

Walking back to her, bringing his sharp scent of frost with him, he trailed his knuckles along her cheeks, making her knees weak. “But I do, Alice. Anytime I’m with you.”

Pretending to be annoyed but secretly thrilled, she simply twisted her lips and swished her hand out in front of her regally. “Lead on, O maddening one.”

“But we’re here.” The secret smile played about his eyes again.

The door that’d loomed only seconds ago was now standing sentinel before her, tall and dark and imposing.

Narrowing her eyes, she wiped nervous palms down the front of her skirt. “This isn’t going to lead to nowhere this time? Or a tunnel full of squeaking, chirping mice? Because, I don’t honestly think I could take that type of ‘fun’ again.”

He laughed, the sound rich and decadent. “Trust me, Alice, my little Alice. Would I lead you astray?”

His tone was sincere, and though he’d said it with laughter, she knew he was serious.

“No, Hatter. No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then take my hand and let me show you my greatest treasure.”

It took half a second before she was slipping her hand onto his glassy palm. Now the water wasn’t as cold; it was temperate like the shores of Hawaii. The moment she thought that, the breeze turned hibiscus scented and she inhaled deeply, immediately washed with a sense of home.

Smiling, she nodded and turned the bronze-plated antique knob. For a second she expected it to honk at her the way the doors had at Alice in the movies, but it was just a simple knob.

The land, however, that spread out before her the moment she stepped through was far from simple. It was a feat of wonder. Where before there’d been an endless expanse of water, she was now in a tropical oasis. But it was not like any island she’d ever seen.

Colorful hibiscus flowers beckoned her with their lush scent. Bushes and bushes of them grew up around her, almost like a maze of greenery and yellow, orange, pink, and white.

But these flowers didn’t talk back like the ones outside her and Hatter’s home. Releasing his hand, she walked to the bush, wondering if perhaps this was his treasure.

“Hatter, is it the flower garden?”

She’d seen many gardens in her time with him. Some were gardens made of cakes and cookies, the air redolent with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Others were animal topiaries that pranced and waddled and quacked back at them. Apart from the fact that these flowers were as wide as her face, they seemed pretty mundane.

Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder. But her water man was gone. There wasn’t even a trace of wet on the plush, velvety carpet of grass beneath her feet.

Shrugging because he’d show back up soon, she turned back to inspect the flowers, trying to figure out just what made them so special.

That was when she noticed one quivering.

“Curiouser and curiouser...” She giggled at her unintentional homage to the literary character she’d unconsciously emulated her whole mortal life.

Maybe there was a giant hookah-huffing caterpillar waiting behind the bush and that was what was causing the flower to quiver. But when she gently pushed the flower aside, she saw nothing but leaves and branches.

“Hatter? Is this your treasure?” she asked again, knowing he could hear her.

Still no answer.

Then she jumped back when the flower crawled off the bush and shook itself like a dog. Startled, she yelped, covering her mouth as first a few, then hundreds of flowers, began to do the same thing.

And what she’d first assumed to be stamens began to wiggle like little stameny worms. Smiling broadly, she watched as the flowers, which weren’t really flowers at all, began to blossom before her eyes. The petals opened and then split down the center, and that’s when she realized the petals were actually wings. Hundreds of black, beady little eyes blinked in unison, and then the creatures took flight, becoming a towering funnel of brilliant color, sliding into the azure sky on graceful wings.

“This is not my treasure.” Hatter’s deep voice caressed the shell of her ear.

Sighing, she sank into his chest, frowning slightly when she felt his weight give way beneath her. Twirling on her heel, she was amazed anew at his ability to recreate himself.

This time Hatter wasn’t water but a tower of tightly packed flowers. When his mouth opened, it wasn’t lips but rose petals that spoke back to her. His scent overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t help but inhale him deeply. It was masculine and flowery all at once, a very heady and unusual combination.

Trailing her finger down the satiny smoothness of his petaled skin, she shrugged. “Hmm... You are a surprise, dear.”

His rosebud nose quivered as if he was silently laughing before he grasped her hand within his own.

She couldn’t stop tracing the velvety softness of his knuckle as she asked, “Then if this isn’t your treasure, what is?”

“We’re almost there.”

Now that the hibiscus butterflies had flown away, there was nothing but greenery all around. Hatter stuck out like a sore thumb; it was oddly beautiful to her. He was such a strange man, yet she could never imagine her life without him. Nothing would have ever made sense.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said before a penny winked to existence before her eyes.