The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(65)

Air surged past Alice in a dizzying rush. She threw her hands over her face, stomach tickling as she waited for impact.

But as the seconds ticked by, she cracked open one eye. She should have hit pavement and been a memory by now.

“Oh, ah...” Words failed her. She’d expected to see blacktop, looming like a nightmare. Instead... there was dirt. Everywhere. She was in a tunnel of it. Tree roots, gnarled and twisted, reached out toward her like writhing fingers in a haunted house.

And then the dirt was gone, and suddenly there was nothing but clocks. Masses of them. Thousands. Zooming past in a Dali-esque blur.

After a few minutes, the tickling in her belly stopped, but still she fell. She huffed, wondering if this hell would ever end. Almost the moment she thought it, she was there. Wherever there was. She slammed her head and shoulders into something hard and cold, groaning at the webbing of pain that exploded in her body upon impact. It knocked her dizzy for a second, and when she opened her eyes, her vision blurred. The scent of crushed grass and sweet-smelling flowers enveloped her in its heady embrace.

“The Alice girl is here.”

“Alice? Yet again?”

“Little girl. Little girl.”

“No, she is a woman, natty old fool. Look at those boobs.”

The voices were constant, random, and singsong. She shook her head and groaned. “My head.”

“She’s busted her head. What, what.”

“Ohhhh,” crooned a teeny voice, “the Hatter won’t like that.”

She froze at the sound of that name. Where the hell was she? She rubbed her eyes. It took a moment, but when she could finally make out what was before her, she couldn’t believe it. She grabbed her head. Flowers, too many different varieties to count, were looking at her.

Looking at her!

She yelped.

They blinked.

“She’s as loud as the rest. Truly, dearie, do ye not see ’tis night?” A fluted yellow flower honked at her.

She had to get home. Maybe she was home? Maybe this was all a dream. A bad, weird dream.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

The voice was hot and gravelly, rolling over her body like a lover’s touch. She followed the voice and her thighs tingled.

It was him. Alice swallowed. She’d know the face anywhere. She’d seen it before. A long, long time ago.

She smiled, so many words on her tongue, none of them able to make it past numb lips.

It was hard to gauge his height. He was sitting on a chair, a cup of tea in his hand, staring at her with a hard black glare. There was violence and madness burning in that gaze. And something else. Something that made her burn, made her nipples tighten into hard, almost painful buds.

Last time she’d seen him, he hadn’t looked so foreboding or so sexy. She licked her lips.

Silvery moonlight made his hair glint with shades of the darkest chocolate. The pressure of his gaze felt like a hot brand.

Her pulse stuttered. Dreams shouldn’t make her so hot. Needy.

It hadn’t before. Then again, she’d only been thirteen.

“You.”

She bristled, not because of what he said but how he’d said it. A depth of meaning had been conveyed in that one word. Anger, disdain, even hate. Alice held her chin up, but her nails left crescent marks on her palm.

His nose curled. “Bloody damn fairy,” he spat.

Alice was so startled she couldn’t even speak. Why the hell was he so angry? What had she done? And who was this fairy? She rubbed the back of her head. Was she dead? Maybe this was hell?

With his dark hair and sharp brows, Hatter looked more like the devil than the white knight of her youth. The man she’d idolized, the very one she’d credited with saving her life. She could still see it in her mind’s eyes, her body lying weak and pale in the hospital bed, calling out for an imaginary savior. She’d never been more surprised than when he’d answered her...

But clearly that memory belonged only to her. He didn’t seem to remember her at all.

His lips thinned and a spark of something hot flashed through his eyes when he set his cup down. On freaking air! It literally hung, suspended as if by strings.

She’d dreamed of Wonderland many times, but never like this. Never with so much detail. She could smell the wind, and colors she’d never seen in her life dotted the landscape. Vivid didn’t even begin to describe this.

“Follow me.”

Was he serious? “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Alice bit the inside her cheek. An owl hooted and she shivered.

“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “Then stay.”

He got up and she gulped. Though he stood a distance from her still, she knew he towered over her by a good foot. At five foot two, there wasn’t much that didn’t. He turned to go and she clenched her teeth.

A thwamping sound rang through the sudden stillness of the field, and her pulse thumped. She jerked, glancing over her shoulder. A chilling echo of laughter flitted through the dark silhouette of trees.

Just a dream. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Thwamp.

“You’re not really going to just leave me here, are you?” she yelled at his retreating figure.

He stopped, and even though it was dark, there was enough moonlight to the see the heated glare on his face. “Follow or stay.”