The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(94)

“Everything has beauty,” she said, “but not everyone sees it.” Her stomach hurt; her eyes burned. “I saw you, Hatter.” Her words whispered through the night. “I saw you.”

She walked away.

***

Hatter stood behind the shadow of a tree and watched her walk away, taking the last shreds of his heart with her. She’d lied. Just like the others. Told him she loved him, but she hadn’t. Because Wonderland would have said yes. She’d been perfect. So perfect, his tiny Alice with her piercing eyes and wicked mouth. He trembled, remembering her touch, her tongue.

“I saw you too, Alice.” His words carried like a whisper on the breeze. Wonderland shuddered, the wind sang with a choir of a thousand bells, and the ground swayed.

Hatter gripped the tree and horror blanketed his mind. Wonderland said yes, not because of her words, but because of his.





Chapter 12




Alice was gone and his heart bled crimson. Hatter grabbed his temples. She’d not lied when she’d said she loved him. Wonderland accepted her, wanted her. And she’d left them both.

Because of him. He’d not told her the truth, why he couldn’t go with her. Why he could never leave. She’d thought he’d rejected her. He should have told her the truth.

“Damn me.” He pounded his fist on his chair. The sky outside the window rolled with thunder; black clouds bloated with rain drenched the lands. She’d left, and it was all his fault.

Frogs dropped from the sky by the thousands, their dying croaks lingering in his ear like a macabre lullaby.

All his fault.

Dueling rams knocked horns, their strikes raging with the sound of thunder. His house shook, but Hatter wouldn’t move. He’d stay and watch as Wonderland ripped herself apart.

He swallowed the bile in his throat.

He should never have kissed her. Touched those soft pink lips, tasted the dew between her thighs. Heat spiraled down his legs, made him weak in the knees and stirred his blood. Gods, she’d smelled so good.

Like salt and caramel. His mouth watered, wishing he could taste her again, sink into the mindless oblivion of her beauty.

He was the Mad Hatter; he should have known he could never have a happy ending. He’d never allow it.

“Insane. Stupid. Insane,” he muttered. “And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, and the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor / Shall be lifted—nevermore...”

“Hatter.” A golden ball of light materialized before him, the humming flit of wings becoming an irritating buzz. He swatted at Danika.

“Damn you,” he snarled, eyeing the fairy. “Why did you bring her?”

Her blue eyes grew wide and sparkled with tears. “Oh, Hatter.” She grabbed her chest. “What can I do? I cannot bring another Alice; she’s been found and Wonderland...”

Hatter pounded his fist. Blackbirds dropped like cannon shot against his roof, landing in front of his window with unblinking eyes. “I don’t want another! I want her. I want my Alice. My AlicemyAlicemyAlice.”

He grabbed his head; it hurt. It hurt to think of her; he closed his eyes and she was there, but when he opened them she was gone. Gone, gone, gone, and he was lost.

Come to me, my Hatter. The words tore through his skull. He dropped to his knees, heart thundering. “Alice!” he screamed. Come to me, my love. Come to me, tometometome...

“Alice!” Hatter cried. He heard her—she called to him. Wanted him. Needed him, just like before. But there was only blackness, no white clouds, just blackness and beeping, and his heart tore into a thousand fragments of fear because he tasted her sickness; the bitter nip of cancer spread inside and through his head. “Alice?” he screamed again, but the faint voice did not return.

“I cannot go to her. I cannot find her. Lost to me. Should have told her. Should have said why... She’ll never know...” He rocked, grabbing his chest and moaning aloud. Why had he sent her away? Stupid Hatter. Stupid. A dark void swirled in his vision; thoughts crowded his brain, sucking him down into a bog of nonsense. He couldn’t go to her. Couldn’t find her.

Danika shook him. “Look at me, Hatter. Tell her what?”

He shook his head. Thoughts scattering, rolling, mucking him up. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he squeezed the last lucid memory from his mind. “Love her. Alice is dying. My Alice. My Alice. Get her, Danika. Please...”

Then the voices crowded him, a million talk-talking sounds, and he stopped fighting. Too hard to remember, too easy to forget.

“Prophet! said I, ‘thing of evil!’—prophet still, if bird or devil!— / Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore...” Hatter never tore his eyes from the storm; his nails bled from scratching at the wood of his armrest as the madness of his mind consumed him.





Chapter 13




All Alice wanted was her room and her bed. She wanted to lie down and never move, never have to remember or think about the man who’d stolen her heart. Again. She almost crawled up the last flight of stairs, shaking the knob with weary hands. It was locked.