Follow the White Rabbit (Beautiful Madness #1)(2)
Stop it.
I was still feeling slightly paranoid when a massive lake came into view and managed to finally pull my attention away from what I was by then calling ‘the ghost girl of Clarkson.’ It looked almost too perfect to be real, probably man made. As the car pulled closer, my nerves calmed further. I couldn’t help but appreciate the way the large still surface reflected the moon like a luminescent painting.
The car jolted slightly when the road turned from pavement to wood slats. As my jaw snapped together and my fingers clenched the steering wheel, the girl returned. No, not returned—appeared. One moment there was nothing, and the next she was standing in the middle of the bridge while I willed my heart to keep beating. The half-second it took me to remember to put my foot on my brake was all it took to run out of time. She was too close. There was no way I could stop the car from hitting her if it kept moving forward.
Swearing, I jerked the steering wheel to the right, remembering too late that the car and I were currently on a bridge and at least twenty feet over water.
Shit.
There wasn’t far to go before I smashed through the guardrail. As the car tilted forward, beginning its descent, my head smacked against the horn, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a warning blast off into the night.
The obnoxious sound from the horn continued to echo in my ears as I saw the car’s reflection getting larger and larger in the glassy surface of the lake. There was absolutely nothing I could do to alter my course into the water. The already paralyzing fear was amplified by complete helplessness as a scream clawed its way up my throat in the instant before I hit the water. My lungs contracted, but the scream never came. There was nothing to do but watch as the still image of the lake was shattered into a million chaotic pieces.
Three girls hold cards; each plays her game.
As Wonderland’s wind whispers a name.
Black is white, and white is red.
All unravels as you tug the thread.
The stakes are high, don’t interfere.
No turning back - Alice is near.
CHAPTER ONE
BEGIN AT THE BEGINNING
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Rose bunched the bulk of her skirt into her hand as she slid her legs over one of the plush armrests that framed her throne. Letting it drop over the side, she adjusted her weight until it was comfortably strewn over the usually loathsome seat.
A persistent tingling sensation continued its repetitive drumming at the back of her mind, but she pushed it out one last time. She wanted a single minute just to bask in what she’d accomplished before the vision that had been threatening to overwhelm her for days found a crack in her defenses. It could wait one more minute. It would have to.
Rose was not a petite girl, and even spread out on the luxuriously over-sized furniture she still felt unnaturally tall. Her willowy figure seemed awkward and disproportionate when compared to the elegant setting around her, but perhaps that was something she could change after she settled in. This was to be her home after all.
The hall she sat in was as elegant as it was sterile. The tiles of white marble streaked with silver had been Anora’s choice—a way to make her mark on the palace that had housed generations of royalty. Rose had checked and double checked that no one else was inside the marble chamber before locking the door behind her. This wasn’t the best position to be caught in, especially as it was only her second day as the Queen of House White. She knew what people would say if she was caught.
“Lady Anora would never have behaved in such an uncouth manner. Lady Anora knew how to show respect to her position”.
Well, Rose knew some of Anora’s secrets and could say with certainty that sitting in a less-than-dignified position was tame compared to what that woman got up to on a regular basis.
Truly alone for the first time since the brief moment she’d had in her dressing room before her coronation, Rose was finally able to revel in her success—and it really was a success. A girl like her should never have been crowned—not in the House of White, and maybe not anywhere in Wonderland. At least if she’d been playing by the rules. Like Anora before her, Rose was now the White Queen, and all Queens were entitled to their little secrets.
As if on cue, the tingling sensation broke down the barriers of Rose’s mind with one last offensive push, sending a wave of anticipation sparking through her veins. A moment later her head tilted back to welcome the incoming vision, despite it being decidedly unwelcome.
Blackness gave way to the same images that had first prompted Rose to take a chance and confront Anora—Wonderland changed before her eyes. Castles became stark, rectangular buildings with countless windows; lanterns were replaced by hideous glass bulbs, removing the warmth of firelight from every room; Neverwood, the strange and wonderful forest, lay flattened, covered in grass that stood only a half-inch high. It was an abomination, and Rose had seen it all before.
She’d believed that her ascension to the throne would ensure that this would never come to be. And yet the scene played out before her again, unchanged. Had she only managed to delay the inevitable? In the past her visions always showed the future as it was should things remain the same. Sometimes Rose was content to let events play out and enjoyed knowing more about the people around her than they suspected. Other times, like when she’d learned of Anora’s late-night liaisons, the visions spurred Rose to action. Those actions had led to Rose sitting in the surprisingly uncomfortable seat where she was now.