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No matter how I try to distance myself from the Wonderland memories, they’re always present, refusing to leave. Just like a certain someone refuses to leave. My throat constricts at the thought of black wings, bottomless tattooed eyes, and a cockney accent. He already has my nights. I won’t let him take my days, too.
He has no memory of our trip to Wonderland, but he’s noticed the changes in me, including the key I wear around my neck and never take off, and the nodules along my shoulder blades that I attribute to a Liddell family oddity.
He catches me with one arm around my waist and, without a word between us, pulls me in for a kiss.
“I’ve been dying to do that,” he says, voice husky and green gaze penetrating. “Every time I heard your voice on the phone, all I could think about was touching you.”
“You should be able to visit anytime you please. You have a home here, too, after all.”
Sharing that much of your subconscious with someone, you tend to learn things about him. Sometimes you even develop feelings for him, no matter how you try to fight it.
“You need to concentrate on the here and now.”
“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.”
“If you won’t stay and save Wonderland, I shall bring my own brand of chaos to the human realm. Fight for us, or face the consequences.”
“Too little, too late,” he murmurs against my humming skin. “By the time they find your body, I’ll already be there.”
“Yep,” Corbin responds after another sip of Coke. “He registered yesterday. A senior from Cheshire, England.”
Morpheus faces me again, wings spread wide. No one else is in the hall, but my heart pummels my ribs as if we were on exhibition—my secret and his—to the whole world.
He’s like a broken vase—delicately angular features with a thin scar that runs from his left temple to his cheek—damaged yet lovely.
“Alyssa.” The voice is his, unmistakably. Deep and sensual with an edge of malice. “You look so much better than the last time I saw you. Although I must admit, you wore those wet clothes very well.”
“Let me ask for you, then.” His gaze flits to the rust-stained ceiling. “What is a lovely queen like you”—his nose wrinkles—“doing in a smelly place like this?”
“Didn’t you learn anything with Alice? You can’t just take him away from the ones who care about him. There will be ripples, consequences.” Morpheus taps the leather braid at his neck thoughtfully. “I chose carefully. He has no one who loves him. I did him a favor. Possibly even saved his life.”
“One damaged soul in exchange for thousands of netherling lives. It’s a fair trade.”
I understand his loyalty to Wonderland and his friends there. So why can’t he sympathize with my loyalties to this world?
“Aw, bless, Alyssa. Only you could see that side of me.”
“Ah, so you’re busy. Perhaps whilst you find time for Wonderland, I shall entertain myself with the lovely little Jen of the pink hair and sparkling green eyes.” His voice is low and suggestive. “Eyes so like her brother’s.”
“You stay away from the people I love. Do you hear me?”
“You weren’t talking about Finley, were you? I’m the soul you’re willing to sacrifice for Wonderland. Right?” My eyes meet his, and the resolution there validates my fear.
I suppress a sob. Mom’s warning from the flowers and bugs was right. Morpheus is hanging me out to dry.
“Remember what almost happened to your boyfriend the last time he got involved, how close he came to—”
“You are not equipped to fight her yet. But you will be. You’re the best of both worlds, lest you forget. All you need is to have faith in yourself.”
A tulgey’s throat is a two-way portal to another dimension. A place called AnyElsewhere … the looking-glass world.”
I’d saved him. I’d saved us all.
“Use what you have,” he said in the memory. “What we don’t.” Once again, he’s contradicting himself. If netherlings are as great as he says they are, what could humans have that they’re lacking?
Courage, Alyssa. Many changes coming … mad, mad changes. They’ll bring out the queen in you.
“You look incredible in the moonlight.” Jeb’s voice, low and silky, is a balm, soothing away the foreboding echoes of the cricket’s message.
How am I supposed to tell him I’m leaving? How do we say good-bye to moments like these?
This is the perfect opportunity. I’ll tell him it doesn’t matter. That money is the least of what’s standing in the way of our future now. I open my mouth, but Jeb beats me to the punch again. “She’s offering ten thousand more,”
I swallow, fighting to say good-bye, wishing I didn’t have to.
“You need to know, there’s one condition,” he says, leveling his gaze to mine. “Ivy wants me to paint a collection of her. She wants to be my muse.”
“Al, you just need to meet her. You’ll feel better when you see how serious she is about the art. She has some really cool ideas … eccentric even beyond the costumes. She’s an old soul, like us.”
My heart sinks so low I would trip over it if I was walking. That possessive chant resurfaces: mine mine mine.
He doesn’t realize I’m causing the motion, that something is waking inside of me, something I’ve kept hidden for months. Something I don’t want to suppress right now, because the feral anger makes my insecurities seem conquerable, which in turn makes me feel stronger.
I have no response. I’m horrified by how easily my darker side bubbled over—by how much I wanted to overpower Jeb. To control him.
I wish he’d at least pretend this was a hard choice for him, but his expression is hopeful. It’s obvious he wants me to say I’m cool with all of this, whether for the money or for the artistic growth. But it hurts, even though I know it shouldn’t. I’ve always been his inspiration, and this just proves he no longer needs me … at least artistically.
“Hey, don’t you forget that I love you.”
He walks by without a word, snubbing me, yet each time manages to rake his arm across mine or brush our hands. It’s painful in the strangest way.
They’re here, Alyssa. They don’t belong … send them back.
“There’s no need for me to bully. You are coming to Wonderland. Your heart, your soul—they’re already there.
“We’re paying your mum a visit,” he says. “Now drive.”
“Do you honestly think I’m the only one with the ability to slip undetected into a car with its alarm on? Someone else wants those mosaics as much as we do. She’ll do anything to get them.”
“Red,” I murmur, my temples pounding at the thought. “She’s here. She’s in the human realm.”
My mind races, trying to think of something to imagine that could get us out of this. But panic climbs my spine into my skull, blotting out all thought. I tremble and slam my forehead against his shoulder. “Just leave!” The shrill scream rips from my throat and over the whistle.
“Chessie-blud, a little help!” it’s like he’s talking underwater.
I squint to see the raccoon’s tail, now orange and gray, disappear into the rearview mirror’s glass.
Morpheus shoves his leg over mine and gives the car gas. The tires spin, propelling us off the tracks and onto the road on the other side. The train rumbles by, whistle still bellowing, missing us by mere seconds.
