Alice stared at him. “If you’re so confident in that, then kill me. I’ll come back.” She laughed and raised her arms, waving vaguely at their surroundings. “None of this is real, right? It’s only a dream. I can’t die here.”
Shadow frowned. The pit of dread in his gut deepened, threatening to swallow him up from within. “I would never hurt you, Alice. But…that’s the way it works here. You die and you come back. That’s reality. That’s the truth.”
She lowered her arms and placed her palms upon his chest. “Then there’s nothing to fear, right? You can make it quick.”
His throat constricted, and his breath was suddenly ragged. “What are you doing? Why…why are you saying these things? You’re being…”
Crazy?
But is she, really?
What if I could’ve lost her back there? What if I had lost her forever?
It couldn’t be right. The rules didn’t just change like that. Reality couldn’t just suddenly be different, could it? He could kill her, and she would come back.
But it was much more than the notion of doing her harm—which was nauseating by itself—that kept him from acting. The mere thought of there being any chance, no matter now infinitesimal, of her not coming back was too much to bear.
The Hatter is no more.
That couldn’t be true. He couldn’t accept that the Hatter was dead for good, because that would mean Alice was more vulnerable than ever.
Alice slid off him, lay on her side next to him, facing away, and curled into herself. “I’ve seen a dead person before I ever came here, but I’ve never seen someone killed. There was so much blood, so much…” She shuddered. “He didn’t deserve that. Maybe he will come back. If he does, I hope he doesn’t remember that…that awful death.”
Shadow rolled toward her onto his side and stared at her hair, uncertain of what to do. He didn’t know what she was going through, didn’t understand what she was feeling; violence had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and such sights had never affected him much, even in the beginning. He’d always been…detached from it all. But he didn’t like some of the things she’d said. He didn’t like her tone—didn’t like her sounding so sorrowful and troubled.
He reached out and ran his clawed fingers through her hair, gently combing out the snarls and tangles and removing bits of grass, leaves, and twigs. She had such pretty hair. Golden in the sunlight, and pale silver by moonlight—and it was that pale silver now that made him realize night had fallen. They had a little time still; full dark hadn’t yet set in.
“We should try to find a more comfortable spot to sleep,” he said softly. “Before it’s too dark to see anything.”
“Okay,” she replied.
He slowly pushed himself to his feet. He’d dropped the gun sometime after taking hold of Alice, but he wasn’t concerned about that; he had other, more reliable means of defending her. It was only when he reached up to adjust his hat that he paused—his hand found only empty air over his head.
Shadow spun in place, searching the ground for sign of the hat and finding nothing. When had it fallen off? Where was it? For a few seconds, his legs itched with the urge to climb up the hill and retrace the path of their fall. His heart pounded, and panic tightened his chest.
Why am I getting so worked up over a stolen hat?
The answer came to him immediately, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it—some part of Shadow, deep inside, said the missing hat was a confirmation of what Alice had told him. Death was permanent, and the Hatter was gone.
If anything happened to her, she would be gone, too.
Don’t need it. Just need her. Just need to keep her safe.
Shadow turned to look at Alice. She had stood up while he’d searched for the hat, and was now a few steps in front of him, looking out across the land with her arms folded in front of her chest. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes slightly; it was difficult to see, but she was trembling.
He shrugged off his jacket and shook off the leaves and twigs clinging to it before stepping behind her and settling the garment over her shoulders.
She placed one hand over his before he could pull away, turned her head, and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
Her smile was so genuine, so grateful, so tired, that it struck his heart directly, making his chest ache.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I only wanted you to have some fun with me. Not…all this.”
She tilted her head, her smile fading. “It’s not your fault.” She turned toward him fully and lightly ran her fingers over his vest. “You’ve saved me—more than once. And despite them, despite all this, I enjoy my time with you. You make me laugh.”
He smiled; it wasn’t his usual grin, not nearly as large, but it felt good. “At least someone laughs. Everyone else gets so angry.”
She grinned. “They don’t know you like I do.”
Shadow tilted his head and couldn’t help running his eyes over her body. Even though her pale skin was smudged with dirt and blood, she was beautiful. “I get the sense I don’t know me like you do, either.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” She flattened her palm over his heart. “But you’re still there.”
He furrowed his brow. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but her words somehow felt…right.
“Come along, dearest,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her against his side. His tail coiled around her hips. “Let’s find a place where we can rest and get to know each other even better.”
She ducked her head, but not before he caught sight of her shy little smile and darkening cheeks.
They walked together, beneath the boughs of towering trees and the petals of huge flowers that glowed in the moonlight. Shadow had no destination in mind; he didn’t know where they were and didn’t particularly care. All that mattered was that they seemed to be far away from the king’s soldiers.
If death is permanent, I hope it took him.
But something else Jor’calla had said drifted up from his memory to quash his hopes.
He is deathless in Wonderland! End him beyond, only beyond!
Shadow knew, somehow, that those words were true—even if permanent death had come to this world. It made no difference that everyone else would simply cease to be when they died; the king would come back. He would always come back.
The night seemed to hold its breath, as it was sometimes wont to do; the moon didn’t move, the darkness didn’t deepen, and even the usual rustling of leaves and night songs of insects seemed muted. It was impossible to tell how long or far Shadow and Alice walked—not that he often paid attention to such things to begin with. Time worked however it pleased, wherever it pleased, and who was Shadow to question it?
“Are there animals and birds here?” Alice asked, her voice breaking the silence.
“There must be, mustn’t there?”
“I’ve heard them, but I haven’t seen any.”
Shadow shrugged. “Neither have I. I supposed they simply don’t want to be seen.”
“Are they like you, then?”
He inadvertently slowed his pace as he contemplated her question, which was more difficult to answer than he might’ve imagined. The train of thought it sparked led him to a question of his own well before he could provide a satisfactory answer to hers. “What do you see when you look at me, Alice?”
Alice stopped, and Shadow did the same. She moved to stand in front of him and gazed up at his face. Raising her hand, she brushed her fingers along one of his ears before tracing them slowly over his other features. “I see a face. I see you. Not a shadow, not a ghost, just you.”
Warmth blossomed in his chest. “No one else sees me. No one but you.” He knew his words were layered with meaning, knew she might not be able to decipher all that meaning, but it was the truth. For the first time in his existence, he had a companion, a friend, and he longed for her to become more.
She returned to his side,
and they resumed their journey.
When they finally reached one of the many purple-cobblestone paths—which, like the flowers, seemed to glow with its own soft light—that wound aimlessly through the forest, Shadow stepped onto it without hesitation.
It seemed they’d followed the path for only a few paces when they rounded a bend to find a house—a white, two-story structure with four dark windows on its front. A low white fence surrounded the little patch of land it was nestled upon, butting up against the edge of the cobblestones.
“This looks like a good place to rest for the night,” Shadow said, leading Alice toward the waist-high gate.
“Whose house is this?” she asked.
Shadow bent forward and opened the gate. “Miraxis’s.”
Alice had taken one step toward the open gate before halting, her eyes rounded. “What?”
He paused beside her, arching a brow. “It’s Miraxis’s house. I would say he won’t mind if we see ourselves in, but it really doesn’t matter. He usually stays at the Hatter’s.”
“He…won’t come back and find us here, will he? He won’t…take me back there?”
Shadow tightened his hold on her. “No one is going to take you anywhere, unless that someone is me taking you somewhere.”
No one would touch his Alice ever again.
The tension drained from her, and a relieved gleam sparked in her eyes. She nodded. “Okay.”
Her trust in him only strengthened the warmth in Shadow’s chest. When he continued forward, Alice walked with him, no longer hesitant.
The front door was locked, but locks had always seemed to have a difficult time denying Shadow; it clicked open after he rattled the handle a bit, and he preceded Alice inside, holding the door open for her. Once she was in the foyer, he closed the door behind her.
Some fumbling in the dark resulted in Alice locating a light switch. She flipped it on, bathing the room in bright, pure light.
Miraxis’s home was pristine; the walls were unblemished white, the floor tiles polished to a shine, the rug lush and fluffy and spotless. Shadow had the sense that everything here had its place, even more so than in the Hatter’s quarters. He’d never been certain if it was a result of Miraxis’s tendencies, or because of the praxian’s long association with the Hatter.
Alice giggled, and Shadow turned to look at her. She was staring down at her feet, wiggling her toes on the tile. Muddy footprints led from her and Shadow’s current positions to the front door.
“I don’t think he’s going to be happy when he gets back,” she said.
Shadow grinned.
Miraxis had been the one to bring Alice to the Hatter, and had led countless others to the Hatter before her, sometimes at the king’s command, preying upon the confusion and vulnerability of newcomers. He seemed particularly deserving of the stress this mess would undoubtedly cause him.
“Shall we see where else we can make a mess?” he asked.
She chuckled and nodded eagerly.
Shadow led Alice upstairs, using a finger to tip the precisely spaced pictures hanging on the walls to odd, clashing angles as he passed them. The stairs led directly into Miraxis’s bedroom. The bed was neatly made, with tight, squared corners and the throw pillows arranged with perfect symmetry.
“Is that a shower?” Alice asked excitedly. She broke away from Shadow’s side and hurried over to the open bathroom door. She moved past the threshold and stopped just within the room.
Shadow followed, stopping at the doorway to watch as she looked down at herself.
Alice pinched the sides of her skirt and pulled them outward; the fabric was dirty and stained. “How many days… How long… I think it’s only been a couple days since I came here, but it feels like forever.”
“Days don’t mean much here,” Shadow said. “Time doesn’t mean much.”
She turned toward him with a thoughtful look on her face. “Sometimes you say things, like that, that make it sound like you know there is another place outside this one.”
End him beyond, only beyond!
Shadow squeezed his eyes closed as an unfamiliar, blurred image danced in his mind’s eye; it was too hazy for him to identify, but it seemed like a place—a place he couldn’t possibly have been to, a place that couldn’t have been real. During that moment, it felt as though his head would split in two, as though his skull was being wrenched in opposing directions.
His jaw muscles ticked, but he managed a normal tone when he said, “If I know there’s another place beyond, I’m not aware of that knowledge.”
When he opened his eyes again, Alice was staring at him, her head tilted at an endearing angle that left some of her golden hair hanging across her cheek. Rather than push the subject, she smiled, turned her back to him, and stepped farther into the bathroom. She shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the clothes rack beside the counter.
“Oh, I can’t wait to get all this mud off me.” Alice glanced at him over her shoulder, and her smile grew. “Could you help me unlace this dress, Shadow?”
Whatever doubts Shadow might’ve had about his reality were suddenly forgotten; they were wholly unimportant compared to the opportunity currently presented to him. With a few long strides, he entered the bathroom and eliminated the distance separating him from Alice. “I would be delighted to assist.”
Gathering her hair, she pulled it in front of her shoulder and faced forward.
Shadow ran his tongue over his lips as he stared at the back of her elegant neck. His gaze dipped along her spine, which was visible through the ribbon lacings securing her dress. The kisses they’d shared had not been taste enough, not by any means. He wanted to explore every inch of her skin with his mouth. He forced his hands into motion, taking the ends of the silk ribbon bow positioned just above the flare of her hips and the tantalizing curve of her ass, and untied it with oddly clumsy fingers.
Once the bow was undone, he hooked his fingers beneath the lacings. Their backs brushed over her soft skin as he worked his hands up, loosening the laces a little at a time.
Alice shivered, and her breath quickened.
The dress parted, and the top sagged when he pulled the ribbon free of the uppermost loops, giving him a clear view of her bare back. He couldn’t stop himself from lightly trailing a finger down her spine.
Her breath hitched, and she tensed. “Shadow…”
He caught a hint of her arousal on the air as he slid his finger beneath the lowest open portion of the dress to brush his claw along the cleft of her ass. “Alice…”
A tremor ran through her. Suddenly, she stepped away, turned, and pressed a hand against his chest. Without a word—without even making eye contact—she pushed him out of the room and closed the door in his face.
Shadow’s tail twitched, and he blinked. He’d been too caught up in his own excitement to realize what she was doing before it was too late. Curling one hand into a fist, he settled it lightly on the door and leaned his forehead against it while dropping his other hand to his groin. His cock ached; he couldn’t recall ever reacting this way to a female. He couldn’t recall ever being in discomfort—especially this much discomfort—for wanting something so badly.
Against his will, his fist opened, and his claws scratched the wood. “Alice? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she said, her voice slightly muffled by the door. “I’ll be out soon. Promise.”
Suppressing a groan, Shadow squeezed his throbbing cock. Her scent lingered on the air and in his nostrils; how easy it would be to open the door, to go through it, and have her. She was on the cusp of giving in to her desire. She was so close. It would only take a little push for her to cross that line and fall into his arms.
Shadow glanced down at himself, noting the dried mud, muck, and grass clinging to his clothing and matted on his short fur. He had some cleaning up of his own to do. She could have this bit of time to herself; when he returned, she would be his.
He grinned. “Take your time, sw
eet Alice. When you get out, I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 12
Alice stared across the bathroom with wide eyes. Her back was pressed against the door, and her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. She could almost feel Shadow on the other side of the door. The warmth left by his fingers brushing over her back lingered, and, for a moment, she wished he’d come through that door to pursue her, to touch her again, to follow his hands with his lips and tongue…
So why had she just run from him?
Because I’m confused and scared.
She was scared of his intensity, scared of what he made her feel, scared of what would become of them, just…scared.
But God, I want him.
It would have been so easy to have just turned around and embraced him, kissed him, welcomed him into her body.
He’s an alien! He has fur, claws, a tail, and—
Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t care about any of that. Interspecies relationships were common all over the place, and though she’d never been in one, she found his differences even more intriguing.
He’s utterly insane!
Even that didn’t matter. She knew that, beneath the surface, he was a broken man.
He’s dangerous, unpredictable.
She still wanted him. Her body trembled with need, and her thighs were slick with desire. His slightest touch had aroused her so swiftly.
He’d never hurt me.
Why was she fighting this? Why was she resisting? What did it matter that she didn’t know him? This place, this simulation, wasn’t real. Anything she did in here, with him, wouldn’t matter in reality. Why deny herself? No one would know. She could take what she wanted, submit to him, enjoy herself.
Play the game.
Could she?
And even if it was real…
I’d want him anyway.
Taking in a deep breath, she turned and pressed her ear against the door. No sounds came from the other side.
She slowly eased away from the door and approached the counter. She looked in the mirror; the reflection that greeted her made her cringe. There were dark smudges under her eyes, remnants of the makeup Shadow had wiped away, and her skin was too pale. Her hair was a mess, tangled and matted, full of leaves and grass, she was smeared with dirt, and there was dried blue blood on her chin and cheeks.
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