Mad as a Hatter (Sons of Wonderland Book 1)

by Kendra Moreno

  “You haven’t been spying on me while I’m in other places, have you?”

  His lips curl up in a half smile.

  “Relax. I haven’t been watching whatever it is you and the Hatter have been up to.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief before crossing my arms over my chest.

  “What do you want, Cheshire?”

  “I have a question for you.”

  When he doesn’t elaborate, I raise my eyebrow.

  “Well?”

  His face grows serious. I start thinking he isn’t going to ask when he finally straightens and meets my eyes.

  “The Hatter obviously cares for you. Do you feel the same for him?”

  “Of course, I care about the Hatter. Why do you ask?”

  “Is it because you know you’re destined to be? Is it because of the prophecy that you care about him?”

  It dawns on me. Cheshire is fishing, and he’s worried. Absolem had said Cheshire is the third Son of Wonderland, though I suspected as much before he confirmed it. Cheshire is destined to find a mate that completes the triad, the third woman who will help me and another to bring down the Red Queen.

  I notice Cheshire is fidgeting, his tail swishing back and forth, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh. He’s trying his hardest to appear cool and indifferent, but I’m starting to see a little beneath his mask. I can choose not to answer his question. It’s personal, after all. But when I open my mouth, I find the truth tumbles out without hesitation.

  “I’ll admit there was a draw there at the beginning. It’s kind of like this feeling in your chest, tugging at you even though you’re wary, or scared. I was curious about it, sure.” I walk across the room and stand in front of him. I look into his eyes, the pupils moving between a circle and a slit, like he can’t decide which look to assume. “But, that didn’t force me to love the Hatter. The Hatter captured my heart all on his own. No prophecy did that.”

  “You speak of love,” he whispers in awe. His tail finally stops moving as he stares back at me. “How can you know that it isn’t some greater force messing with your emotions?”

  “You can’t force people to love. If that was the case, when I first saw the Hatter, I wouldn’t have felt fear, or worry, or confusion. There was no instant love. I can tell you the exact moment that it happened, and it wasn’t at first sight.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No. It was at the March Hare’s house, after I drank the Reali-Tea, minutes before the Bandersnatch howled outside. March was being March.” I chuckle at the image of him rolling on the floor laughing. “I had just seen the terrible history of the Red Queen, I was covered in a cold sweat, and I was crying. And you know what happened?”

  “What?”

  “The Hatter told me I’m his light inside the Madness. That I’m the light that brings him home.” I smile, remembering the words. “I fell in love right there. Those words sealed my fate. That was the moment I embraced it.” Cheshire looks up at the ceiling for a moment. I take his hand, just holding on to give him comfort. The touch brings his eyes back to me, his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. It gives his face an innocent look, one that he would never normally wear. “I understand if the idea of a destined mate scares you, Cheshire. But this is the way I see it: The prophecy knows which two people are compatible, sure. But it’s up to you whether the love grows from that or not. You decide whether you want to embrace that fate. No one else does.”

  “No woman could ever look at me the way you look at Hatter, Clara.” His voice is sad, accepting, and I hear the brokenness inside them. “Besides,” he shrugs, “I don’t believe in all that love shit.”

  That quickly, he dismisses everything I had said, the hope in his eyes blinking away. I smile, giving his hand a light squeeze. His eyes change to those of a cat as he looks at me. It doesn’t unnerve me anymore. He’s trying to erect his mask of indifference back into place, but it’s too late. I can already see past it.

  “You will,” I assure him. “When you see her.”

  He doesn’t respond to the comment, but he begins to fade away. His hand slips from mine as his body disappears. His face is the last to go.

  “I’ll see you at tea, Clara Bee,” his voice echoes before his glowing blue eyes disappear completely.

  There is another outfit laid out on my bed, similar to the first. Leather pants, yet again in black, are sitting on top. The top is black this time, a pretty golden damask pattern on it, and much lower cut than the high neck of the first jacket. It’ll show some cleavage and make it less stuffy. It’s sleeveless, stopping at the tops of my shoulders. The back of the jacket is less formal than the first one. It only goes down to my knees, and it looks more like long coat tails than the back half of a skirt. There’s a different pair of combat boots to complement the outfit, a weathered gold color. I put the ensemble on before tying my hair up in a messy bun. I strap all the weapons back onto my body, stumbling over which way to fasten the buckles, and head downstairs for the ballroom. Again, it’s easier to maneuver through the house. I have no trouble finding my way.

  When I reach the ballroom, it’s Dormouse who opens the heavy door for me. I can’t meet his eyes, my face turning a nice shade of red, but I shouldn’t have worried. He doesn’t meet mine either, ever the face of professionalism. As I step through the doors, the guests of the tea party stop talking, their eyes all focusing on me. I pause.

  I jump when Dormouse speaks behind me, shouting at Cheshire who is already sitting down towards the head of the table, close to the Hatter.

  “Get your feet off the table, you uncultured Grimalkin,” Dormouse sneers. It’s the most emotion I’ve ever heard come from him, his offense at bad manners strong.

  Cheshire grins at him, but he doesn’t remove his boots where they sit propped up on the table top. Dormouse scoffs and slams the door closed behind him as he leaves.

  Tweedledee and Tweedledum are sitting side by side about midway down the table. Their heads are tilted together as they study the guests. There’s equal parts hunger and curiosity on their faces. I make a mental note to ask Hatter if we should be worried about that or not. I hate to think I have to tell them every time that the guests are friends. Maybe I’ll make a sign and hang it on the wall. Has the Hatter been feeding them? I think hard and realize I don’t remember them ever eating. Do they eat food, or, something more horrifying? It goes into the “Ask Hatter” file in my brain.

  White sits beside Cheshire, his face clouded with anger. He keeps checking his watch over and over again. When he looks up at my entrance, he throws his hands in the air, and I swear I hear the word “finally”. His ears twitch in agitation, his knuckles rapping against the table top.

  There are other guests as well, those of the deceased. There’s more than I have ever seen at once. I count fourteen this time. Fourteen more creatures and people have died by the Queen’s hand. She’s increasing the amount, probably because we had escaped her. She must be so angry that we got away, that the Caterpillar helped us.

  Hatter sits in his normal chair, his eyes sparkling when they watch me walk into the ballroom. My face reddens as I make my way down the table to my chair, especially when I think about the things we had done on this very spot only last night. Hatter smiles wickedly, like he knows exactly why I’m turning red. I get flashes of skin, visions of the last time we used the table.

  “There’s less china than there usually is,” Cheshire comments, studying the table. “What happened to the sugar bowl? I like sugar in my tea.”

  I can’t help it. A small chuckle slips out, my face reddening even more. I’m sure I look like a tomato. Cheshire’s eyes catch on mine, and his eyebrows go up. He leans back away from the table, removing his feet and eying it suspiciously, like he’s checking for evidence.

  “Fitting for the Hatter,” he mumbles. Thankfully, no one else seems to understand our conversation. I can’t bear that conversation.

  I’m about to take my seat when the Hatter slips his arm
around my waist and pulls me into his lap, sprawling me in an awkward position. I laugh and adjust myself to one side, making it easier for both of us to see the table and our guests. I wrap one arm behind his neck, my fingers playing with the chain there.

  “You look maddeningly ravishing in the clothes I picked for you,” he whispers in my ear, his hands wrapping around my stomach and rubbing, teasing.

  “Everyone is watching,” I hiss.

  “Let them watch.”

  My face heats even more, but I don’t fight him, too giddy. Besides, I don’t actually want him to stop. White is watching us closely, curiosity on his face. Cheshire is purposely ignoring us.

  “So, does anyone have a plan?” I venture, the hum in the room dying as they all focus on me again. No one answers. “To defeat the Knave,” I clarify. Maybe they don’t understand what I’m asking.

  “You could always just lop off his head,” Cheshire supplies, studying his claws. “Simple enough really.”

  “I’d like to avoid that if possible. The Knave is just as much a victim as we are. If there is a way to save him, I’d prefer to do that.” I look around at the silent guests. Tweedledum and Tweedledee watch me, both eerily still.

  “Some people might be too far gone to be saved,” the Hatter speaks, his voice loud enough, so the room hears. I turn to look at him, meeting his eyes. There’s sadness there.

  “Do you really believe that?” I ask. “Do you believe there are those of you who can’t be saved?”

  “Not too long ago,” White interrupts, “you didn’t think you could be saved, Hatter.”

  Hatter tilts his head at White in acknowledgment before looking at me again.

  “So, we need a plan that involves saving the prince,” Hatter agrees. “No pressure.”

  “Why do we need to eliminate the prince?” someone down the table asks, a woman with horns. “Why not just go for the Red Queen? Take out the Queen, and everything else is a moot point.”

  “The Knave is the Red Queen’s general. He must be removed so that she is weakened,” the Hatter replies. “The prophecy speaks of the triad. Clara is only the first. The Caterpillar says there is only one possible future where we succeed. This is that future.”

  When no one else speaks, I turn to the Tweedles.

  “Is there a way to reverse what the Red Queen has done to the Prince?” I word my question carefully, specifying all the people in question. Less chance of them leading me astray that way.

  As part of our deal, they’re supposed to supply council and advice. No doubt they repeat the deal in their heads before deciding to answer. They do nothing without consulting each other first. They also do nothing without getting something in return.

  “There are ways,” Dee says.

  “It might work if it did,” Dum adds.

  “It might fail if it doesn’t,” Dee finishes.

  I see a shudder run through a few of the guests. It seems I’m not the only one creeped out by the twins.

  “It’ll be risky then.” I nod, meeting Dum’s eyes, getting used to the way they speak. “What must be done in order to save him?”

  Everything has a price in Wonderland. If I want to save the Prince, there will be a fair trade. I need to know if I can pay it. They speak at the same time, that eerie voice floating through the air.

  “Love brought about the Prince’s demise. Love will set him free.”

  I look at the Hatter.

  “Who did the Prince love?” I ask, even though I have a sneaking suspicion.

  “Only one as far as I know,” he mumbles. “Alice.”

  I sigh.

  “Great. So that’s a no go. Maybe it doesn’t have to be romantic love. Maybe it could be Maternal love?”

  Hatter’s face lights up, excitement coursing through him as he tenses beneath me.

  “The Queen!” he exclaims. “He loved the Queen.”

  “His mother,” Cheshire clarifies. “How can his mother help bring him back? She’s dead.”

  “I might be able to act as a beacon of some sort, able to tether the Queen to this world in the same way I was able to tether Clara in the Hereafter.”

  “You did that?” White asks, startled. “You’ve never done that before.”

  “Change came to Wonderland, the moment Clara Bee linked our hands,” Hatter says, shrugging.

  “Will she be able to do it? Would she want to?” I ask, happy to have some sort of plan in place.

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Hatter lifts me from the chair, setting me on my feet. “Tea party is over everyone. It’s time to go.”

  The guests stand up and begin making their way towards the other side of the room. The twins eye them and stand up. I see Dee lick her lips. I’m starting to think Tweedledum and Tweedledee eat souls.

  “They’re friends,” I tell them again, just to put it out there in case they’re trying to pull the we didn’t know card. “Everyone in this house at this moment is a friend.” I’m definitely putting up a sign.

  They sigh in disappointment before taking their seats again. They sip their tea in silence, their attention on me.

  Be warned, Dee’s voice floats through my head.

  The Hereafter may take a life from the living, Dum adds.

  If you take a soul from the dead.

  Great. Nothing to stress out about then, I think. I hope it doesn’t come to that. And I seriously hope the Tweedles never speak in my mind again. They leave behind an oily feeling. It makes me want to scrape the inside of my brain out.

  Cheshire and White still sit at the table, watching us. White checks his watch again, his knee bouncing restlessly. Cheshire grins when he notices me staring.

  “Try not to get lost.” The message is clear. I scowl at his tasteless comment, steeling my spine as we float towards the other side of the room. When I look over my shoulder, both of them are focused elsewhere.

  “Are you ready, Clara Bee?” Hatter asks. I nod even though my hands shake. The last time hadn’t been so fun; we barely made it out in time.

  He wraps my hand in his, throws his hat, and the portal opens before us.

  “Next time we come here, remind me to wear shorts and a tank top,” I huff as the humidity hits me. Sweat immediately beads on my forehead, my leather pants and jacket making it almost unbearable.

  “You could always take the clothes off.” Hatter grins and wiggles his eyebrows. I roll my eyes.

  “Yes, exactly what I want to do. Meet the former Queen of Wonderland while naked.”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over his shoulder, all while keeping our skin touching. Shirtless and wearing nothing but leather pants, boots, and his hat, the Hatter is a sight to behold, especially while his body glistens with sweat. I frown at how easy it is for him to take his jacket off and glance down at my own, contemplating. I had saved my white cami I had been wearing beneath my clothes when I fell down the rabbit hole. I had put it on this morning, just to give an extra barrier between the jacket and my skin. It’s thin, and it will no doubt show everything through the flimsy material, but it’s ridiculously hot, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to start melting soon if I don’t do something.

  “Fine,” I mutter, working on the buttons down the front of the jacket.

  Hatter pauses, watching me with rapt interest as I slip the jacket from my shoulders, revealing the translucent cami underneath. The sweat has made it even worse, outlining my lace bra underneath. His eyes heat when they drop to the shadow of my nipples through the fabric.

  “Maybe you should leave it on,” he strains, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm.

  “It’s hot,” I point out. “You should have dressed me in something cooler if you wanted me to keep it on.”

  “I might just back you against a tree and have my way with you.” His voice is husky, and it warms my core when the images immediately jump into my brain. He shakes his head, like he’s trying to dislodge the thought. “We’re on borrowed tim
e. No time for a dalliance in the Hereafter.” He looks at my chest again. “But later. Later, later, later.” He smiles.

  We begin moving through the jungle. I try to stay focused on the task at hand, but it’s difficult with the vibes coming from the Hatter. They’re hard to ignore. Between his sideways looks and the “accidental” brushes against my heated body as we weave through the trees, it’s almost impossible to pretend there isn’t such thick tension buzzing between us. I repeat the same words in my mind over and over again. We don’t have time. We don’t have time. The tips of my fingers are already fading.

  “So, where exactly do we find the Queen in a jungle?” I’m thankful I had the foresight to tie my hair up in a loose bun. The sweat runs down my neck in steady trails. I’m not used to this kind of humidity. I don’t see how anyone could be, honestly. It’s like a sauna.

  “Follow the trail of a thousand tears to fancy a meeting with the Old Queen’s ears.”

  I frown at the Hatter.

  “What does that mean? The trail of a thousand tears?”

  He doesn’t answer, instead pointing to the ground in our path. It’s the first time I notice a little sparkle there, something reflecting the light of the sun at increments. It kind of looks like glitter. I bend down, keeping my hand in Hatter’s and take a closer look at what’s causing the light refractions.

  “It’s a crystal,” I say, shocked. “A bunch of crystals.”

  “Diamonds.”

  A strangled choke comes from my throat.

  “We’re following a trail of diamonds. Holy shit!”

  And these diamonds are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They shine more than I’ve ever seen a diamond shine, their facets refracting the light like a star. I have no idea how I missed them before.

  “You have to know what to look for,” Hatter says, answering my unspoken thoughts. “If you don’t know they’re there, you won’t see them.”

  “How is that possible?

  He shrugs. “Magic, I suppose.”