The White Rabbit

by Autumn Dawn

  Ali sighed. “Yes, but...."

  "Have you met his brother yet?"

  Ali frowned at her. “Yes, I met Cat. I'm sorry to say he lives up to his name.” Really, what did it take to get a rise out of this woman?

  Mrs. Heart fluffed her shawl rather indignantly. “He's a bright boy. He only needs the right woman to take him in hand. I'm afraid he's been rather overindulged the last few years."

  "So I heard,” Ali muttered, thinking of the queen.

  "You know nothing about it,” Mrs. Heart said sternly. “Your own Rabbit was in much the same position once."

  Ali grimaced.

  Mollified, Mrs. Heart continued, “Will you accept some advice from an old lady, Ali? You need to have particular care handling men like my godsons."

  "I thought they were your grandsons,” Ali interjected.

  "Hush! My point is, they have never had to work for a lady. Women have spoiled them.” She looked at Ali meaningfully. “It is up to women like us to make them work to get what they want. Take Rabbit, for instance. As hot as his passion might burn right now, if you were to give in to him too easily, you would never hold him."

  "You're saying I shouldn't give away the milk without making him buy the cow,” Ali said, deadpan. Considering the way Rabbit lit her up—and vice versa—the only way to avoid that was a hasty wedding.

  That earned her a stern look. “I'm telling you to be smart. You do want to keep him, don't you?"

  Ali drew a deep breath. Did she? Was she really going to say no to that? “I do."

  Mrs. Heart settled back, satisfied. “Excellent! I can see you're going to a wonderful addition to the family. Not that I expected differently,” she added with a touch of smugness.

  Ali let a moment of silence go by while she gathered her thoughts. She still had questions, many of them, but the most important one was, “Do you know what really happened to my parents?"

  Mrs. Heart looked at her for a long moment. She held her teacup contemplatively and stared over its rim at something only she could see. “Of course I knew your parents, Ali. Your mother became a dear friend of mine, while she was in the mirror."

  Ali took a deep breath. This was what she wanted to hear.

  Mrs. Heart smiled at her. “You were a dear child, but unfortunately, not everyone felt so, nor loved your parents. There were attempts on your life, which frightened them even more than the ones on their own. They tried to find a safe place to hide you until you'd grown a bit, become more sturdy. They hoped to forge a peace while you were gone to ensure your safety, and adopted a daughter of one of the rival dukes.

  "Unfortunately, this only complicated things. The child grew to be just like her natural father. When the king and queen—your parents—died of old age, she stole the crown."

  Mesmerized, Ali stared at her. She couldn't think what to say.

  "You were still very young when your parents sent you and your nurse into this world to protect you. Sadly, they never got over their fear of losing you. In the end, they chose to let you remain here, where you were safe."

  Ali gaped at her. “They abandoned me? Just like that?"

  "They were trying to protect you,” Mrs. Heart said. “I never agreed with their choice, however. I followed you here and settled next door to keep an eye on you. I never fully trusted your silly nurse, you see. Oh, she was devoted to you, but terrible with money. As you know, by the time she died, she had nothing left of the fortune she'd been given to watch over you."

  Ali huffed. Her grandmother was not her grandma? “She gave me the locket,” she explained as she showed it to Mrs. Heart. “She pointed the way."

  "You should have been told the truth long ago,” Mrs. Heart contended. “By now you wouldn't need the locket to use the mirrors. It doesn't matter now, however. You know the truth. What will you do with it?"

  Well, that was a ringing good question. What would she do? She ought to grill Mrs. Heart further, but these revelations were confounding her, not the least of which was, “How in the world did my parents become rulers of another dimension?” As far as she knew, her father was born in New Jersey and her mother had been an army brat.

  Mrs. Heart firmly set down her tea. “That is a story for another day, my dear. I suggest you go home and think on these things and give an old woman some rest. I'll be here in the morning if you need to ask any more questions."

  Ali looked at her doubtfully. “How can I be sure of that? Every time I turn around, things keep changing. For all I know, you'll turn into a butterfly or something and fly away.” Wouldn't that be the luck?

  Mrs. Heart grinned. “Hardly, my dear. Run along, now. Tomorrow will come in its time."

  Ali soon found herself on the porch. Mrs. Heart had practically shoved her out the door. Disgruntled, she made her way back to her own house. Granted, she wasn't in the mood to have any more surprises sprung on her, but it wasn't fair that everyone knew about her parents but her. As the thought formed in her head, she froze. Wait a minute! She'd shown the picture to Rabbit. How could he have not known who her parents were? Even if he'd never met them in person, surely he'd seen their pictures before?

  Why hadn't he told her?

  The question bugged her all night. As a result, it greatly influenced the reception she gave her visitor the next morning.

  Chapter Six

  An earthquake woke her. Startled, Ali bolted upright and clung to the bed as the room shook. Oddly, it took less than a minute for the house to exhale and settle, like a dog yawning after a brisk nap. When she was sure there'd be no aftershocks, Ali slipped out of bed and padded barefoot down the stairs to make sure there'd been no damage.

  She froze at the top, unable to believe her eyes.

  She had a brand new house. In the space of one nap, someone had replaced the worn carpets with gleaming hardwood, the frayed furniture with beautiful leather couches and rich velvet and brocade pillows. It looked as if a designer and a crew of maids had tripped through, thoughtfully positioning throw blankets, candles and accessories. Everything gleamed with fresh paint and polish. She even had new light fixtures.

  When she was finally able to stop gaping, she drifted down the stairs and looked in the kitchen. It was even more impressive, if possible, with shiny new appliances, countertops, tile, everything!

  Ali was having trouble breathing. She put a hand to her forehead, trying to take it all in. Could she still be asleep? Desperate to find out, she hurried to her new entranceway and looked out. It was the same yard, with the same junky car out front. The neighbors houses looked the same.

  Her eyes caught on Mrs. Heart's house and she took a step forward. Mrs. H would have answers.

  Just then a crash came from upstairs. Ali jumped and ran back inside. Rabbit! She'd catch him this time!

  At the top she skidded to a halt. Her room had changed. Like the rest of the house, someone had worked magic to drape her antique cannonball bed with a bronze satin coverlet and luxurious pillows. Her walls were now painted in taupe Venetian plaster and silk drapes hung from the sparkling windows and pooled luxuriously on the floor. Red candles were lit around the bed and vases of fragrant roses sat on every dresser and table.

  "Do you like it?"

  Ali gasped and whirled. Rabbit stood there, as real as the roses, his smile as warm as sunlight. His cologne was more exotic, more sultry than she remembered, but nothing else had changed. He was her Rabbit.

  Tears started in her eyes. “You...."

  Instantly contrite, he took her in his arms. “Hey, you don't like my style of courtship? I wanted to help you sort out a few problems before I asked you to marry me."

  "Marry you?” she gasped. She was still in shock, and he whacked her over the head with this! “But, my house! How did you do it?"

  He shrugged and led her to the bed to sit down. “Magic, of course. That's how I did everything. I thought we could live on this side of the mirror, too. My friends can still come and visit and we won't have to deal with the queen. She
really doesn't like you, you know.” He grinned.

  "But.... “She didn't know what she was objecting to, maybe the suddenness of the changes. She was still reeling, off balance when he leaned down and kissed her. Ali let the confusion of it distract her for a moment, then pushed him back. “Hey!"

  "What?” he complained, his voice husky as he kissed her temple, tried to drift lower.

  Ali pulled his hair.

  He frowned at her.

  She jumped off the bed and glared at him. “You can't just walk in here and rearrange my life! I thought I was loosing my mind, seeing rabbits everywhere. How can you expect me to marry you just like that?"

  He raised a brow. “I thought actions spoke louder than words.” There was a touch of arrogance about him.

  Unfortunately for him, airing her concerns reminded her of others. “For that matter, why didn't you tell me about my parents? There's no way you couldn't have known who they are. Nobody forgets a cotton-pickin’ monarch!"

  He blinked. “Excuse me?"

  Now that made her mad. “My parents were the king and queen! How could you not know that? You did know and didn't tell me!” Fury cranked up the volume on her voice, making it shrill. She threw a pillow at him. “You jerk! You sent me to the spa knowing who they were and never said a word.

  Rabbit absently blocked the pillow. He seemed perplexed. “I wanted to spare your feelings?” he ventured, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

  That only spiked her temperature. “You're not even listening to me! I can't believe I fell for your tricks. You're up to something, aren't you? You were just using me!” She yanked another pillow off the bed, and this time she kept a good hold of it as she whacked him over the head.

  That got his full attention. “Feisty, aren't you?” he growled as he grabbed it. He tugged hard and sent her sprawling across the bed. Before she could protest, he had her pinned.

  "Let go of me, you snake!” she snarled at him. “You can't just come in here and—mmph!” His mouth effectively cut off the rest of the tirade.

  She could never describe how she knew. Maybe it was the ferociousness of it, or the scent of cologne suddenly registered. Whatever it was, she knew in seconds that whoever it was, it wasn't Rabbit.

  Her sudden frozen stillness must have alerted him. He pulled back and studied her with a familiar smugness.

  "Cat?” she asked with dread. “I know you're not Rabbit."

  He smiled that familiar Cheshire smile. “At your service, sweetheart. But why don't we pretend for a little while longer?” His head lowered again.

  "Cat!” she shrieked in fright. She did not want to kiss him.

  He winced and raised his head. The illusion he'd been using melted away, and then he studied her with his own face. Thoughtfully, as if this were a minor setback. “I never was very good at charades.” His whole aura spoke of a tiger contemplating a pounce.

  Her face set in cold lines. She simply stared him down.

  He sighed gustily and rolled his eyes. Giving her a jaded look, he rolled to one side. His hand snaked out and gripped her arm to keep her from bolting from the bed. “No. If I have to deal with histrionics I may as well be comfortable. I don't feel like chasing you through the house."

  Halted in mid-flight, she glowered at him. “I have nothing to say to you. Get out."

  "But we have so much to talk about,” he said lazily. “You had so much to say about your fascinating lineage, for instance. Go on...."

  She crossed her arms and stared defiantly at him.

  He smiled that untrustworthy smile. “Come now, darling. I could thaw you out first, if you prefer...."

  "You're despicable."

  "I am. Now spill it.” There was a warning in his eyes.

  She chose not to look at him. “I don't know much about them. Mrs. Heart said they'd been murdered.” She slanted him a challenging look as she remembered he was related to Mrs. Heart. “She likes me."

  His eyes darkened. “Don't try that card, sweetie. It won't work.” He was silent for some minutes, his gaze fierce as he looked at the coverlet. He seemed to be struggling with something. Finally he rose from the bed. “I need to consider some things. Don't try to leave the house. I'll hear.” He raised a warning finger at her, then stalked out the door.

  Ali released her breath after he closed the door. Eiy! She felt like she'd just fought a bloody battle. Whatever he said, he cared what Mrs. Heart thought, but Ali instinctively knew she couldn't push him about it, or it would backfire. Whatever drove him, he was hanging by a thin wire. She needed to escape.

  Her eyes lit on the cheval mirror and she sucked in a breath. Of course! She hurried over to it and looked in the glass.

  Cat's image blinked into place over the glass. He shook a warning finger at her.

  Ali gasped and backed off. The image faded.

  Great! Now what? She glanced out her window, but she knew it was a two story drop with nothing but rosebushes to break her fall. Mrs. Heart would help her if she could just get to her. The trick was not to provoke Cat....

  Ali made her way cautiously downstairs. She didn't know what her captor was capable of, but she didn't doubt he was on guard. She wouldn't get out while he was conscious. Maybe she could whack him on the head or something.

  He was staring out the window at her yard when she came down. He glanced at her, his gaze contemptuous, almost daring her to do something stupid. He wanted an excuse to react.

  She wouldn't give it to him. “I'm having some iced tea. Want some?"

  "Planning to poison me?” he asked even as he strolled over. “How quaint."

  She blew out a breath that lifted her bangs. “Yes, I routinely keep deadly poisons in my kitchen. Besides, your grandmother made the tea."

  "Godmother,” he automatically corrected.

  "Whatever that is,” she agreed. She didn't like him prowling at her back as she entered the kitchen. He made her edgy.

  "I'll pour,” Cat said firmly as she took down the glasses. Apparently he didn't trust her not to slip him something if she did it.

  Favoring him with a dark glance, she retired to the table.

  Mrs. Heart's yard was visible from the bow window. Cat might be her godson, but she'd bet her didn't know that Mrs. Heart was religious about her gardening. It was shaping up to be a fine morning, and she would want to come out before the heat of the day. All Ali had to do was sit here until then. Surely she'd help if Ali could just get her attention.

  Ali considered her tea after Cat set it in front of her. “How do I know you didn't put anything in this?"

  He just smiled at her.

  Okay, she saw his point. He didn't need drugs to control her. Grudgingly, she sipped her tea. Now what? Obligingly, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had a legitimate reason to linger at the table. “I don't suppose you left the contents of the fridge alone when you rearranged the place? I'm hungry."

  Cat quirked a brow at her. Breakfast appeared on the table.

  She blinked at the croissants, coffee, ham and eggs. There was even bowl of sliced fresh fruit. “How do you do that? Are you born able to conjure things out of fresh air, or is it something you learn?"

  He shrugged. “It's a gift, like mirror travel. Not everyone can do it. I'm surprised you can't, though I suppose your parents were not born in the Mirror Lands."

  She considered him. “What do you know about them? I was told they died in a car wreck when I was a baby."

  His gaze was calculating at first, but soon relaxed. “They were the king and queen of Hearts. They've been succeeded by their adopted daughter...” he looked straight at her, “who would love to get her hands on you.” His eyes twinkled with private amusement. “I wonder if she realizes who you are."

  "Of course you'll tell her,” Ali said with mocking calm. “After all, you are her friend. Besides, it's a wonderful chance to get back at your brother.” She no longer felt like eating, but she took a sip of coffee just to prove how unaffected she was by hi
s dastardly plans. “It's a pity, Cat. Under other circumstances I think I could actually like you."

  The doorbell rang just as he opened his mouth. He grimaced. “It's her."

  Ali felt a surge of relief. When he just sat there grimly, she baited him, “Well? Aren't you going to let her in?” She wasn't sure she dared do it herself. The man was too unpredictable.

  Happily, Mrs. Heart didn't wait to be invited. She strolled into the newly renovated kitchen clucking her tongue. She looked at Cat sternly. “Young man, you have some explaining to do."

  Cat just looked at her warily, in no hurry to dig his hole deeper.

  Mrs. Heart exhaled noisily. “At least use the manners your mother drummed into your head and offer me a chair."

  He pursed his lips, but he stood and drew out a chair for his godmother.

  "Thank you,” she said with dignity. “Now then, Ali. What is going on?"

  Ali sent a wary look at Cat. “He invited himself in."

  Mrs. Heart poured herself some freshly conjured tea. “Really. Cat, you're not a stray. Why are you inviting yourself into people's homes?"

  Cat paused for a long, dignified moment. “Is this really the best time for a visit, ma'am?"

  Mrs. Heart regarded him with wintry dignity. “Do not mistake me for a fool, Cattero Raphael ne Heart. Do not mistake yourself for one, either. We both know that your lingering here at this time was a choice that has been coming for a long time. You could have disappeared before now. I suspect you delayed finishing your assignment for the queen, as well. You were sent here to ruin this girl for Rabbit, weren't you?"

  A muscle in Cat's jaw flexed. He said nothing.

  Conversely, Mrs. Heart looked pleased. “I couldn't be prouder of you my boy. I'm an old women. One of the few pleasures in my remaining years will be seeing my loved ones make the right choices. I assume you're ready to move out from under the Queen's thumb?” She raised her carefully penciled brows in enquiry.

  Cat finally smiled. “Well, you do keep reminding me that you're old. While I seriously doubt you're about to visit the reaper any time soon, I suppose I should bear your advanced age in mind and make you happy. Remind me of that when I'm fetching you napkins to deal with the drool."