Late as a Rabbit (Sons of Wonderland Book 2)

by Kendra Moreno

  I open the passenger door and lean in, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. The most I get is a pained groan, and I huff out a breath. I glance at the door to my apartment, never more thankful that I’m on the first floor rather than having to climb the stairs. But Rabbit Man was heavy as hell when I heaved him into the car. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get him inside the apartment. I can’t leave him in my Subaru, though.

  I run and unlock the door to my apartment and prop the door open before coming back to the car. I unbuckle the seatbelt and thread my arm under his and around his back, wrapping my other one around his wide chest. Leg strength, don’t fail me now. I heave with all my might, grunting as my muscles twinge in dismay.

  “You need to lay off the carrots, buddy,” I grunt as I shove him against the side of my car, breathing hard. He moans in response, his head lolling to the other side, as if he’s trying to wake up. I perk up. It would be a lot easier to get him inside if he could help me.

  No such luck. He doesn’t move again. I curse him under my breath, slamming the car door, before I jerk him upright, stumbling under his full weight when it bears down on my shoulders. I can already tell I’m going to hurt my back from the movement as I begin half dragging, half carrying him towards the open doorway.

  By the time I get him to the apartment, I’m sweating enough to soak through the t-shirt I’m wearing, and my breath is wheezing from my chest. I kick the door shut after we make it inside. I’m able to make it to the couch before I drop the dead weight, none too gently, onto the ugly orange cushions. I shove the hair out of my face that had come loose from the tie and take a moment to just breath in giant lungfuls of air. My eyes land on the picture hanging on the wall again, of Neptune and I.

  “This is not what I had in mind when you told me to go on an Adventure, Nep,” I tell the still image. I shake my head and glance around the apartment. Most of my belongings are still in boxes. I haven’t bothered to unpack yet, only going so far as to take out the essentials. A coffee pot sits on the counter, surrounded by a few groceries I didn’t put away. A box with clothing is open with material hanging over the sides where I had dug through it. My eyes glance once more at the hanging picture before I turn them back towards the man hanging halfway off the couch. I sigh.

  Neptune had hated this couch. The day I’d brought it home, she’d been sober enough to come over. She’d wrinkled up her nose at the color and told me it was the ugliest couch she’d ever seen. I had to agree the orange wasn’t the most attractive color, but I argued that the ugliness is what gave it character. We hadn’t seen eye to eye but at the end of that visit, just before she started itching at her arms again, she’d told me she understood why I had bought it, that I was always searching for the good in the ugly. I hadn’t realized then that she’d drawn a parallel between herself and the ugly orange couch. Even though it now had a few stains on it, making it even uglier, I couldn’t bear to part with it.

  Once my breathing is under control, I move Rabbit Man fully onto the couch, picking up his feet and pulling them up on the cushions. I stare at the heavy-duty boots in confusion. There are so many buckles, I’m not sure where to begin in order to take them from his feet. I flip the top buckle open and realize they’re simple enough clasps. When I get the first boot off, I’m startled how heavy it is when I drop it to the carpeted floor with a loud thump. I hope the crazy cat lady above me isn’t awake. She’s already knocked on my door three times this week with complaints about everything from how she can hear the thumping in the pipes when I take a shower to the sound of my coffee machine beeping when it brews coffee. I have no idea how to tell her there’s no way she can hear such things through the floor, but maybe she has superhero hearing. As I free the other boot from a man with rabbit ears on his head, I accept that it could be truer than I originally thought.

  I look at where blood still coats the emerald-green waistcoat on his stomach and frown. In the lab, he’d never been cut into or forced to bleed externally before. Maybe a gunshot wound took more time to heal. I refuse to think about how it would look if I ended up having a dead man in my apartment; the second dead man associated with me. I really don’t want to go to jail. Standing and walking to the box I’d labeled bathroom, I pop open the tape and dig around to find the first aid kit inside. It’s a huge sturdy thing I kept on hand when Neptune had been alive. I was always prepared in case she showed up with wounds or about to overdose. I hadn’t thrown it away afterwards, another memory forcing my hand. I grab the gauze from inside and the antiseptic spray. There’s some numbing spray and long tweezers I grab, too. I hadn’t seen an exit wound for the bullet. I’ve watched enough crime shows to know I should probably remove the metal. I’m not too worried about not having the official medical training since he’s some sort of immortal. I’ll admit I’m a tiny bit nervous about him feeling pain. I know he can feel it after watching the tests back at the lab.

  I drop the supplies on the table and stare down at him. I look at the waistcoat warily, before reaching down and beginning to pop the silver buttons free. He doesn’t stir as I finish the task and open the material gently. I bite my lip when I see the perfectly chiseled abs I reveal, shaking my head. Now is not the time to be ogling him. There’s a small hole to the side of his abs. I hope he’s lucky enough that it missed his organs. Sticking tweezers in body parts is not my forte.

  I grab my phone and shine the flashlight over the wound. The light bounces back from a small glint of metal, and I breathe out a sigh of relief that it isn’t so deep I have to dig. I spray the area with the numbing spray and give it a minute to kick in. He doesn’t stir as I grab the tweezers and gently stick them inside the hole, clamping the ends around the bullet. When I pull it free, the muscles around the wound twitch as more blood seeps out. It isn’t bleeding like a gunshot should, the blood slowly moving, as if it’s already healing. He remains silent and still the entire time. He must be pretty out of it to not feel a bullet being pulled from his stomach.

  I wipe the blood from around the wound, before I coat it with antiseptic spray and tape gauze against his skin. Satisfied with my work, I lean back only for my eyes to slam into a pair of silver ones. He’s watching me, a hard glint in their depths that makes my body ache in response. What is wrong with me? This man is a stranger, and a weird one at that. I shouldn’t be so attracted to someone with rabbit ears on their head. I blush as the thoughts run through my head and a tiny smile curls his lips. The way he’s lounging on my couch, it shouldn’t be a sexy position, wounded and exposed, but it is.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask. My eyes drift to the rabbit ears on his head again, the urge to touch overwhelming. I want to know if they’re as soft as they look.

  “They’re real.” His voice is husky, and deep enough that it threatens to curl my toes. “You can touch them if you want.”

  I raise my brow, a smile flitting to my lips.

  “That sounded vaguely sexual.”

  “I must be doing something wrong then,” he chuckles. “I meant it to be completely sexual.”

  The ears twitch at his words. I’m certain my face is as red as a tomato, and I want to rebel and not touch the interesting things on his head, but I’m above all else, a slave to my curiosity. I scoot closer to him where I kneel on the floor, my face above his as I study the ears. His silver eyes watch me intently as I lean closer. The ears come right out of his skull, no way possible for them to be prosthetics or fake. I reach forward and gently touch my fingers to one. It’s stiff, and yet soft beneath my skin. It feels exactly as my rabbit’s had, like cashmere. He sighs at the feeling, his eyes closing as if in ecstasy.

  “Am I mad?” The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.

  His eyes pop open, meeting my own.

  “All the best people are.”

  I jerk my hand away in shock, falling backwards onto my ass as his words sink in.

  “No,” I gasp. “Please don’t tell me you really are the White Rabbit! I wa
s just kidding before. This has got to be a joke. I’m being Punk’d.” I look around me as if I really do expect Ashton Kutcher to jump from my bedroom door before pointing and laughing at me.

  White grunts as he hoists himself up into a sitting position, his nearly white hair disheveled but in no way unattractive. His waistcoat spreads further, and I have to force myself not to look at the muscles he exposes even more. When he begins to pick at the bandage, I frown.

  “No, don’t do that,” I scold him. “You’ll start bleeding again.”

  He winks at me with those molten silver eyes.

  “No, I won’t. It’s almost healed.”

  He pulls the bandage completely off and reveals skin, pink as if from a healing wound. There’s no raised mark, only the slight discoloration indicating there was a wound there to begin with. My breath stutters in shock, my curiosity urging me forward again. I gingerly touch the skin that only a few minutes before sported a bullet hole.

  “Who are you?” I ask in wonder.

  He shrugs.

  “You got my name right, Jupiter. I’m the White Rabbit.”

  Chapter Nine

  I’m pacing back and forth across my living room, running through everything that has happened. I haven’t spoken since Rabbit Man had revealed he’s the White Rabbit from the story books. The bombshell had sent me into a massive thinking cloud, forcing me to contemplate everything I’ve learned. I frequently look over at White during my pacing. He’s watching me in amusement, the corners of his silver eyes crinkled. Every so often, he looks at the watch on his wrist and studies the face.

  I’m between being horrified with everything that’s happening and being in awe at the possibilities these events have opened up for me. Of course, there have been scientists who talk about wormholes, other dimensions, and all that. And I’ve seen plenty of sci-fi shows and read plenty of books that talk of such things. Did I ever expect to meet someone who was a character from one of those books? Hell, no! And who claimed the white rabbit was just a rabbit in a waistcoat? They are completely wrong. Someone needs to know that the white rabbit turns into a drop dead gorgeous man. And how can I have been so lucky to have that same man currently looking me up and down in appreciation as I pace across the carpet? His eyes on me send goosebumps racing along my arms, making me extremely aware of just how attractive he is. It’s infuriating.

  He shrugs off his waistcoat and sets it to the side, the blood stain making the green a dark-brown color where it touched. I’m sad to see the stain. I would have to attempt to wash it out for him later. But for now, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of the delectable muscles revealed. His body is extremely well defined, his skin perfectly smooth. He’s sitting on the couch in his brown leather pants and nothing else save for a tiny chain with a weird symbol on the end of it. I can’t help but notice the tattoos the waistcoat had hidden, intricate designs etched into his back and across his shoulders and chest, all in white ink. I make out the image of a clock and filigree scrollwork before I give in to my urge to pace.

  “I like your hair.”

  I stop pacing and look at him. He has a smile on his face as he sits with languid calmness, his legs spread in a way that puts him on display. Even his bare feet are sexy. I fight the urge to growl at the unfairness of it. Why does he have to be so beautiful? It’s making it difficult to concentrate.

  I unconsciously smooth down my curls, knowing they have to be a mess after everything that has happened. The red curls have a mind of their own. I squish down the feeling of glee at his words. I need to focus, get some answers. What is the White Rabbit doing in California? How had he ended up as a test subject?

  “What do I call you?” I ask, moving closer to him. I force my eyes to focus on his rather than the amount of skin on display.

  “Most people call me White. Here, I go by Alistair White. I liked when you called me W in the lab, but you can call me whatever you choose as long as it’s me you’re talking to.”

  “You were just a rabbit then. Not a person.”

  “They’re one and the same. You just knew me in one form before the other.”

  I sigh and rub my forehead.

  “Okay, White. I have a lot of questions for you.”

  He smiles.

  “I have no doubt that you do. Your brilliant mind is likely running around in circles.”

  I fight the blush that threatens to climb my neck at his compliment and worry my bottom lip, trying to decide where to start.

  “How did you end up in the lab?” I ask.

  “I had this feeling that I needed to be there. When I meandered around the doors, Dylan grabbed me and took me inside. I could have escaped any time, but I felt like I was where I needed to be. So, I stayed.”

  “You went through all that pain for a feeling?” I shake my head. “And then I came along and stole you.”

  “You saved me,” he grins wide. “Like my very own knight in shining armor.”

  A chuckle slips past my lips at his words, and I sigh.

  “So much has happened. And I’m still trying to process it all. I was just threatened and almost attacked by the coworker I completely thought the safer of the two, only for the rabbit I saved from the lab to turn into a man and kill him.” I meet White’s eyes and hold his gaze. “I’m done for. I’m going to be arrested and deemed criminally insane if I say a word of that to the cops.”

  White stands from his position on the couch and steps towards me.

  “You can always come with me.” He glances at his watch. “I’m afraid I’m quite late.”

  I scoff. “Seriously? I’m worried about going to jail for murder, and you’re worried about the time?”

  His eyes snap to mine again, a fire in their depths that I haven’t seen before.

  “I wasn’t going to let the idiot hurt you, Jupiter. I won’t apologize for how I handled the situation, and I feel no remorse. You have no idea what he planned to do to you.”

  “How do you know? Maybe he was bluffing.” I know that for the lie it is, but still I say it. I just need to understand the entire situation before I decide what to do. If I don’t call the cops soon, there will be too much suspicion on me. I’d most certainly go to jail. There is no proof against Josh.

  White’s eyes go hard at my words.

  “It’s amazing the things people tell animals when they think they can’t repeat it,” he says, his fists clenching at his side.

  “What?” I ask, dumbfounded by the fierceness I see in his eyes. I knew he had a rough beauty before, but with that fire swirling in silver, I can imagine him suddenly with a sword and armor.

  White begins to stalk towards me, his muscles rippling with the movement. I gulp and step backwards, away from the intensity. My back hits the wall, preventing my escape, and he stops right in front of me, so close, there’s only an inch between our bodies. I look up into those molten eyes, my fingers twitching, the urge to touch so strong I have to fight it. My breath stutters. His body heat soaks in through my t-shirt and jeans, shooting my awareness of him even higher.

  “Do you know what he told me, Jupiter?” I don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to be waiting for one. “He planned on keeping you, the new woman with no friends in the city and no family to miss her. You’re an easy target. Any ideas what he wanted to do once he had you?”

  Suddenly, I don’t think I want to know. Not those details. I know they’re going to be bad.

  “Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t tell me.”

  White’s arms brace against the wall, caging me in. I don’t feel threatened, and I’m confused as to why. White feels infinitely more dangerous than Josh, and yet I know he won’t hurt me somehow. It’s an odd feeling, considering I dismissed Josh as nothing to worry about originally, but the instinct is so strong, I can’t even question it. I know without a doubt, that the White Rabbit means me no harm. Not physically at least. Mentally, he might destroy me if I’m not careful.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his face so close
I can feel his breath fluttering across my lips. “You’re strong enough to handle it.”

  I shake my head. I don’t doubt that I can handle the words, but I don’t want to hear them from White’s lips. I don’t want them to stain my home. The side of White’s lips curl the smallest amount as he looks into my eyes. If I stand on my tiptoes, I can close the distance and press my lips to his. It’s difficult to resist, but I do so. While there’s an undeniable connection, I still don’t know White well enough to give in. Not yet. I do give in to one temptation, though. I place my hand against the white ink on his chest, my fingers spread across the solid muscle there. His smile widens.

  “What now?” Do I call the cops? Do I just run, knowing that I’m going to be blamed?

  “Come with me,” he whispers, his body shifting closer until his hips meet mine. I suck in a huge gulp of air at the contact.

  “Where?” My eyelashes flutter at the feeling of his body pressed into me, the ridges of his muscles pushing against my softness.

  “You know where.” One of his hands drops to my waist, his fingers grazing my skin where they dip under the edge of my t-shirt, sending small bolts of electricity through my body. “I can take you on an adventure. The most intense adventure you’ve ever been on.”

  My eyes widen before they flick over to the picture of me and my sister. It takes only a few seconds to decide.

  “Tell me more.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Wait, so you’re telling me I can go to another world, another dimension?” I ask, staring at White. He’s sitting on the couch again, and I’m standing in front of him. I’d been too wired to sit down even though it’s well past two in the morning. He just told me that in order to get to Wonderland, we would have to go through a portal to another dimension. I laughed a little at that. Of course, there is some science behind going to Wonderland. I’m still a bit surprised that the magical realm of a trippy story is real, but the evidence is sitting in front of me with surprisingly soft rabbit ears. It’s safe to say I’m about to learn a lot of new information.