by Lauren Dawes
“Absolutely. The bite and claw marks are very clear.”
My partner blew out a breath and glanced over at me as I stepped a little closer. I saw the conflict in his eyes before he turned his attention back to Lee. “All right. I’ll talk to Brax to see what he knows or if he’s heard anything.”
“Of course.” Lee looked down at the body. “Do you want the ashes again?”
Sawyer nodded tightly and folded his arms. “Yes. And thank you for coming out on a Saturday night.”
The skin-walker shrugged and smiled. “You didn’t interrupt any plans.” Then, pushing his glasses up his nose once more for good measure, he rounded the gurney so he was at the feet end and rolled Blaze out the door.
“I’ve got to know,” I said, rubbing the towel through my hair one last time. “Do you have a closet full of unclaimed ashes somewhere I should know about?”
He shut the door. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go? Go where?”
“It’s time to go into Wonderland and speak to Astrid.”
I heaved a sigh. “I’d forgotten about that. Why, why, why does everything end with me going to Wonderland?”
“Because you’re a magnet for trouble?” Sawyer mused, and I shot him the finger.
“This is already established.” I tried to think of another reason to stay, but ‘I need to wash my hair’ wasn’t going to work. “Well, I don’t want to deal with any more dead fae on the doorstep, so I guess you’re right.”
After securing my holster in place and checking over my Glock, I scooped my hair into a ponytail, then slid on my leather jacket. As I zipped up my motorcycle boots, Sawyer picked up the keys to his bike.
I was about to protest when I remembered that my truck was no more.
As we left, I grumped, “Just FYI, this wasn’t how I pictured spending my Saturday night.”
Twenty minutes later with a full moon guiding our way, we pulled into the overgrown parking lot of an abandoned amusement park on the outskirts of town. Back in the 1950s, it had been the place to take the family for a Saturday afternoon outing, but more than seventy years had passed, and now it just looked creepy.
And like a tetanus shot waiting to happen.
As I swung my leg off Sawyer’s motorcycle, my boots crunched on the broken glass that littered the ground.
“They couldn’t pick a better place?” I asked, shooting Sawyer a look. “First it was the dock and now it’s this?”
I gestured to the decaying entrance of the Buxton Amusement Park. Once upon a time, a grand mansion-like structure had marked the entrance into the park, but all the timbers had rotted away, leaving the roof sagging, the window lintels hanging at a cock-eyed angle, and the outer shell of siding—complete with popping nails and peeling yellow paint—warping under the seasons’ unrelenting changes. A huge pile of debris covered in a snowy cap crowded one side of the structure, looking like a ride had been torn down and forgotten about.
“Are you sure the entrance to Wonderland is here now?”
Sawyer nodded and moved toward the only way in or out, leaving me to scramble after him.
“How?”
He flicked his gaze in my direction before looking ahead once more. As he pulled out his Glock, he said, “There’s only one haunted house in Buxton, and it’s in here.”
I bit back my groan, wishing I didn’t have to do this. Venturing into Wonderland would guarantee me one of two things. The first is an injury—possibly of the fatal variety—which I had no intention of getting because it was Christmas in a few days, and it was my favorite time of the year. Secondly, every time I went into Wonderland, I was left to fight something big and scary.
And I was not in the mood for big and scary.
Something scuttled past us as we walked through the main entrance, darting under a pile of rotting wood. I took out my Glock and aimed, swinging the muzzle around in a one-eighty-degree arc—scanning—until Sawyer placed his warm hand onto my arm.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I re-holstered the Glock and continued walking, my head always turning, waiting for something to step out in front of us. Emerging on the other side and into the park, my gaze traveled up, up, up at the giant Ferris wheel. It was teetering dangerously to one side, the gondolas all suspended in midair with their doors open like the last time anyone had ridden it, they’d leaped for their lives.
Farther and farther we walked, passing the rocket ride, a carousel where the horses were all gone and only the tell-tale canopy remained, and side-show games of skill that were falling into ruin and covered in snow.
“Where are we going?”
“There.” Sawyer lifted his hand and pointed at a building with a huge, flaking sign above it.
“The Screamer?” I asked incredulously, narrowing my eyes at the ancient, haunted house.
“Come on.” He tugged me closer, then helped me climb up into the station of the ride. At the entrance, there were half a dozen converted bumper car carriages all lined up on a single track. I scrutinized the pile of rusty metal and bolts suspiciously.
“We have to get in there?” I asked, jabbing my finger at the six little death traps waiting patiently to take us to our doom.
Sawyer shook his head, walking along the long side of the platform. When he reached the first car in line, he stepped off the creaking wooden platform and entered the haunted house, disappearing from view. I stood there, unwilling to move because what kind of sane person would volunteer to go into a dark, abandoned amusement park ride in the middle of the night?
“Cat?” Sawyer called. When I stayed put, he emerged. Holding out his hand to me, he said, “Come on. It’s safe. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
I stared at him incredulously for a moment, then blew out a breath. I could do this. I just had to put on my big girl panties and do it. Pulling my opal out of the top of my shirt and jacket, I’d hoped to find the stone glowing, but it was curiously quiet again.
Reaching out, I took Sawyer’s hand and let him tug me down past the cars and into the cloying darkness. As I passed the first car in line, however, I paused.
Reaver was propped up against the seat.
“I didn’t see that when I passed just before,” Sawyer said.
I holstered my Glock. “That’s because it doesn’t like you.” I picked up the sword by the hilt and felt it shiver with heat. “You’re a happy little sword today,” I murmured, holding it down at my side since I had nowhere else to stash it. “Although, I have no idea why. I’m about ready to change my pants here.”
Sawyer led the way into the dark maw of the ride, and like a good little partner, I followed. Darkness consumed us, but Reaver’s faint glow helped us to keep our bearings.
“This way,” Sawyer said, his voice coming from my right.
“Why does this have to be extra creepy? Why couldn’t the entrance have been kept at the docks? Or better yet, at a pet store with all the fluffy puppies.”
He whispered, “Because the gate at the docks was compromised by Kseniya, and the fae would only eat the puppies.”
I tripped over something and cursed, rubbing at my knee. “Firstly, gross. Secondly, I hate that witch. And not just because she stole my necklace. I hate how she’s made everything so…” I waved my hand around, “… inconvenient.”
I stumbled forward another couple of steps but drew to a stop when the sensation of spiders crawling over me made me shudder. “We’re here,” I murmured under my breath, too afraid to speak any louder. “Sawyer?”
His hand was suddenly on my lower back. “I’m here.”
“Is Astrid meeting us in here? I can’t see a damn thing.”
Reaver glowed a little brighter at my declaration, illuminating a six-foot radius. I swiveled on the spot, blinking against the glare of the light, then yelping when I found a white-haired woman standing just a few feet away. Her skin was the color of alabaster, but in the glow of Reaver, it turned
pale blue. Her eyes were almond-shaped and milky white, her cheekbones and chin sharp.
“Hello, Catherine Ellen McKenzie,” Astrid, the Seelie Queen said in a slow, rhythmic beat.
I felt the tug of her influence just for a moment before muttering to myself, “I wish you fae would stop using my full name.”
“My apologies,” she replied without sounding even a little bit apologetic. She looked around. “Where is Blaze? He was supposed to escort you here.”
“Dead,” Sawyer said.
“Dead?” she murmured, eying Sawyer like he’d been the one to deliver the death blow.
“As a doornail,” I added.
Between one breath and the next, the queen’s serene expression warped into something terrifying. Her teeth turned to daggers, her angular cheekbones mimicking the shape and sharpness of her teeth. Her eyes became two black pits in her skull, and her pale hair writhed on top of her head like it was alive. I swallowed hard when I saw beneath the glamor she cloaked herself in and retreated back a step with an audible schhhict as my boots scraped against the wood.
I stepped behind Sawyer, reasoning I wasn’t going to him for protection—merely using him as a human… err… supernatural shield.
“I will peel the skin from your body,” the fae queen hissed, her whole body rigid as if she was about to attack.
“Wait. We didn’t kill him,” I hurried to say. “He just showed up that way.”
Astrid blinked, then shook herself, her glamor sliding back into place like she’d never been the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen before. She cleared her throat. “How did he die?” she asked in that same calm, controlled cadence as before.
Weird. “Dagger to the stomach,” I replied, peering around Sawyer’s back.
“Who did it?” Although her voice was cool and calm, I could practically see the fire burning in her eyes.
“We don’t know. Could’ve been anyone. It happened on the street while he was trying to buzz into the building to speak to us.”
“Or perhaps it was the same person who attacked me.”
I stepped out from behind my partner. “Blaze said there had been an attempt on your life.”
She confirmed my statement with a nod. “My sister usurped my throne a month ago. She failed to kill me then, but I do not think she would give up so easily.” She walked over to one of the props in the haunted house—a vampire in a coffin that I assumed sprang out at one point or another. She traced her ivory finger over the waxy face and shivered a little.
“Wonderland…” she began, still staring down at the figure, “… is a cyclically controlled realm. Equal time must be held by each Court. The Shadow Court ruled for twenty-nine years last cycle. Therefore, The Golden Court must rule for the same amount of time in this cycle.”
“Is the cycle always twenty-nine years?”
“No, it changes according to what our seers tell us. They map the stars and read them to find out the correct number.” She moved away from the vampire and closer to the wall. “My Court had only been in power for the equivalent of a human year when she overthrew me. During that first year, she’d been picking off my guards one by one so I was left defenseless when she finally made her move, and now that the balance has been disturbed, Wonderland is suffering for it. It is already withering under her rule. The lands are filled with ice and snow when they should be filled with wildflowers. A bitter wind weaves through all who live here, when it should be a warm, caressing breeze. The nights are long and cold, when they should be shorter and filled with warmth.”
“What’s going to happen if she’s not removed from power?”
Astrid turned to face me, her expression pensive. “Then Wonderland will die, and the fae will be forced to relocate to your world, Ms. McKenzie.”
I shivered. The idea of more fae wandering around out there wasn’t a good one. “I thought Wonderland was created by the fae. Surely, you could do it all again?”
The queen stared at me for a full minute, unblinking, which was creepy AF. “Two centuries ago, we did create Wonderland, but our power has been waning ever since. If Wonderland collapses on itself, there will be nothing any of us could do to restore it. We have grown too weak to wield that sort of power again.”
Fuck.
All right, so the stakes were high. “I don’t understand what I can do to help.”
The fae pointed a finger at my chest. I clutched at my opal protectively. I was getting really sick of people trying to take it from me.
“You want to know where it comes from? What power it possesses?” she mused softly.
I gripped Reaver more tightly.
“I could tell you what I know about its origins and its powers.”
“And what do I have to do in order to gain this information?”
I wasn’t fool enough to think she’d just give it to me for free. Nothing came for free with the fae. She’d emphasized the word could—she could tell me what she knew of its origins—but she never said she would. Also, what she did know could be the same as what I already knew. If that were the case, I’d be putting my neck out for information I already had.
Astrid smiled slightly. “Help me restore balance to Wonderland.”
I looked over at Sawyer, only to find his expression distant. Distant Sawyer was no substitute for Thoughtful Sawyer. Grabbing him by the arm, I pulled him away from the fae queen and said quietly, “What the hell are we going to do?”
“It’s not an issue of what we’re going to do. It’s an issue of what you’re going to do. The bargain she’s made is for you only. I’m just here for moral support.”
“I’m not feeling very supported,” I replied mulishly.
He touched my cheek—just a brush of his fingertips, but I felt it melt through my body. He jerked his chin in the fae queen’s direction. “You don’t need her help. Mrs. Brown will be back from vacation soon, and you can ask her then.”
I tucked Reaver under my arm. “I don’t even know when she’s coming back. What if she’s gone on a six-month cruise or something?”
Sawyer shook his head. “She wouldn’t have gone away for that long without telling you. You know that. You also know that making a deal with a fae is a bad idea.”
“Getting murdered by a fae is also a bad idea. Besides, I doubt Kailon will be willing to wait for me to figure out my personal shit before he attacks me again.” I looked over at the queen, who was standing eerily still, watching me right back. I was either about to make the worst mistake of my life or… yeah, that was it. I was probably about to make the worst mistake of my life, but with Kailon breathing down my neck, what other choice did I have?
Resolute, I turned, but Sawyer stopped me. Whispering low and soft into my ear, he said, “I’ll support whatever decision you make, but just make sure you’re very specific with your demands. The fae don’t place time periods on when they will complete something.”
Nodding, I spun around to face Astrid once more. “If I help to restore you, you’ll tell me what I need to know about the opal right now. No tricks. No veiled speech. No half-truths. Everything. No telling me in a decade or keeping that shit to yourself until I hand over my first-born son,” I bitched. “Oh, and I can ask as many questions as I want.”
Astrid’s gaze flickered in Sawyer’s direction. When the queen spoke again, there was laughter in her voice. “I see you’ve been educated a little in the ways of the fae. Many humans have fallen for our deals in the past, never to collect their rewards because they didn’t ask about the fine print, as it were.”
I folded my arms awkwardly since I refused to lay Reaver down. “Do we have a deal?”
“I will place one caveat on your demands.”
Fuck. “Let’s hear it.”
“All your questions must be asked here, now. I will not divulge anything further once this little tête-à-tête is over. Do we have an accord?”
“Deal.”
She bowed her head ever so slightly. When she straightened, she
looked me square in the eye. “That opal once belonged to my sister, Avi. She gave it to her lover over a human decade ago.”
I felt a ripple of unease shiver through me. A lover? If she gave it to her lover, how in the hell did my father get his hands on it? My thoughts came to a screeching halt, and I began to shake my head. No. Nope. It couldn’t be possible.
“Why?” I croaked.
“For protection out in the human realm.”
In the human realm. Avi’s lover had been human. Even though I didn’t want to consider the possibility, I let the question form in my head. Was my father Avi’s lover? As much as I hated to admit it, the timeline fit. My mother died fourteen years ago, and that was when my father gave it to me. But my parents were in love. There was no way my father could’ve been cheating on my mom…
… could he?
“What else?” I demanded, starting to pace. The glow coming off Reaver bounced across the old floorboards beneath our feet—agitated, just like I felt.
“From what my spies tell me, he was given the stone because he constantly endangered himself in his career. She wanted to prevent him from getting seriously injured or killed.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as more and more of what Astrid was telling me fit into my father’s story. I cleared my throat. “What else?”
“The stone is a conduit for power,” Astrid murmured, and as I turned my head, I found her studying me curiously. “It cannot be taken forcefully or from a corpse… it can only be stolen or freely given by the current owner in order to work as it was intended.”
I nodded. Kseniya already told me it was a conduit. Astrid confirming that only helped to cement the fact she was telling the truth.
“What else?”
“You are in danger every minute you have that stone. My sister wants it back. She overthrew me with help this time, but she needs her stone returned to her in order to keep her rule strong. Already, her grip on Wonderland is starting to wane.”
I came to an abrupt stop, the boards beneath my feet creaking ever so slightly with my shifting weight. “I’ve had it for years and never had any issues with people trying to reclaim it.”
