Page 115 of Locked in Wonderland

The door to the house remained closed.

For now.

That didn't mean it would stay that way. If it opened, who would emerge?

Henry?

Queenie?

Or Kellan, determined to reclaim his property?

The urge to grab Nico's hand was unexpectedly strong, but I resisted.

Even now, while he was rescuing me, I wasn't entirely certain such a gesture would be welcome. It probably wouldn’t be wise to do in front of Hargreaves, anyway. Especially when he already seemed suspicious.

I turned my attention back to the house.

Door still closed.

Seconds crawled by.

Hargreaves made a slight adjustment to the rear-view mirror. No one had been in the car. How much could a mirror move? For a brief moment, his eyes met mine. What must I look like to him? Bloody. Bruised. Gagged. His expression gave nothing away.

I looked away, focusing back on the door.

Still closed.

Beside me, Nico checked the time. The gesture was subtle, but apparently it was enough for Hargreaves to start the engine.

“Where am I dropping you?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

The other driver watched us leave, looking more curious than concerned. And in the rear-view mirror, the door opened, too far away to tell who’d stepped through it.

“Near the nightclub,” Nico said, relaxing back in his seat.

“You going partying?” The question came with a glance in my direction.

Nico smirked. “I’m not.”

The implication was obvious. I was being delivered as a party favor. A little treat for Wonderland’s clientele to feast upon.

“Snuff film?” Hargreaves asked casually.

Apparently Wonderland still had some nasty surprises up its sleeve to shock me.

Nico shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t ask questions. I just do what I’m told.”

Hargreaves didn't look convinced. “I thought Kellan wanted him.”

“You know Kellan.” Nico didn't so much as blink. “He changes his mind a lot.”

Hargreaves nodded. “True. Not usually this quickly, though.”

Another shrug. Nico’s finger hovered over one of the controls on the central console. “I need a moment to brief him on expectations, and explain what happens if he doesn’t meet them.”

“Sure.”

A partition slid smoothly into place. The instant it blocked the driver's view, Nico reached into his pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. He shifted closer. Close enough that his lips brushed my ear.