Page 119 of Locked in Wonderland

Good thing one of us spoke fluent Wonderland.

“The streets are saying you resigned.”

Nico came to an abrupt stop. “Who’s saying that?”

I understand his confusion, given that it had been less than half an hour since it happened.

Tom’s grin widened. “I told you. The streets.”

“What else are the streets saying?” Nico asked.

“If you were still employed, I’d have to tell you. But if you’ve really resigned, then you’re no longer in a position of power.”

Nico moved as if to pass him.

Tom immediately sped up his words, clearly afraid of losing his audience. “That the Harts aren’t very happy. That Queenie and Henry are understandably bereft at losing their adopted son. And then there’s Kellan.” His gaze drifted toward me.

“What about Kellan?” I asked.

“What was he like as a child?” he asked Nico.

Nico narrowed his eyes. “Get to the point. We have somewhere to be.”

“That somewhere being a boat, I presume. Unless the Hart’s have it stopped. It does, after all, only take one very brief phone call.”

Fuck. Was it really that simple? Because if so, it didn’t exactly fill me full of optimism..

“Did you ever take his toys as a child?” Tom asked Nico.

“Once when I was seven.”

“And what did he do?”

Nico tugged up the sleeve of his suit jacket, then rolled up his shirt cuff. A thin scar stretched almost the entire length of his forearm. I’d never noticed it before, hidden as it was on the underside. To be fair, when Nico was naked, there were far more interesting things to look at than his forearm.

“Kitchen knife,” he said. “Not even that sharp. It was quite impressive how much force he could use when he was younger than me.” He let the sleeve fall back into place. “I learned my lesson.”

“You say that,” Tom replied, his gaze returning to me, “but have you? He has far more things at his disposal these days than a kitchen knife. I heard he got hold of a gun. Did you hear that? You must have. You know more than I do. Or at least you used to before you resigned.”

Cold settled in my stomach, spreading slowly upward.

Nico grabbed my arm. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t argue.

“He’s coming,” Tom shouted after us. “Better not dally. I’ll get something to wear to a funeral just in case.”

Neither of us responded.

We didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. Partly because I had a feeling we were both reflecting on Tom’s warning—I certainly was—and partly because Nico had increased the pace enough that I needed to conserve my breath. I wanted to ask whether he was afraid of Kellan, but I wasn’t sure it would be an answer I wanted to hear.

When Nico finally stopped, it was between two buildings with a clear view of the gallery across the street.

“Let me guess,” I said. “We have to go through there.”

“Unless you’d rather take on security?”

I leaned against the cold brick. I’d had no desire to see Percy and Lola again after our first encounter. That feeling had only intensified after they’d stood in court and twisted the knife. The prospect of seeing them for a third time was about as appealing as removing my own balls with a rusty pair of scissors. Still, I’d promised Nico obedience.