Page 81 of Locked in Wonderland

Why would he claim I didn’t have a boyfriend?

Had something happened to Warren?

And where the hell was he taking me?

Wherever it was, it wasn’t close. The walk seemed to stretch on forever.

“Some kind of clue would be nice,” I said as my frustration mounted.

Nico ignored me. Again.

That proved the final straw. I stopped dead. “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s going on.”

Nico gestured toward a tall building in front of us. “We’re here.”

I stared up at it. It looked like most non-commercial buildings in Wonderland. Maybe a little more ornate and expensive. “Where’s here?”

Nico sauntered back to stand in front of me, his expression unreadable. “You’re at a crossroads, Lysander.”

I rolled my eyes. “Deep. Mysterious. Suitably cryptic.”

“I’m not being cryptic.” His tone was surprisingly earnest. “You have a choice. You can walk away right now and keep believing whatever it is you want to believe. Or you can come inside and learn the truth.”

Something in his voice made my stomach tighten.

“But I’m warning you,” he continued, “if you go in there, it won’t be easy. And it definitely won’t be pleasant. In fact, I suspect you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

I studied him. “So you’re telling me not to go in?”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Would I bring you all the way here to do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fair.”

He turned away and swiped a key card against the entrance panel. The lock clicked open. “Your choice.”

It wasn’t really a choice. I’d been searching for answers ever since Warren’s disappearance. Now someone was offering them to me. From anyone else, I might have suspected a trap. But Nico worked for the Harts. If anyone knew what was going on, it should be him.

I followed him inside. “I choose the truth.”

He didn’t respond. Just gave a curt nod and headed for the stairwell. The climb seemed endless. Not because of the distance, but because of the growing sense that something was wrong. Really wrong.

There was only one apartment at the top—a penthouse. Music drifted through the open doorway, along with laughter and conversation.

Nico headed toward it. “Looks like they’re having a party.”

“Who?”

No answer.

Of course.

He stepped inside without knocking.

The apartment opened into a huge living room decorated almost entirely in black and white, with people lounging across sofas and armchairs, smoking, drinking, and talking.

“Nico!” The shout came from a man with bright blue hair. “You here to party?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Grab a drink. Grab a spliff. Take your clothes off.” He laughed hysterically at his own joke, his belief in his comedic skills no doubt influenced by whatever substance had dilated his pupils.