Page 84 of Locked in Wonderland

Without a word, I unclasped it and handed it over. Nico turned it over, his jaw tightening as he read the inscription. Then he dropped it on the pavement and crushed it beneath his heel.

“I have questions,” I said.

He nodded. “I thought you might.” His gaze swept the street. “Not here, though. You never know who might be listening.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Nico made coffee before he started talking. Although I got the distinct impression it was more for my benefit than his. I sat at the kitchen table, staring into my mug while he moved around the apartment with infuriating calm.

Eventually, he sat opposite me. “Victor’s a collector.”

I looked up. “A collector of what?”

“People.”

The word landed heavily between us.

“It’s his job to identify viable targets and lure them back here.”

“And that’s what I was?” I asked quietly. “A target?”

Nico nodded.

The answer added salt to what was already a gaping wound. “So what? He just goes around seducing people?”

“Not necessarily.” Nico took a sip of coffee. “He uses whatever approach he thinks will be the most effective.”

My stomach lurched.

“For you that was making you fall for him.”

A faint pounding started up in my temples. For a second, I had the ridiculous urge to put my hands over my ears and refuse to listen to another word. Nico had warned me I wouldn’t like the truth. He’d been right. The truth made me look stupid and naïve. It also turned me into a victim, and nobody liked to think of themselves in those terms. Nobody with self-esteem, anyway. “I believed everything he said.”

“He’s very good at what he does.”

That wasn’t remotely comforting.

“He has a ninety percent success rate.”

Finding out he was Employee of the Month didn’t help. “Is he the only collector?”

“No.”

“How many are there?”

“It varies depending on Wonderland’s needs. There are currently four. Two men. Two women.”

“Makes sense.” I barked out a laugh at my apparent acceptance of something that didn’t feel remotely real. Nico sat in silence while I went back to staring into my coffee, allowing me time to process. I thought back. Trying to find the cracks. Trying to identify the clues I’d missed. The moment I’d become prey. “But I approached him.”

“Did you?” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Or did he arrange himself prettily where you had little choice but to stumble across him?”

The memory surfaced immediately. Warren right in my path and smiling. Waiting for me. “Yeah,” I muttered. “That.”

I rubbed my eyes. Everything had become warped. It was the same memories, but an entirely different story. “And the police couldn’t find him because he used a fake name.”

Nico laughed. “Try again.”

My fingers curled into fists. “They knew.”