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“Let me simplify this for you, Tweedle-Dumb,” I emphasize that last word and Cash’s smile slips. Tightening his shoulders, a snarl curling at his lip, the mirror image of Tweed shows through before he can catch himself. “This,” I make a wide circle with my hand, “is an all or nothing situation. Guess you’ve made the decision loud and clear on everyone’s behalf.”
“Come on babe, we don’t need that asshole. There’s so much of Wonderlust I’ve yet to show you,” Cash tries to reach for my hand and I jerk back. The list of my trigger words just gained a new addition. I’m no one’s ‘babe.’
“Your queen’s castle, you mean?” I purse my lips at him. He can’t even deny it and I laugh to myself. Well done Malice, you fool. You took these fuckers at face value, hoping you could reconcile them with your magical pussy. But everyone here has an ulterior motive, even me. “Fucking typical. You know what, Cash? Enjoy reacquainting with your right hand. I’m no one’s pawn.”
Swiveling, I make it all of two steps before Cash appears in front of me with a flash of movement. He has the audacity to look sheepish, his thumbs hooked in the loopholes of his jeans. I refuse to look beneath his neck, not going to have my libido pulled into the trap of his well-defined muscles through the see-through vest. Leaning into my space, Cash’s lips scrape my jawline as he shifts to speak into my ear.
“Do I really look like the kind of guy that needs to rely on masturbating?” Pulling back to lick the length of his fang, I snort in his face.
“Oh of course, silly me,” I shake my head. “I forgot everyone around here was desperate enough to take the only cock for miles as their last resort.” We’re not going to discuss how I did that exact same thing last night, times two. Without waiting for Cash’s next douchebag response, I close my eyes. A strangled cry sounds from inside the wood, the roar of that beast shaking the very foundations, but my shits have run out. Tweed is un-killable and at this point, him and Cash deserve each other.
Opening my eyes, I find the setting I believed myself into. Alone at last, I wrap my arms around myself and let the first tear fall.
25
Sixteen years after Alice’s disappearance
The carriage pulls to a swift halt, the dragonflies hovering in front, just above the bark-covered ground, dropping their reins. Pushing the door open, I peer into the still forest, listening intently.
“Our first mission!” The bubbly redhead bounces on the suede bench behind me and I slam a hand onto her cargo-covered knee.
“Be still,” I bark harshly. We’ve test-run this exact job time and again in the castle gardens. Forcing playing cards to act the role of any foe we may encounter, Arabelle is as ready as she can be. If she keeps her damn head. “The Enchanted Wood is no joke. Keep your focus, or next time I’ll leave you behind.”
“Yeah, yeah. I can’t ‘learn from the master’ from in here now, can I?” Nudging passed me, her boots hit the ground and I follow after. We’re dressed the same, in combat fatigues and military grade boots. Still inside the carriage, the Dodo shuffles around, puffing on a pipe as he grabs Arabelle’s backpack. Halting him in the doorway, I snatch the backpack and toss it over my shoulder with mine.
“I don’t think so,” I growl. He stutters, fumbling his pipe between his feathers.
“But the Queen said-”
“I don’t give a shit what the Queen said. Arabelle is training to handle the weight of the realm; she doesn’t need you to carry her damn bag. Besides, when the night gets dark and we grow hungry, you’d be the first item on the menu.” Shoving him backwards, I slam the door shut and call to the dragonflies. “Return in three days. We will be waiting!” At least they have the good sense to obey me.
Skidding away, the Dodo screams instructions for Arabelle to be careful, wash behind her ears and not to fall for my charm. Fucking charm, there’s a joke if I ever heard one. The Queen assigned her fourteen-year-old daughter’s future to me, but doesn’t trust me to set up camp with her for a couple of days? Give me a break. I didn’t realize the title of Knave of Hearts actually meant glorified babysitter.
Throwing her backpack, Arabelle catches it with a smirk. She knew I’d ditch the entourage, just as she knows she won’t receive special favors from me. I didn’t become what I am today, whatever the fuck that is, by having others carry my shit. Striding for the wood, a small book on legs rushes forward to greet us and I kick it back into the darkened hole it crawled out of. I don’t need a map to know these woods. The parts Dee, I mean ‘Cash’ and I didn’t create ourselves, are made up of the creatures left over from the royal trials once I’d defeated them. Marvelous concoctions made up in a lab with nowhere to belong. I resonate with that, but still doesn’t mean I’ll roll over and let them kill me.
“So…this mission,” Arabelle slinks into my side on silent feet. I smirk internally at the stealthy ability she’s mastered but withhold the praise. She doesn’t need an overinflated ego getting in her way. “You going to tell me what it is, now we’re finally here?”
Pulling a piece of paper from my back pocket, I present the princess with the sketch of a jeweled heart. Not the clipart type with a bowed arch and point, but an actual heart – aortas, valves and all. The drawing is in black and white, artistically shaded to form an exact replica from the memory of the vulture who saw it. How the Red Queen managed to force him to focus long enough from the starved-maddened state I found him in, discarded on the castle’s doorstep, I don’t need to know. Whatever brought him there was worth risking his life, the information slurring from his beak sparking her majesty’s interest, and hence, I have a new quest to complete.
Satisfied Arabelle has committed the sketch to memory, I fold the paper and push it back into my cargo pocket. A storm is brewing and it’s time to move. Cutting right, I lead Arabelle away from jewel forest. Too obvious, I decided the instant our destination was disclosed. Another fool can presume the Jewel Dragon holds this rare and sort-after heart, because they don’t know what it contains.
A checkered path winds through the trees, bushes shrinking away from my presence. Arabelle remains a step behind at all times, my back acting as her shield. For weapons, we rely on our fists and the dual daggers concealed on our bodies.
A cry of a Jabbercocky filters in from the south and I pick up our pace. It won’t take long for word to be mumbled between the mome raths, filtering through the land that the Princess of Hearts is wandering the Enchanted Forest. No one would dare make an attempt on her life in Red Kingdom, but out here, she’s fair game. The fact she represents the last of a royal bloodline is a huge bonus.
“I’m…proud of you,” I grunt beneath my breath. If it were anyone else, I’d presume they wouldn’t hear me, but not Arabelle’s refined hearing. Knowing not to leave the safety of my back, she places a hand between my shoulder blades, knowing exactly what I’m referring to. The events of yesterday.
The Queen entrusted her daughter’s safety to me, but she never could have known I’d take my job so seriously. Strength is not only in the body, but of the mind. So, when suitors came calling, offering to wed the fourteen-year-old and impregnate her as soon as she is able, she shocked the kingdom by slitting each one of their throats. In cold blood, our trophy room of mounted heads just doubled. What can I say, she’s her mother’s daughter.
The path fades into the dirt, no longer inviting tourists to follow it’s track into the darkening depths. The deeper one journeys into the wood, the worse the weather becomes. Repetitive storms, like the one promised in the grey clouds overhead. I smell the air, not scenting acid rain. Only sulfur, the hint of electricity burning my nostrils.
“This way,” I tell my companion, ducking into the thickened canopy. Bushes scratch our legs, vine snakes slithering across the forest floor. An X marks the trunks I am to follow, forming a shortcut between the foliage to lazy river. Water spiders float on the surface, the leisurely flow refusing to be sped up by the gale blowing my hair back. We need to follow the river, but now isn’t the time.
Jumping between boulders, I clear the water and land heavily on the other side. Another set of feet drop behind just as a rumbling bolt of lightning ignites the forest in a flash of spite. The forks split, hitting the ground. Explosions of dirt fly in all directions, like that of a minefield. Avoiding the newly blasted holes in the earth, I run. My backpack jostles, my awareness acutely on the shelter I seek. None of my instincts, however, are on Arabelle. She can fend for herself. A sheet of rain falls, thundering on us as sharply as hail.
The ground becomes slippery within an instant, squelching beneath my boots. Forcing the water from my eyes, I race practically blind, relying on memory to steer me right. A hill slope dips, my feet skidding to the base where rain is pooling rapidly. Wading through the murky depths, my toes hit the metal railway lines. Arabelle runs past, her tiny frame working in her favor as she throws her hands onto the brick platform and heaves herself up. I’m right behind her, bundling us into the hut and slamming the door as another spark of lightning hits, swiftly followed by a crack of thunder.
“Fire,” I snap my fingers at the ashy pit in the center of the hut. Arabelle skids to her knees, snapping the legs of a dining chair into splinters. Sparking a rock against the metal patch on her gloves, the flames take instantly. I cross the space, yanking at a forgotten curtain crumpled in the corner. Dust flies free as I shake it out, fixing the edges over a discarded clothing rail.
