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My cheeks heated at his words. I busied myself with bandaging a gash on his arm, unsure of how to respond. I didn't want to read too much into a few kind words.
For all I knew, he was concussed.
He winced again, and I realized I was going to need a better way to distract him while I finished my work.
Closing my eyes, I put my imagination to work and thought of the best way I knew how to distract Callister.
A blow job?
I heard Chess laugh under his breath at hearing my thoughts.
Fuck! That’s not what I meant!
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Chess murmured as he stitched up a gash on Callister’s tattooed shoulder.
I held back a sheepish grin, then tried again.
“Here,” I said, handing Callister a lit cigarette. “It’s my favorite flavor.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he hummed. Cautiously, he took it from me, his fingers brushing against mine before he brought it to the side of his split lip. With his one good eye still peering at me, he took a long drag. The tobacco crackled before filling the space around us with a sweet, spicy smell that immediately put me at ease.
“What flavoristhis?” he asked. White smoke curled and rolled off his tongue before being sucked back into his mouth.
Chess paused in between stitches and lifted his nose to the air, his brow furrowing as he tried to figure it out.
“I smell whipped cream and cinnamon...and a dash of nutmeg, but there’s something else underneath. Is it cake?”
“No.”
“I smell coffee,” Hatter said, taking off his hat and plopping down on the sofa across from us. “Is it coffee, or am I mad?”
“You’re mad,” Chess told him.
“But he’s not wrong,” I grinned. “It’s a pumpkin spice latte. Best thing ever.”
“Damn near perfect,” Callister agreed with a nod. His body began to relax and Chess and I were able to finish treating his injuries by the time he finished his PSL cigarette.
"Not too bad, Nurse Alice,” he said, admiring my work. “Looks like I’ll live to vex you another day."
“We might not have another day,” Ransom said, concern etching his features. He came over to join us, although he didn’t sit down. His fingers grasped the back of the sofa as he leaned forward. He looked like he was trying to decide whether to break it in half or throw it across the room. “We need a plan. And quickly. The Red Queen will be here with her soldiers sooner than we think. What’s it going to be? Fight or flight?”
“The Red Queen doesn’t know for certain that we’re here,” said Chess, trying to remain calm. “She doesn’t even know for sure that Alice is here. What if we take Alice and the Vorpal Sword and go straight to the White Queen’s court?”
“It won’t stop her from killing the guests of The Rabbit Hole in search of her,” said Ransom. “You know how murderous she gets when she’s angry.”
“Are you suggesting we fight?” Chess replied. “With what army? Are you going to arm your bunnies with dildos and beat the queen’s soldiers to death?”
I muffled a laugh at the thought.
“You could hide Alice in Hell,” Hatter suggested. “Roxanne’s human. She can’t go there.”
“She can go there, she just can’t come back,” Chess told him. “It would be the same with Alice. Humans can’t come back if we took them to Hell.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Your soul prevents it,” said Chess. “Going to hell is a one-way trip for anyone with a soul. Since demons don’t have souls, we can come and go as we please.”
“Got it. I definitely don’t want to go to Hell. Not even for a little bit.”
