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“You took it to Hell, didn’t you?” Callister scoffed.
Ransom clenched his jaw, irritation flickering in his eyes at the accusation. "I have it under control," he growled. "This isn't up for discussion."
“We’re discussing it rightnow!” Callister argued. “You’d better go get it!”
Ransom’s eyes narrowed at his friend but said nothing.
Chess leaned against the back of the sofa, arms crossed, gaze thoughtful. "While I don't doubt your judgment, Ransom, the Vorpal Sword is our only hope of defeating Roxanne. Leaving it in Hell could prove problematic. This could be our only chance to get rid of the Red Queen forever. Please...I know it’s not how things have always been done, but think of the greater good.”
Ransom's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. I bit my lip, staying silent. This wasn't my place to intervene, but I agreed with Callister and Chess.
After a brief, yet tense moment, he sighed.
"Fine." He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration etched into his handsome features. “But you’ll have to be the one to fetch it. I have to prepare my club and my staff for the queen’s arrival.”
Chess studied Ransom, his green-eyed gaze inscrutable. “Of course I’ll go to Hell. Just tell me where to look.”
As Ransom gave a description of landmarks, I felt a fiery surge of warmth and affection for these men who were willing to go to Hell and back to save their world. No matter the danger ahead, as long as I had them by my side, I knew I could face anything.
Even the Red Queen.
* * *
ChapterTwelve
ALICE
I watched as Chess faded into the air, particle by particle. Callister swayed unsteadily on his feet, and I leapt up to help him sit back down on the sofa with me. His violet blood seeped through the dressings covering his body, creating an unsettling contrast against the white gauze.
“Oh no! You’re bleeding through your bandages!”
Callister grimaced, his eyes glassy with pain. I could tell he was trying to suppress the anguish that radiated through his body. His tattoos of insects and snakes seemed to writhe in pain, mirroring their owner's agony.
"His wounds are deeper than I realized,” Ransom observed, his voice laced with concern.
"The raven queen dances under the midnight sky," Hatter babbled from the sofa across from me, "while Callister the Caterpillar shifts between the shadows." He paused, blinking at me with a hint of recognition. "Alice? Is that you?"
“Yeah, it’s me,” I assured him, although worry was starting to gnaw at my insides. Hatter's deteriorating mental state was almost as concerning as Callister's injuries. I tried to imagine Hatter returning to sanity and Callister’s pain to stop, but it didn’t work.
Desperate, I looked to Ransom for help. “They’re getting worse. Why aren’t they getting better?”
“There’s too much dark energy around them. It’s blocking their magic.”
I threw my hands up in frustration.
“Great. So how do we help them? Is there anything we can do?”
“There’s a way...” he began, his eyes darkening. “The energy blocking their magic has to be pushed out of the way by even stronger energy.”
“Like what?”
Ransom’s eyes flicked over to Callister.
“No,” he said, frowning so hard that his split lip started bleeding again.
“Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it!” I insisted. The tension in the room was palpable, setting my nerves on edge.
But when Ransom slid me a heated look, warmth began to pool low in my belly.
