Rabbit cleared his throat and dropped his eyes. When he looked up several seconds later, he said, “Ellis . . . your friend . . . I think she’ll be okay. In time.”
I nodded, heaving a sigh of relief. Rabbit knew Wonderland. He knew if she would be okay or not. I stared at him. “Ellis had a friend, too. Like I have you. She would talk to me about him. He’s called Heathan.”
A moan slipped from Rabbit’s mouth, and I frowned in panic. “Are you hurt, Rabbit?” He breathed hard and slammed his hand against the wheel. “Rabbit?”
“What happened to . . . Heathan?” His voice sounded strained. He was speaking through gritted teeth once again.
“He was sent away from her, and she never saw him again. She would cry when she told me about him. She was waiting for him to come back. But every day, when he didn’t return, she grew sadder and sadder. Her voice grew quieter and quieter until she spoke no more.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She told me she loved him . . . and that he had been hurt badly too, by the bad men, then they sent him away. She was left all alone. No hope and no Heathan.”
Rabbit stared out across the fields. “They’re so green. The trees,” I remarked. Rabbit nodded. He didn’t speak for quite a few minutes. Eventually he turned around, and I thought he looked . . . upset? I was used to him looking angry and sad, but not upset.
“Rabbit—?” I went to speak, but he started the car, cutting me off.
“We’re going to be late,” he said in a gravelly voice, then raised his pocket watch to his ear and tapped on the metal. I frowned when I saw that his hand was shaking. I didn’t say anything though, because sometimes my hands shook too.
Looking straight ahead, I said, “I’m ready.” A long deep breath. “Ready for our adventure, in Wonderland.”
I had never seen anything like it. Tall trees were scattered around the roads, and vehicles of all shapes and sizes whizzed past us—the people of Wonderland going about their business. I watched with bated breath as we passed buildings and bright lights. As we passed fields that rolled in greens and yellows for such a long time that I struggled to see where they ended.
The wind blew through my hair, ruffling my curls. As he drove, Rabbit glanced over to me from time to time. I smiled, but he still looked confused, as if I were a puzzle he was trying to work out. I had no idea why, but I was too focused on the strange sights to ask.
So much time passed that the sun began to set. Just as it touched the horizon, Rabbit turned off the country road we were on and pulled onto a dirt path. Bushy tree branches curled above us to create a tunnel. I leaned my head back and caught the last rays of sun slicing through the leaves. When I lifted my head I saw a building up ahead. A house made from wood stood before us.
Rabbit pulled the car to a halt. There were no sounds coming from this house. No screams or crying. Everything was just . . . silent.
Rabbit’s hands slid from the wheel, and without looking at me, he said, “This is where we’ll be staying for the next several days.”
I leaned forward and looked out of the window. “Your home?”
He shook his head. “The first stop on our adventure.” I looked at him and found his silver eyes were already on me. “We have many stops to go.”
My heart fluttered in nervous excitement. “And this is number one . . .” I whispered, more to myself than Rabbit.
Rabbit opened his door. I was still staring at the woods surrounding this place when my car door opened too. Rabbit stood, rabbit-headed cane in hand, waiting for me to leave the car. I swallowed back the nerves that were creeping up my throat and stepped out. The ground crunched beneath my shoes.
“This way.” Rabbit held his arm out toward the house. I fell into step beside him. I glanced all around us, searching for any sign of people. As if reading my mind, Rabbit said, “There is just you and I here for now. We will meet more people when our journey truly begins.”
“It has not begun?”
Rabbit led us to a wooden door and paused. Gripping the head of his cane tighter, he faced me and said, “Soon, darlin’. Before we go, we must prepare.” He opened the door. “But first . . . tea.”
My breath caught in my throat. Beyond the threshold lay the most perfect tea-party spread one ever did see. “Rabbit!” I gasped. My hands flew to my mouth. I took a step forward into the house and onward into the magical room just beyond. As I passed Rabbit, I looked up to see him watching me. I moved swiftly to the long table in the center of the wooden-paneled room, and my eyes widened as I beheld the spread. A white tablecloth lay over the table. Tall seats were positioned around it—eight to be exact—and at each seat was set a plate, a teacup and a saucer. I ran my hand over the cloth and smiled at the silver-domed dishes in the center of the table. I looked behind me to find Rabbit, but he was nowhere in sight. Turning back to the table, I lifted the first silver dome to peek at what was underneath. My mouth watered when I saw strawberry tarts. Smiling in excitement, I skipped to the next. Victoria sponge. Desperate to see them all, I removed each cover—cucumber sandwiches, Bakewell tarts, Battenberg cake, carrot cake . . . so much cake! All of England’s finest delicacies.
My favorites.
A floorboard creaked behind me, and I turned to see Rabbit walking back into the room. I opened my mouth to ask him where everything came from, but then I spotted what he held in his hands.
“Tea?” I asked as Rabbit placed the silver tray, which held a teapot, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar, on the table. I walked closer and closed my eyes as I inhaled deeply. “Earl Grey,” I whispered, smelling my absolute favorite tea in the entire world.
“Only ever Earl Grey for my little Dolly,” Rabbit confirmed and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down, and Rabbit tucked me in. He took the seat a few places down and gestured to the food. “Help yourself. After all, this tea party is in your honor.”
A giddy laugh escaped my throat as I reached forward and carefully selected a variety of cakes and sandwiches. When I had filled my plate, I took the teapot and poured myself a cup. Rabbit watched me with a peculiar look on his face. His lip was hooked at the corner, and his eyes were . . . soft. His eyes were never soft, always hard and focused, but as he looked at me now, they were almost gentle.
I swallowed, unsure what this strange feeling in my stomach was. I pressed my free hand to my stomach as a comfort against the strange tingling sensations inside. “Tea?” I offered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Rabbit nodded; not a word escaped his mouth. His gaze became more intense as I moved beside him and poured the steaming liquid into his cup. As my arm neared him, I felt him stiffen in his seat. Only a sliver of air prevented our limbs touching. His breathing grew labored as he watched me pour.
But we didn’t touch.
Clearing my throat, I placed the teapot back on the tray and moved to take my seat once again. Just as I took a step, an image floated into my head. Of me and Rabbit. Lips touching. My entire body tensed.
I heard Rabbit’s ragged breathing behind me. Goosebumps broke out along my body, chasing one another up my arms and up to the back of my neck. Shaking my head clear of the image, I sat back down.
I raised my eyes and found Rabbit watching me intensely. I lifted my teacup toward my lips. Rabbit did the same, but just as the lip of the teacup almost reached his mouth, I shouted, “Rabbit!” He froze. “Your little finger!” I scolded. I lowered my cup and shook my head. “You cannot drink tea without raising your little finger, silly!”
Rabbit exhaled, then bowed his head. “You’re right, darlin’. How could I forget?”
His little finger lifted and, never taking his eyes from mine, he took a sip of his tea. He raised his eyebrow as he placed his cup back on the saucer. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I laughed some more, then took a sip of my own.
“Mmm.” I placed my tea back on my saucer. I ate a strawberry tart, and then said, “My first tea party in Wonderland, Rabbit. I have waited my whole life for this very moment!”
> “I know, darlin’.”
I ran my eyes along the spare chairs. “Will anyone else be joining us? The Mad Hatter? The Dormouse? Maybe even the March Hare?”
Rabbit sat back on his chair, gripping the cane that rested near his side. A curl of black hair fell lazily across his left eye, leaving only the inked spade visible. He made no effort to move it. “Wonderland ain’t all it seems, darlin’.”
I frowned. “It’s not?”
He shook his head. “Not everyone is . . . good.”
“I don’t understand.” I took another sip of my tea.
Rabbit leaned forward and looked me straight in the eye. He went to say something, but then he turned away. His pressed his lips together and turned back to me. “There was a reason I was sent for you.” Rabbit reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of playing cards. My eyes widened. He spun the pack in his hands. “Dolly darlin’,” he said. He placed the pack on the tabletop. My eyes snapped to his. Rabbit’s nostrils flared. “I . . .” His lips pursed, tongue running over his teeth. “I was sent for you because Wonderland is in trouble.”
My breath hitched. “It is?” I whispered, dread filling my heart.
He nodded slowly and leaned further forward. He paused, and I wondered why. Rabbit’s cheek twitched, and then he said, “Your friend . . . Ellis . . .” He stopped speaking. My heart stopped beating. The jam sandwich I was holding slipped from my hand, falling messily to my plate. He watched me closely. I said nothing. “She’s . . . lost,” he said, his voice hoarse. “She’s . . . in trouble . . . here in Wonderland.”
I looked down at my hand. It was shaking. My eyes closed, and a slice of pain dashed through my chest. Blackness engulfed me, blotting out the bright room, and I found myself back in the room of doors. I crouched in the corner, eyes shut, curled against the wall. Then I heard the soft voice from behind the bad door, the one I never wanted to open. “Help . . . me . . . Heathan . . . Help me . . .”
I gasped for breath as I opened my eyes. The room was blurred, and I felt tears run down my cheeks. “Ellis . . .” I whispered, “is trapped here? In Wonderland?”
Rabbit nodded, and the corners of his eyes tightened. A sob escaped my throat and my stomach turned. Rabbit inched his chair closer to mine. I held my breath for what he might say. “Dolly darlin’.” He paused and rubbed his lips together. “Ellis’s friend . . . Heathan?”
I stilled.
“He . . . he was the one that sent me to get you.”
“You know him?” I asked, shocked. And this Heathan knew me? How?
Rabbit nodded and sat back in his chair. He took another sip of his tea and picked up the pack of cards off the tabletop. He spun them in his hands again, and I stared, mesmerized, as the box danced between his fingers. “Heathan . . .” Rabbit said the name through clenched teeth, as if he couldn’t stand to say it. “He is . . . unavailable at this time. He asked me to help him.”
“You know him?” I asked again, still in shock.
Rabbit nodded once more. His face paled again, but before I had a chance to ask why, he said, “He wants his girl back. He wants his Ellis back.” Rabbit coughed. “He wants to free her. Free her from the bad place she’s been left in for too many years. From the bad men who captured her . . . the men who hurt her and caused her to fade away, trapped behind the locked door where you found her.”
“How?” I whispered. How could she ever be saved?
Rabbit tapped the cards on the table and opened the box. The cards fell to the table, all upside down. I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “There are only five cards,” I said.
“There were six once. One has been fulfilled.” I didn’t know what he meant. Rabbit ran his fingers over the red-backed cards. “Ellis needs a champion, darlin’. A brave warrior to find her and save her.” My heart began to race.
I shook my head. “I cannot . . . I do not know how to fight—”
“That is why Heathan sent me to you. I will teach you. I will come with you on your journey. I will guide you. I am the White Rabbit, after all.” Rabbit took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and ran his finger over the glass. “Heathan knew that Ellis knew you. He . . . he knew that she trusted you. You . . .” He breathed deeply. “He knew you were her friend.” He shook his head. “There is no one more worthy of bringing the men responsible for her pain to justice than you.”
I looked down at the abandoned cakes on my plate. At my once hot tea that had now gone cold. “And . . . and if we succeed in rescuing her . . .” I looked up. Silver eyes were watching. “Will Ellis be free? Will she be . . . okay again?”
Rabbit swallowed hard. “We hope so . . . We can always hope.” Rabbit ran his finger over the first card and flipped it over. On it was a picture of a man, drawn in pencil. “The Caterpillar.” Rabbit’s face fell, and anger consumed his silver eyes. “He’s first.” He turned over the second, third, fourth, the fifth card. “The Cheshire Cat, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the Jabberwock, and finally . . . the King of Hearts.”
“The King of Hearts? Not the Queen?”
“The Queen has already been taken care of,” he said quickly and sat back. He stared at me . . . waiting.
I closed my eyes. Immediately, I was in the room of doors, accompanied by the sound of Ellis crying. My chest clenched in sorrow as the echo of her cries seeped into my bones. A deep coldness took hold of me. My muscles tightened as Ellis’s cries grew louder and louder . . . Suddenly they disappeared, never to be heard again.
“I’ll do it.” I slowly opened my eyes. “But I don’t know how.”
Rabbit’s lip hooked up at one side. Not a smile, but the whisper of one to come. A promise.
He got to his feet, cane in hand. “Come with me.” He walked through a door at the end of the room. I followed, down a hallway and out through a back door. We crossed the yard to a building at the back. Rabbit opened the door, his ink-marked arms tensing as he held open the door for me. I walked through and was hit by a surge of freezing-cold air. I yelped and rubbed my arms, and then I felt Rabbit come up behind me. I shivered again, but this time it was prompted by Rabbit’s warm breath on the back of my bare neck. He was behind me, crowding me.
I wanted him there . . . yet I wanted him to keep far away.
My eyes closed as I waited for him to speak. It was several seconds before he said huskily, “To be a champion, my little Dolly, you must learn how to defeat the bad men.” He paused. “You must learn how to kill, darlin’. Kill and kill and kill.” I inhaled quickly through my nose at his words. “Blood, you see?” he carried on. His hand ghosted along my arm but remained always an inch away. As though he was practicing touching me, but not allowing himself to actually do it. “Blood . . . it is a fascinating thing. The way it smells when it’s fresh from the vein. How it spurts when you slice a spot of flesh just right.” He hissed through his teeth, his breath kicking up my hair. My eyes closed and my legs clenched together as a strange feeling settled within my stomach and the apex of my thighs. “It’s a sight like no other.” A step closer. His breath reaching my scalp. “To feel someone’s life drain from their body by your hands . . . bad, bad people who need to be plucked from this earth like the fleas they are . . . It is . . . a taste of the divine.”
My breathing was heavy; my chest was heaving. His words stirred a want . . . a need I’d never felt before within me. “You were born for this, little Dolly.” I sucked in a sharp breath as Rabbit pushed a blond curl off my shoulder. His body was so close I could hear his heart. It was racing. “You were born to stand by my side in Wonderland.” The force of his breath increased until I knew his mouth was a mere inch from my ear. “Born to kill, by my side.” He took two more deep breaths. “Come.” Rabbit walked around me and headed to the right.
I followed. His voice my master.
When I rounded the corner, I found him at a long table filled with . . . “Weapons,” he said when I stopped and stared. “Come,” he ordered again.
I followed once more.
I walked up to the table and saw knives and blades and guns. Rabbit leaned on his cane and picked up a large knife with his free hand. The blade was decorated with filigree patterns. My eyes widened at its beauty. “I had some things designed for you,” he said. “This is the first.” Rabbit held out the ivory handle of the knife, and I took it in my palm.
“It’s beautiful!” I felt a smile pull on my lips. I twisted the blade in the air and thought of Ellis. Thought of the bad men drawn on those cards in Rabbit’s pocket. Thought of what the bad men had done to my friend. What she had told me they had done to her every night since she had been a little girl. My stomach tightened as I thought of each man on the cards . . . as I envisioned blood falling down their faces, their chests, to pool on the floor.
It is a taste of the divine . . .
“I want this,” I whispered and glanced up at Rabbit. He ran his hand through his black hair and nodded slowly. I could see the triumph in his silver gaze.
You were born to kill at my side . . .
Rabbit reached for something else, something out of my line of sight. When he turned, in his hand I saw a flash of blue . . . the same shade of blue as my dress.
“Rabbit?” I stepped forward, placing my blade on the table, to better see what he was holding out. “Rabbit . . .” I said softly as I absorbed the sight of the gun in his hand. A blue gun, with writing on the side. I tried to read it. But I could only make out some of the letters and only one word. I ran the tip of my finger along the engraved words. “What does it say?”
“I had it made just for you.” Rabbit stepped closer. His voice had softened at my question. I wasn’t able to read or write much. Never had been.
I inhaled his scent and momentarily lost my breath. I looked up at Rabbit hovering over me. He was so tall. I stared into his silver eyes, swallowing when the strange feeling from before set in my stomach and thighs once more.
“It matches the blue of your dress,” he said in a low voice. I nodded in agreement. His fingers almost touched mine on the side of the gun, but when they were just a hairsbreadth away, he moved.