My brows gathered. But then her finger was there, smoothing out the worry creasing them.
“I would never see you frown, Hatter. It pains me.”
Blinking back heat from my eyes, I snatched her fingers into mine and kissed her knuckles tenderly. I couldn’t understand my instant bond to her, but this was right. The pain that’d torn me up inside was now gone. And for the first time, I could take a breath free of pain.
I’d never experienced this before in my life, but being with this Alice made me feel whole.
I didn’t think. Simply reacted. Leaning down, I went to kiss her. To mark myself upon her somehow, but then I was ripped free of the image. Yanked out of the body holding hers, and though I roared at the loss of her, though I tried to scrabble my way back into her arms, my fight was in vain.
Images rolled past my mind’s eye again. And all around I drowned in the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. Chest aching from the loss of her, I tried to reach into one memory after another, tried to anchor myself into the scene as I had before, but my fingers sifted through Alice’s lovely frame like ghosts drifting on the breeze.
I wasn’t sure how long I traipsed through Danika’s memories of us. Maybe an eternity. Maybe no time at all.
But as I watched, as I moved through that alternate life, I began to warm up. Began to remember what would happen before the memory showed me what actually did.
And it wasn’t that I was remembering Alice, not in the sense that I remembered the one here in this time with me, but some part of me knew that other Alice.
The part that’d somehow bound and tethered myself to her in that time. I wasn’t sure how this was even possible. How my soul could yearn for something it’d never known in this life, and yet it did.
I now understood the stories of Hatter and his Alice.
But the couple in the vision, it was hard to believe that really could have been me. I’d been mad. Reciting poetry late into the night, with her wearing nothing but a smile for me.
Our love was so intense, so volatile, that the world around us had transformed because of it. And as I watched, I began to learn her. She loved baking. On Earth and even in Wonderland, she’d been renowned for her cupcakes.
But there’d been so much more to Alice than that.
She loved her gardens.
Loved to dance and sing for me. She had a beautiful voice too. Angelic. Sylphlike. Haunting and ethereal, like the woman herself. And she’d had her own magic. She’d weave the most magnificent gowns that seemed to have a life of their own the way they moved upon her and in the breeze. Like rolling waves of water and flame. Sparkling and alive.
I smiled as I watched her run through the haunted woods at night, leaving behind a trail of golden light as Wonderland came alive beneath her feet. Terrifying monsters bowed down to her.
Anything Alice came in contact with had no choice but to love her, marvel at the sight of her. With her exotic scrollwork makeup that moved upon her skin like worshipping serpents only helping to add intrigue and appeal to a woman who already exuded it from her every pore.
My heart beat so furiously I grabbed at my chest, falling in love with the creature in this life just as I had apparently in the other.
Images rushed through me of our long and happy life together.
I froze at the sight of a cherubic face that bore her eyes and my sly smile. A daughter.
We’d had a daughter.
Wonder stole my breath as that gorgeous, tiny little creature tossed herself into my arms, and suddenly Wonderland bloomed for her just as it had for her mother.
A daughter. I clenched my fists, aching for the sudden loss of her.
But soon our daughter vanished, and it was just Alice and me again, sitting at a table loaded with teas and cakes and friends and family. Most faces I didn’t know in this life, but they seemed as familiar to me as breathing in that one.
Making love beneath the stars. In a wall of water. In a garden bursting with flowers. Any and everywhere, marking our love through every part of Wonderland.
And finally... dancing beneath the starlight in a field of verdant poppies bursting with every color of the rainbow all around us.
I love you.
Her whispered words echoed through and around me.
And I watched as the man in her arms, the man who looked remarkably like me but who wasn’t me, bent forward and claimed her lips.
And I you. Always, my Alice. Always and forever...
Ripped from the memories, I was once again back in my cabin in Wonderland, staring not at Alice but into Danika’s bright blue eyes, and jealousy burned through my heart at the man who’d once had her. Even if it’d been me, it wasn’t me now.
I’d never known her touch.
Her love.
Her smiles or wonder.
Envy choked me, and tears ran unchecked down my tears.
“Now you know,” Danika said softly.
Swallowing hard, I couldn’t breathe properly. That terrible ache that’d abated when her memory had been with me was back now, choking me. Suffocating. Drowning me.
Galeta cleared her throat. “What would you do to get her back, Hatter?”
The words came from deep inside me. “Anything. I would do anything to make her mine again.”
My words were broken, my voice scratchy. But I meant it. Every word.
Galeta nodded. “And if I told you you’d have to go into hell?”
“I would do it.”
She smiled. “Good. Because that’s exactly where you’re going. The underworld. And Hades...” She sighed. “He isn’t the easiest to deal with right now. But if you want her back, Hatter, then there is no other way.”
“I don’t care. Kill me. Send me to her. Do whatever you need to do. Only give me a chance. What do I do?”
Galeta’s lashes fluttered as she gave a strangled cry. “Pray with all your might and heart that Aphrodite can get that dour man to let you in.”
“I’d storm the gates for her, Galeta. I can’t wait around another second. I have to get her back.”
Her lips thinned. “We’ve done what we could. And the only thing left to do now is hope that Aphrodite will bring us good news. But I can say this, Hatter. When I came here, I was certain there was less than a one percent chance of success.”
“And now?”
“Maybe two,” Danika said softly, her voice not as strong as it’d been earlier. Releasing my hands, she scooted back on her heels, sinking back down into the couch moments later and shaking her head. “But two is better than the nothing we had before. And if you can do this—”
Galeta nodded. “Then maybe we can fix them all.”
Chapter 6
Aphrodite
Asking forgiveness later was much better than asking for permission to begin with. At least that’s what I told myself as I forced my way through the locked gates of the underworld.
Bones secured together by thick bands of ice—a deterrent to most anyone, except a determined goddess hell-bent on fixing the happily-ever-after of her two best friends in all the worlds. With an angry flick of my fingers, I sprayed a neon-red band of my power at the ice, melting it instantly and causing the bones to drop with a plink to the hard ground beneath.
At the breach, Cerberus lifted two of his three heads and stared unerringly in my direction. I stilled; not even the gods liked Hades’s “pet.”
Once, Cerberus had loved me. I’d had no need to fear the mangy mongrel then. But that’d been another time and another life. He growled low, hackles rising, exposing his long and wickedly sharp canines.
I thinned my lips. Nothing was as it should be anymore. Even my beloved Hephaestus seemed cold and distant. He’d not forgotten me as Hades had Caly, but the pantheon wasn’t what it’d once been either. A giant part of that was the downfall of both Hades and Caly. I’m sure my bestie would have cackled to know just how important she’d become to us all.
Once, I’d thought my life had been perfect. And th
en I’d met Caly and finally gotten to know Hades, and it’d been that day I realized what it truly meant to love something. I’d always admired Hephaestus, but only after witnessing the love blossom between death and life had I learned how to love my own mate the way he’d needed me to. I was lost without my Hephy, but he no longer knew me, not as he once had. To him I was still a spoiled, rotten goddess consumed with lust, love, and all things beautiful.
I sighed sadly.
Holding up a hand, I rocked back on my heels, staring down the hellhound with a confidence I did not feel.
The dog heads slobbered, continuing to growl low in the back of his throats. He could not kill me, but he could hurt me. If I wasn’t so bloody determined to fix Hades and Caly, I would never have dared to intrude upon the Lord of the Underworld’s domain without an invitation first. I never had before he and Calypso had become a permanent fixture in my life.
“Cere, c’mon,” I wheedled. “You know me. Or you did once. I was your friend. Great mates, you and I. Don’t you remember?”
The massive beast with a shaggy coat of coarse ebony hair and burning red eyes tipped its centermost head, staring at me as though uncertain whether I was friend or foe. But the other two heads weren’t nearly as conflicted. The fetid stench of his breath punched me full force in the face. I curled my nose in disgust.
I never liked using my powers against those I considered my friend. Because I wanted them to love me for who I really was, not because of some magical compulsion to obey.
But Cerberus’s hackles were beginning to rise, and I was a little nervous at the moment. I might not die, but I could feel pain. Bringing my hand to my lips, I blew him a kiss. Floating, sparkling bits of glittering red lips shot straight through his nostrils, going deep into his lungs as he inhaled.
Instantly the beast stilled, one of his heads began to whine and whimper, and his powerful tail thudded roughly against the lava-rock hardness of the ground beneath him.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I scooted past him and took a moment to nod at the floating spirits who’d drawn close during the commotion to gaze upon me.
Many gasped, awed by the sight of a goddess among them.
My name echoed through the night, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Hades discovered me in his lands. Again.
Once, this would have been no problem. I’d known his palace as well as my own. I’d been a vaunted guest. Family in every sense of the word.
I remembered the parties Caly and I had thrown with some regularity.
The masquerade balls we’d put on for the newly arrived spirits. She’d been so beloved by them all. As had he.
But the world that’d once burst with beautiful magic was now cold and depressing. The trees that’d once been adorned with thousands upon thousands of jeweled leaves were now skeletal and barren.
The darkened sky that’d shone with the light of millions of silvery stars was now covered with thick bands of tight, black clouds. The winds howled, and fat flakes of snow drove through the sky.
The palace that’d once shone brighter than a full moon was now dank, gray, and foreboding. It hurt me deeply to see that, but I had hope it would not always remain so.
Somehow I’d make Caly and Hades remember each other. I would awaken their love. Because if I couldn’t, then no one else could.
Setting my jaw, I lifted my gown of sunlight and raced up the long flight of stairs leading to the palace landing.
I could have simply popped myself into existence right in the dark lord’s throne room, but I didn’t. Because I’d wanted him to know I came in peace. That I was here not as a goddess demanding her due but as a friend.
But as I stood before the iron-dipped bone gates that led into the palace, I wondered whether I’d made the wrong choice.
These gates would never have been closed to me before.
I knew Hades was aware of my presence. The breeze itself whispered of it.
Clenching my jaw, I said, “Please, Hades. Open to me. Do not do this again.”
For the past week, I’d come each and every day to this gate. And each and every day he’d kept them sealed to me. Me, and everyone else.
Once Hades had moved freely among his dead.
Loving them as a father, and they loving him right back. But I witnessed none of that warmth anymore. The dead were no more welcome here than I was.
I’d hoped that by showing him I would not force myself into his home, he’d see that I wasn’t what the rest of the pantheon was. Hoped that maybe he’d become curious, that his anger or coldness or whatever this was would abate just enough for him to try to figure out why I continued to come day after day, night after night.
“Please, Hades. If you would only hear me out. If you would only—”
A loud groaning split the night, and then the gate began to slowly rise before me.
I yelped, shocked that my plan had finally worked. That he was finally letting me in.
The palace was dark. No flames were lit within. But every square inch was permanently etched into my brain. I knew the walkways, the halls, the rooms.
Moving toward his throne room was simple enough. But studying the décor, I found the differences startlingly obvious too.
Calypso had had a hand in nearly every room, transforming Hades’s dark domain into something tropical and cheerful, a beautiful mix of vivid shades the color of a coral reef teeming with life.
Even the walls themselves had been transformed into thick glass that’d revealed the beautiful undulations of colorful fish swimming to and fro within. Sea kelp and massively giant pearls had adorned the exposed timber beams above my head.
The palace had been fit for the queen of the sea.
Now... there were skull chandeliers and sconces, creamy white and macabre as they stared back at me with hollow, empty sockets that burned with the buttery glow of candlelight.
Chain mail armor hung upon skeletal remains. The heads of beasts too were mounted upon the walls, their visage twisted and snarling. A Minotaur stared at me with its sightless eyes, its black fur looking matted with an age-darkened stain of blood and gore.
Goblins. Satyrs with long curving horns. Even the heads of lovely but deadly water sirens had their heads fixed on pikes.
I remembered the alternate world because Galeta had shared those memories with me, helping me unlock the visions of who Hades had once been.
And what I remembered of the man before Calypso had found him nude and bound before the pantheon of his peers wasn’t this at all. He’d been aloof, but not frightening. Not cold or terrifying. He’d simply kept to himself because he’d always been so very different from the rest of us.
I hated to admit that once upon a time I’d been anything less than I am now. But I had been. I’d been petty. Interested only in what benefitted me. Calypso had changed me for the better too.
Though she had the temper of an angry shrew at the best of times and the mercurial moods of the seas she called home, Calypso had brought out the very best in those she’d decided to love.
I missed her dearly, and seeing Hades’s palace now—though he had likely forgotten her—I knew that he, too, suffered from the loss of her.
Clenching my fingers, I tried to focus on something other than my dark thoughts, allowing muscle memory to guide me straight to his throne room.
And there he was, just as I’d known he would be.
Big.
Brawny.
Beautiful.
Hades wore no shirt, his dark skin covered in gooseflesh from the constant howling winds batting against him. On his lap rested the gleaming sword of Damocles.
The symbolism did not escape me, and my heart shook at the tortures he must be enduring, the emptiness he no doubt felt but had no way to understand.
Long black hair that badly needed a trim covered his eyes. Heavily hooded, dark eyes gazed down upon me.
He was an awe-inspiring figure sitting upon his throne of thorns and blood-dipped bones. Dead
and dying flowers crawled up the black walls behind him. It’d been some time now since Persephone had visited last.
In this life, just as in the other, Hades and she weren’t even remotely friendly. But without the loving hand of a female goddess beside Hades, the underworld truly suffered. As did the man himself.
“What do you want, Love?” He demanded, voice booming richly to the rafters.
From the corner of my eye, I caught the slithering movement of coils crawling between withering vines of ivy. Wetting my lips, I smothered my revulsion at all the death surrounding me.
“Five days you come. Now you’re here, and you say nothing.” He snarled, then lifted his hand and pointed a finger at the door behind me. “Go then! I’ve no time for—”
Gnashing my front teeth, I plastered on a tight smile. I’d not let him intimidate me. I was a god too.
Squaring my shoulders, I looked directly at him. “I have a request for you, my old fr—” Old habits die hard, and I gave myself a slight shake, clearing my throat as a reminder that this man was not my old friend. “Hades. My Hades.”
He frowned, thick brows furrowing deeply as he stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“A request?” He scoffed. “And what makes you think I’d be inclined to honor any request from you vermin in the above?”
Increasing the strength of the light that my gown was built of to hide my actions from his prying eyes, I clenched my fists so tight that my nails pierced the palms. I had to get my temper under control.
None of this was his fault.
He did not remember.
He did not know me.
But he would.
I vowed it by all that was holy and honorable. He would. It wasn’t easy being patient. Patience had never been my forte. It’d been Calypso’s, ironically enough. Still waters ran deep, and hers had run deepest of all.
I just had to keep reminding myself that Hades had finally let me in, and small step though it was, progress had been made.
Then something Hades had said finally snared my thoughts. He’d called Olympus the above.
Only a water dweller referred to the worlds as two distinct strata. The above. And the below. Always Hades had called Olympus, Olympus. Until he’d wedded Calypso.