Red and Her Wolf (19 page)

Her heart sped. Maybe she shouldn’t do this.

“Now sit,” he commanded.

His fur rippled and it was too hard to ignore the lure of it any longer. She sat, and the moment she did, he crawled in her lap. His big furry head rubbed along her chin. Sighing, she tickled him behind the ear and scratched under his belly.

“I’d forgotten how wonderful that feels,” he purred, and she smiled.

“You’re so soft. Like cashmere.”

In the distance, birds cawed.

Violet petted and petted, losing track of time, until shadows began to dance between trees. At first she thought it was nothing, but when she turned back to pet him, she caught a dash of black out of the corner of her eye.

“Cat,” she demanded, stilling instantly, “what is…”

The words died as the shadows took form. They were large, with big bellies, and covered in black and grey stripes. Black feathers adhered to their arms, and a long curved beak covered their nose and mouth.

“You’ve tricked me,” her voice broke.

“And this is my cue,”
Cheshire
said with a glint in his feral eyes, and then became nothing but a vapor. “Thanks for the rub down, Red,” his ghostly whisper mocked her.

Her eyes widened in horror as the beings moved in.

“Stay back,” she shot to her feet, “I can hurt you.”

The heads cocked in unison.

“Not if you can’t see us.” The voice came out a tinny echo behind the mask.

But she didn’t have a clue who’d spoken, and with the shock of seeing bird men advancing, came a complete lapse of reason. She stood frozen, a split moment of indecision that would cost her dearly.

“What?” Her pulse stuttered.

The bodies moved so fast they were little more than a blur. Finally, she remembered to move. She twirled on her feet, and started running back to the safety of her woods. “Ewan,” she cried.
“Help.”

A black hood slid over her face. She screamed, clawing to get it off.

“Now sleep,” the voice commanded and something tickled her nose.

She remembered no more.

Chapter 11

Ewan shot to his feet. He’d fallen asleep, he hadn’t meant to. But purging the crone’s soul from his body had seemed to drain his own life essence. He ran, pushing his limbs as hard as they’d go.
Which wasn’t hard, or fast enough.
Running on jellied legs, he tried to ignore the fiery burn pounding away at his skull. Body be damned, all that was important was finding her.

His heart clenched when he picked up her fear laden scent.

And that of the cat.

Howling, he followed. She was deep in the Hatter’s territory, but there were others with her.
Birds.

Black feathers were scatted all around. And for a moment he feared the worst.
Malvena’s
spies had somehow found her.

But there were so many feathers.
Too many.
Birds didn’t molt for no reason. Had there been a struggle and she’d pulled some out? But one glance at the dirt spoke volumes. Red had barely turned to run before whatever had found her caught her.

Not only that, he did not smell
Malvena
anywhere. There was no stench of death, or waste of birds.

But that didn’t mean she was safe. Something had taken her.

Dizzy with fear, he prayed he’d make it to her in time. Why hadn’t he followed her? He should have followed her. She didn’t know this land. He did, he knew how treacherous--this place most of all--could be.

Feathers were scattered everywhere, dropping off like someone had overturned a bucketful of them. Not only that, the kidnappers weren’t taking her north toward
Malvena’s
keep, they were heading in the direction of the Mad Hatter’s garden.

It took a moment for the realization to dawn on him that even the trees did not attack. They sat, like great big giant bulwarks; almost appearing to be as benign as he knew they were not. No roots came up out of the ground to trip him, no branches made a grab for him. Even sappy maws remained closed.

This was not right. The land was only silent like this when…

His ears twitched when the crunching sound of a snapping twig reverberated through the desolate woods.

“Hello, Ewan,” the sweet voice almost seemed to smile. “The girl is with us. Come quickly.”

Turning, he saw
Alice
.

She wore a black silk dress that draped to her feet, the bodice tight on her waist; clusters of roses wove a trail from her chest down the left side of her body. Black paint, in a filigree pattern, framed her right eye. Flushed and rosy, she looked healthy and happy.

Alice
gestured quickly. “Hurry, we spotted crows this morning.”

Heart regaining its more normal rhythm, he nodded, and trotted toward her. She patted his nose when he neared, kneeling by his side, she grabbed his shaggy head and brought his ear to her mouth.
 

“Spies have been about these past two nights…”

As she spoke, she continued to stroke the length of his side. To the outside, it would appear like a woman petting her dog. Questions buzzed through his head. Why the subterfuge? How had the crows known? Where exactly was Red?

“Please accept our apologies for taking Violet the way we did. We meant no harm.” Planting a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, she nodded. “Follow me, and try not to look so… wolf like.”

Her pink lips twitched and he huffed.

Alice
led him on a dizzying trail. She walked around trees, below trees, and even through them. Waving her hand in semi-circular motions as she mumbled nonsensical words, it was amazing to witness the land respond to her as it did.

He growled when he noticed the same purple polka dotted tree for the third time. Were they actually going anywhere?

She winked, waved her hand again, and then dropped to her knees. In a clearing lay a teapot, hidden by thick grass. Lifting the lid, she whispered inside the ceramic pot, “the cake please.”

Suddenly a large slice of cake slid through the narrow opening. With a triumphant smile, she twirled and held out the slice to him. The cake itself was a deep yellow, while the frosting was the whitest, frothiest foam he’d ever seen.

After the crone’s forest, the sight of it turned his stomach a little. He couldn’t help but remember what her cakes had been made out of.

Brown eyes twinkling, she said, “Take a bite.
A small one.
Too much will make you cease to appear.”

He’d only met
Alice
once before, she’d been beautiful, of course. But shy and withdrawn, he wondered if she realized how like the Hatter she seemed now. Speaking in his nonsensical way, dressing like him.

Would Violet be like that with him someday?

Careful not to take too large a bite, he barely tore a piece off the cake and instantly wanted to spit the bitter thing out. She held his jaw closed, and nodded.

“It’s worse than awful, but it’s the only way. Have you swallowed it?”

The offensive piece of carrion tasting waste rested on his tongue, and it was all he could do to choke it down, gagging and panting once it settled in his gut.

“Good.” She tore a piece off for herself.
“
Upsy
daisy now.”
She popped it in and grimaced. “Ugh, that’s awful.”

A wave of vertigo slammed into him and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut as the world around them became a giant’s paradise. Ewan growled.

“I know
,
it’s dreadful being so small. But it will only last for a while.”

He looked back at the garden. It was lit, tables out and festooned with every sort of tea food imaginable.

Alice
shook her head, her black hair fanning out like a blade behind thin shoulders. “No tea this time, Ewan. You’re coming to our home. It’s safer.” She eyed him. “You will need to
unbecome
. I’ll not be taking you through the world’s my Hatter took me through when I first arrived, but the trip can be rather jarring. You’ll need to hang on to my hand.”

Calling the light, it took only moments for him to stand before her, and then to frown when her lips quirked and she quickly glanced away.

Alice
cleared her throat. “I always forget it’s not like the movies.”

He glanced down at himself.

Smiling, she said, “As lovely as you look, you really should get dressed. I don’t think Hatter would like it too much if you weren’t clothed. He tends to go a little batty about those sorts of things when I’m around.”

Ewan rolled his eyes.
“Lass, I
canna
make clothes from air.”

She looked at him, and lifted her brows. “Well lucky for you, I can.”
 
Snapping her fingers, he was suddenly clothed in tight jeans and a plain white shirt.

Alice
laughed. “Hmm…
Maybe not much better.”

“I’m clothed, am I no? What’s wrong now?” he tried, but couldn’t get the irritation from his voice.

“Absolutely nothing.
Now take my hand.” She reached for him.

The moment their hands interlocked, she stepped through the tilted tea pot and a wave of vertigo slammed into him, making him lose his bearings. Everything was pitch black, and save for the tiny hand in his, he felt anchorless. An overwhelming desire to flail and find some sort of footing overcame him, but he clamped down on it, knowing this blackness to be merely illusion; though the knowledge didn’t keep the sweat from beading on his forehead.

“I know this is kind of freaky.
Just a little bit longer.”

Her soft voice helped to calm the animal’s natural instinct in him. He was not alone in this nothingness.

“Where’s Red?” He finally asked.

“With Hatter.”

He snarled and a small fist punched his arm.

“
Not that Violet’s not beautiful,
but he’s got me, Ewan. She’s perfectly safe.”

“So long as it’s understood she belongs to me and me alone.”

“Yes, yes,” her voice was mollifying, “she’s all yours. But just so you know, the caveman act really doesn’t work for girls anymore.
Just
sayin
’.”

“Caveman?”

He was unprepared for the jarring transition from darkness to light and blinked back tears as a bright shaft of sunlight suddenly pierced his eyes, momentarily blinding him. A meadow spread out for miles in every direction. A placid pond sat next to a small thatched roof cottage. Dropping his hand,
Alice
gathered her skirts and started jogging toward the home. He kept pace beside her.

“It all looks so normal,” he muttered. “I expected madness.”