A Dream So Dark Read online

  “Here’s the deal.” Mom bent forward so she could meet Court’s gaze, then glanced back and forth between both girls as she spoke. “The instant you get to that hospital and find out how Chester is doing, call and let me know, and not from Courtney’s phone. Use the phone in his room, or the nurse station, or information booth, or security, or something, I don’t care. Then you can sit and visit for a little while. Just a little while.” Mom looked to Alice. “Your ass is in this house by three o’clock. Not three-oh-one.”

  “Yes ma—” Alice started, but fell silent when Mom lifted her hand again.

  “I’m not playing with either of you. This is it. Last damn chance. If you mess this up, you two won’t see each other outside of school until college.” She swung a manicured finger back and forth between the girls like the sword of Damocles. “I mean it. I love you, Courtney baby, but you will not be allowed in this house for the rest of the damn year.” The finger stopped at Alice. “And I’m putting bars on your window. Don’t. Test. Me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” both girls chimed together. Alice’s voice shook almost as much as she did.

  Mom tucked her hand into the crook of her elbow, arms folded again. “What time I say?”

  “Three o’clock,” Alice answered.

  Mom peered into the car. “What time I say?”

  “Three o’clock,” Court answered as she swiped at her flushed cheeks. Her whole face was bright red.

  Mom stepped back and gestured for Alice to get in the car, which she scurried to do. She was fastening her seat belt as Mom practically leaned in through the window to stick them both with a healthy dose of side-eye. “What time did I say?”

  “Three o’clock,” the girls said together.

  With a nod, Mom threw an arm over Alice to give her one of those awkward half hugs that she did her best to return. “Drive safe.”

  Court waited until Alice’s mother had backed up a few feet before pulling off. Neither girl seemed to breathe until they turned the corner, but Alice could feel her mother’s glare following them, like heat from Nana Kingston’s comb on the back of her neck. Court kept her eyes on the road, her grip on the wheel so tight the color had drained from her knuckles.

  “What all did Hatta say?” Alice asked, anxiety crawling through her. She fought to keep her breathing even, but it felt like her whole body had turned against her, still trembling as she sunk farther into the seat.

  “S-something happened with Chess a-and, um…” Court took quick, deep breaths and blinked rapidly. “And we needed to get back there right now.”

  “What kind of something happens with a … a—a dead … He’s dead…”

  “I know!” Court slammed her fist on the wheel. “That Duchess woman started screaming in Russian and Hatta hung up! I don’t—” She pursed her lips and stared ahead.

  Shit. Alice glanced around. “Where’s your phone?”

  Court pointed to the cubby under the center dash. Alice snatched the phone up, punched in the lock code, and hit the pub’s number.

  It went straight to voice mail and Alice’s body went tight. A wave of … of rage washed over her. How the hell you say some shit about someone’s dead friend, hang up, then don’t answer when they call back? Alice had to force herself to relax or she might crush Court’s phone like she did hers. She waited a bit, then hit redial. It rang this time. And kept ringing.

  Voice mail.

  She tried again, her knee bouncing.

  Voice mail.

  “Damn it!”

  On the fourth try, someone finally picked up.

  “Looking Glass.”

  Alice’s heart jumped at the sound of Hatta’s voice. There was an edge to it, an unease that plucked at the already frayed whispers of remaining strength barely holding her up. “Hey, it’s me. What’s going on?”

  For a moment the line went so quiet she thought the call had dropped. She even pulled the phone away to double-check. Then Hatta said the absolute last thing she could’ve expected.

  “Chess is gone. And he took Maddi with him.”

  Two

  HELLA

  “What do you mean gone?” Court jerked the car to the side, dodging around a slower truck as she shouted the same question Alice had asked Hatta a few minutes ago.

  “That’s what Addison said,” Alice murmured, her mind buzzing as it worked to fit information together. “That Chess got up and walked out into the middle of the pub.” She’d understood his words, but they didn’t make any sense.

  Court glanced back and forth between Alice and the road repeatedly. Each time she snapped her head around, the crease between her brows smoothed, until it vanished and her eyes went wide. “Wait … he’s alive?”

  The girls stared at each other, as much as Courtney could while trying to drive. Neither of them said a word. A swell of joy surfaced in the sea of Alice’s confusion. Her heart fluttered, filling her chest with this dizzying, fizzy sensation.

  “He’s alive,” Alice eventually repeated, for Court as much as for herself. “He’s alive!” A smile broke over her face, and a laugh followed. “He’s alive!”

  “Yes!” Court slapped the wheel. “Yeeeeeeeeeeesssss!”

  Alice screamed, which melted into sobs, and those bubbled over into laughter. She doubled over and shouted into her knees, her eyes stinging, her fingers pulling at her hair. Chess was alive.

  Court rubbed at her back, babbling something, Alice couldn’t hear her. Alice sat up, wiping at her face, then leaned over to wrap her arms around her best friend. Oh god. Chess was alive.

  Thank you! Thank you …

  Alice pulled back into her seat. She shook out her hands as pins and needles danced through her limbs. It felt like she’d been dunked in ice water then hung out to dry.

  “H-how?” Court squeaked.

  “I—I don’t know.” Alice closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the rest. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t possible. She’d watched him die. She’d felt him … felt when the last of him faded, and all that was left was his torn body still bleeding in her arms.

  “Maybe it’s some weird Wonderland shit,” Court offered.

  “Lot of that going around.” Magic was the first thing that came to Alice’s mind. Maybe he was under a spell, or possessed? That … massive Nightmare she fought last night had formed right on top of his body, swallowing it. Then, for a moment, the monster had had Chess’s eyes. Alice thought she might’ve imagined that part, but now? Now she wondered if maybe any of that had something to do with whatever was going on. And if that was the case, this might not be the blessing she thought it was.

  “But he’s gone,” Alice said. “And he took Maddi.”

  The smile melted from Courtney’s face. “Took her? Like kidnapped?”

  “According to Addison. He said he’d explain in person. Easier that way or something. But they’re both gone.”

  Silence descended. Uneasiness rose between them, devouring the joy they’d shared seconds ago. A headache wormed its way behind Alice’s eyes, and an ugly, black feeling filled her middle. The number of times Nightmares messed her up, Maddi had been there to make it better. Maddi was the one who got her back on her feet with her potions and salves. Maddi watched over her when she was lying in bed, beat all to shit. Alice didn’t understand what the Poet was saying half the time, but that didn’t matter. Maddi was her friend.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  * * *

  The pub door banged shut, and Alice froze at the top of the steps that led down into the bar.

  “Whoa,” Court murmured, voicing Alice’s own shock.

  Glass littered the floor in massive shards and glittering flecks. The splintered remains of a barstool and a couple chairs were strewn about. A table had been halved, one part tossed to the side, the other nowhere to be seen. Behind the bar, some of the shelves were cracked in half. Broken bottles and shattered sections of the mirror spilled onto the counter below. Pools of amber and clear liquid peppered th
e floor. Some of the paraphernalia had been ripped from the walls, leaving holes in the plaster in a few places. One of the TVs lay cracked and dark against the floor. The tangy smell of booze clung to everything.

  Two pairs of blue eyes looked up from where the Tweedles sat on the small step up into the area with the pool table. Blood smeared Dem’s left cheek, and he cradled that same arm, while Dee sported a freshly blacked eye, still mostly swollen shut. A matching set of bruises was already starting to purple against their pale skin.

  On any given day, Dimitri and Demarcus Tweedlanov were not to be fucked with. They were a well-oiled team of monster-killing murder machines, and they’d been Dreamwalkers years longer than Alice. Seeing them like this? Clearly on the receiving end of a beatdown? It shook something inside her. They were the strong ones. They were the steady ones. And right now? They looked less like defenders of the realm and more like two boys who’d gotten their asses handed to them on a playground.

  “Must’ve been a helluva fight,” Court murmured.

  “Who you telling?” Alice said.

  The Duchess knelt in front of them, a first aid kit opened near her feet. Her rope of red hair swept across her back as she leaned in to inspect Dee’s eye, murmuring something in Russian. Anastasia Petrova was also not to be fucked with. She trained the twins after all, same as Hatta trained Alice, and was usually a bit of a hard ass. But she spoke gently as she looked to their wounds. It was … interesting seeing her like this.

  Alice moved down the steps, picking her way through the mess and toward the three of them. “You guys all right?”

  “I’ve had worse.” Dem winced. His puffy jaw meant talking probably hurt.

  “Shhh,” the Duchess hissed before applying a salve to a cut Alice noticed as she got closer. He grunted in return but remained otherwise silent.

  “Your friend is good fighter, for a dead guy.” Dee looked less happy than his brother about the new scars they would no doubt be sporting, his brow furrowed despite it scrunching up his shiner.

  “About that,” Alice started.

  “Addison wanted to know when you arrived.” The Duchess didn’t glance away from her work on the twins. “He’s in his office.”

  Alice nodded, even though the woman wasn’t looking at her, and glanced at Court. “I’ll be back, with answers hopefully. Help where you can, yeah?”

  “I’ll be here.” Court moved toward the bar, setting her purple Brahmin on the counter. She still hadn’t put on any makeup today, and her face was bright red from the cold and the fight against tears.

  Alice headed for the hallway, glass crunching beneath her shoes. It was impossible to avoid all of it.

  Behind her the Duchess spat something in Russian followed by a low “Stop fidgeting.”

  “What can I do?” Court asked.

  Alice, already partway down the hall, couldn’t hear if any of them answered. As she walked, she wondered where Odabeth and Xelon were. She didn’t figure there was much the daughter of the White Queen, heir apparent to one of the dual thrones of Wonderland, and her Lady Knight could get into in midtown Atlanta. Then again, maybe royal beings from another realm liked to sightsee? She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, stopping outside the open door to Hatta’s office. She lifted a hand to knock against the frame, though paused as she took in the sight of him.

  Sitting behind his desk, Hatta bent forward so his elbows rested against his knees. His head bowed, he held his face in his hands, dark green strands of hair falling between his fingers. He looked so … broken? So not like his usual, sarcastic, charming, brighter self.

  In all this time Alice had known him, from meeting him the night her dad died, through his training her to fight Nightmares, then the two of them working together to protect the Western Gateway, she’d never seen him looking so defeated. Well, that wasn’t 100-percent true. She’d catch glimpses of him here and there, when he’d be in his office or behind the bar, and he’d get this far-away look on his face. Like he was someplace else. He used to stare in that fancy mirror of his with that expression. Before said mirror was discovered to be part of a shattered artifact of dark power and used to reforge that artifact, thanks to deception, a tiny bit of betrayal, and … yeah. Man, this past week had been a lot.

  Across from him, the locker in the far corner hung open, and inside it, suspended in the air, was the Vorpal Blade. Sheathed, the blade so black didn’t drink up the pale office light, but darkness thrummed along the length of it, waxing and waning just so, painting the air around it with a shiver of shadow. The weapon was supposed to be one of a kind, from Hatta’s days as the original Black Knight. The new Black Knight had one, too. Hatta’s was bigger. A bit scarier, too. There was a joke in there, somewhere.

  “Did it used to do that?” Alice asked.

  Hatta’s head snapped up and he spun toward her, banging his knees against the desk in the process. “Shhhhhhh … mmph.”

  She winced in sympathy. “Sorry.”

  “No worries.” Standing, Hatta closed and locked the cabinet doors. The key vanished into his pocket as he did a little sidestep Alice was sure was supposed to mask a wince—he was still wrapped in bandages and pretty banged up after the fight this morning—but it didn’t work. Coming around the desk, he tilted against the front of it and released a slow breath that was damn near a groan. “What were you saying, luv?”

  “The Vorpal Blade.” Alice pointed at the now closed locker. “Did it used to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “That whonm-whonm thing with the light.” She flexed her fingers in the air to emphasize her attempt at describing what she’d seen. “I mean, I know it sucks up light, but this was different. Like the dark part of it was having trouble staying on? I don’t know.”

  Hatta arched an eyebrow slightly, glanced at the locker, then back to her. “It’s not doing anything special.”

  Alice had only ever seen the Vorpal Blade, Hatta’s Vorpal Blade, a few times, but she’d definitely have remembered if it did whatever that was. She pulled her mouth to the side. “We still keeping secrets, then?”

  “About what?”

  She thrust her hand toward the closed locker. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t doing something funny, Addison. I know funny acting when I see it, and that sword was acting funny.”

  A shade of his usual smile pulled at his lips. “Do you, now? In any case, the Vorpal Blade isn’t behaving oddly at all. At least, not for how it should be behaving.”

  That’s how it is, then? Okay. Grunting, she wrapped her arms around herself. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Hatta looked her up and down with those multicolored eyes of his. It sent warm fuzzies through her. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t.”

  “I don’t what?”

  “You don’t say.”

  “What? No, never mind. What happened to Chess?” The fuzzies fizzled out, replaced by an ugly twisting somewhere near her center that warred with the excitement from before. Her friend was alive, even if he was … she wasn’t sure. “What you said on the phone didn’t make no kinda sense.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, milady.” Hatta’s tone was polite enough, but the way his eyes darkened, how the color fled to their very edges and the faintest spark of fire flickered to life at their center, told a completely different story. “Or why he took Madeline captive.”

  Alice’s throat worked at a lump forming at the back of it. “This has to be the Black Knight, right? I mean he stabbed Chess with that sword and it did something to him. Plus, he was d-d … in no condition to do nothing like this. Not on his own.”

  Hatta’s shoulders sagged, and a touch of the visible fury faded from his gaze. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Come. It’s better you hear the recounting firsthand.” He moved to step past her.

  Out in the bar, everyone was doing what they could to try and straighten things up. Dem held a trash can while Dee tossed in broken and empty bottles from the back of the bar. The Duchess ri
ghted tables and chairs that hadn’t been smashed, and Court swept twinkling shards into small piles along the floor. The four of them looked up and paused in their respective tasks.

  “Gentlemen.” Hatta moved to take the trash can from Dem. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet.”

  Dem snorted. “I keep telling you we’ve had worse.” He started to fold his arms over his chest but looked to think better of it when something popped, making him flinch. Instead, he pressed one hand to his side. “And we weren’t trying to hurt him.”

  “Uspokoysya.” Dee looked from his twin to Hatta. “We’re fine.”

  “Mmm. In that case, please bring Alice up to speed on what happened this morning.” Taking the trash can with him, Hatta moved behind the bar. He set it aside and started, of all things, to gather up glasses and bottles to mix drinks.

  The twins shared one of their creepy glances, then turned to her.

  The Duchess kept cleaning. Court had paused, eyes on the boys as well.

  “We had just gotten back from taking care of things at the field,” Dee started. “The place was a mess, but we did what we could.”

  New guilt wormed its way through her. Here they were cleaning up after her. Again. Today was definitely a Category Five on the You Done Messed Up chart. “I’ll go back and purge everything soon as I can.”

  “It should be fine for at least a few days,” Dem said.

  “We hope. There is no telling with Nightmares on this side of the Veil.” Dee looked to the Duchess, as did his brother.

  As if sensing their stares, she glanced up, but only briefly before returning to her task. “I would suggest within the next twenty-four hours. Let us not take any chances.”

  Alice nodded. It might take a bit of finagling with her mom to get it done, but she’d manage. She had to. “You were saying?”

  “We heard a shout.” Dee frowned, or tried to. It was more a grimace, thanks to the black eye. “Then footsteps. It’s your friend.”

  “Your dead friend,” Dem muttered. “Only not so dead anymore.”