Unhinged

  I grin, and he beams with pride.

  “So what kind of hat is that?” I ask, unable to resist. He’s adorable when he’s showing off his wardrobe—like a puppy doing tricks. Although I remain cautious, knowing in the blink of an eye he can become a wolf again.

  “My Peregrination Cap,” he answers.

  “Huh?”

  His smile widens—baring white teeth. “Peregrination. An excursion … a journey.”

  “So, why don’t you just call it your traveling cap?”

  “Then it wouldn’t be much of a conversation starter, would it?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Um, the fact that it’s made of living moths might give you something to talk about.”

  Morpheus laughs. For once our relationship feels comfortable, friendly. So unlike his usual flirting and threats.

  “About the train,” I say, breaking the genuinely nice moment.

  He opens his mouth to answer, but a moan interrupts him. Jeb is rousing. Morpheus starts to get up to check on him.

  “Wait.” I grab his tie. Even through his shirt, I feel the strong curve of his collarbone beneath my fingers. It takes me back to how he looked in my bedroom: shirtless and perfect—wings spread high like those of some sort of celestial being—elegant power and pulsing light. Unabashed, unashamed, and confident. All the things that I crave to be.

  My pulse beats rapidly against the bite on my neck. “There’s something I want you to do, before Jeb wakes enough to know what’s going on.”

  Morpheus kneels again. “What? You want I should kiss your ouchies?” The dark purr of his voice is more teasing than seductive.

  I roll my eyes. “I want you to heal me.”

  He scowls, all playfulness gone. “Oh, no. No. Jebediah will face what he did to you.”

  “He would never have attacked me like that if he hadn’t been under the influence of the juice. Why would you want to rub his nose in it?” I make a frustrated noise. “You were the one forcing me to keep him oblivious about everything. What’s changed?”

  “You need to acknowledge the dangers of him dabbling in a world beyond his ken. The Tumtum juice made you voracious, but it made him murderous. He’s a liability. If you involve him in this war, he will be your downfall. This I guarantee.”

  My mouth gapes open. I can’t believe I was pouring out my heart to him just moments ago. “No. You want Jeb to doubt himself. You want him to believe he’s turning into his father. You’re going to manipulate him, because that’s what you do. You use people’s weaknesses against them.”

  He studies me, long black lashes unblinking in silent affirmation.

  “Well, I won’t let it happen,” I say. “Now heal me.”

  Morpheus snarls and tries to pull away, but I refuse to let go of his tie.

  He raises his wings, casting giant blue shadows over us. If he uses them, he can break free and refuse to do as I ask. Then again, I might do better in a battle of wills now that my powers are getting stronger. A tendril of excitement unfurls inside my chest, just considering it.

  We stare each other down. To my surprise, he relaxes his wings.

  “What is it worth to you?” he asks.

  I release his tie and frown. It’s a trick question.

  “Jebediah’s peace of mind,” he reiterates. “What’s it worth?”

  “Everything,” I say, knowing it’s a mistake the second I admit it.

  With a thoughtful frown, Morpheus sits back, legs crossed, and places his hat in his lap, coaxing the moths that form it to separate and flutter in place atop his thighs. After removing a glove, he raises his hand, and strands of blue light drizzle from his fingertips, connecting to the insects. He wiggles his fingers, and, guided by their magical harnesses, the moths fly in a circle like a miniature carousel.

  His expression becomes dreamy, glowing blue from the light. “One day and one night,” he says without looking up, preoccupied with his toy.

  I swallow. “What?”

  “That’s the price.” He still doesn't look my way. The magic from his fingers accelerates, and the moths follow suit. “If I help you protect your trophy boy’s frail psyche, you give me one day and one night as soon as this battle with Red is behind us. Twenty-four hours with me in Wonderland.”

  I study him. He can’t be serious.

  As if spurred by my silence, he withdraws his magic, and the moths flock together, reuniting into the hat. He puts it on, and his gaze locks to mine. His jewels flicker between passion and defiance—an evocative and intimidating combination. “Fair warning, I intend to make good use of that time. I will be gentle, but I will not be a gentleman. You will be the center of my world. I’ll show you the wonders of Wonderland, and when you’re drunk on the beauty and chaos that your heart so yearns to know, I will take you under my wings and make you forget the human realm ever existed. You’ll never want to leave Wonderland or me again.”

  The thrum starts at the back of my skull, a resurrection of my netherling side, almost as powerful as what I felt at the gym while standing in the flames. But my human side nudges me—a warning. Morpheus is the most magical and captivating creature I’ve ever known. And, other than in dreams, I’ve never spent more than a few hours alone with him at a time. How could I resist the darkness he summons inside me for an entire day and night?

  I glance under his left wing to check on Jeb. His feet twitch, and he rolls to his stomach, mumbling. He’ll be fully conscious within minutes.

  Morpheus’s gaze falls to the handprints on my neck. “Give me an answer or I wake your boyfriend and let him bask in his newest masterpiece.”

  “Okay,” I murmur. I might never make it through a battle with Red in the first place, so the day with Morpheus might not ever happen. Who knows if I’m the final queen left standing in the mosaics? Maybe I’m the one whose torso is covered in web, or the one who’s swallowed by some unnamable monstrosity.

  It’s something I have to consider. If I don’t survive, I don’t want Jeb to be tormented by the thought that he hurt me, that he inherited his father’s violence in any way. That’s one gift I can give him.

  “Vow it,” Morpheus says. “And make the words count.”

  Cheeks hot, I hold my palm over my heart. “I vow on my life-magic to give you one day and one night, the moment we defeat Red.”

  “Done.” Expression unchanging, Morpheus removes his remaining glove.

  When he starts to peel off his jacket, I get up on my knees and shove at his lapels, hurrying him. Together we drag the sleeves down his shoulders. Despite my efforts to be businesslike, I find myself overcome by the intimacy of undressing him with Jeb lying unconscious on the floor. If he were to wake and see this …

  Two slits open in the back of the blazer to release Morpheus’s wings. One of them grazes my hand, causing my own wing buds to tingle behind my shoulder blades. I fidget. He watches my reaction intently. My stomach knots as I take his wrist and unbutton his shirt cuff, pushing the sleeve to his elbow to reveal the birthmark on his forearm. His skin is soft and warm.

  I release his arm and untie my boot to expose the netherling mark on my ankle.

  Morpheus rocks back on his heels and studies me. “Of all the times you’ve undressed me in my fantasies, I never remember feeling this … unfulfilled.”

  “Please, Morpheus,” I beg upon hearing Jeb stir in the background.

  “Ah, but those delectable words,” Morpheus says with a provocative smirk, “those are always in the fantasy.”

  I glare at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “And that sentiment is reserved for the end.”

  “Shut. Up.” I drag his forearm over to match it to my birthmark.

  He pulls free before we make contact. “A moment, please. Allow me to bask in your devotion.” He’s referring to my ankle tattoo.

  I blush. “I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s only a set of wings.”

  “Nonsense.” Morpheus grins. “I know a moth when I see one.”

&
nbsp; I groan in frustration, and he surrenders, letting me press our markings together. A spark rushes between them, expanding to a firestorm through my veins. His gaze locks on mine, and the bottomless depths flicker—like black clouds alive with lightning. For that instant, I’m bared to the bone. He looks inside my heart; I look inside his. And the similarities there terrify me.

  I avert my eyes, breaking our mental connection. My neck stops throbbing, my throat soothes, and my limbs feel languid. I relax against the wall.

  Morpheus’s pale skin flushes, and he lifts his arm off my ankle. There’s something new behind his eyes—resolution—and I know I’ve just signed my soul away.

  Crouched beside me, he weaves his fingers through my hair on either side of my face, his expression changing to reverence. “You were magnificent today, little blossom. My one regret is the same as yours. That we didn’t share a dance in the flames.”

  I gasp. He was at school this morning, luring me into the fire, daring me to give over to the darkness. Before I can react, Chessie flies between us in the same instant Morpheus is jerked away.

  “Get off of her!” Jeb flings him across the room, surprisingly strong for someone who was unconscious seconds ago. Morpheus hits the floor and rolls, wings acting as a cushion. His hat slaps the wall, dispersing into the moths once more. Some fly up to the skylights, others toward the closet, and the remainder flutter to the loft.

  Jeb staggers, struggling with his balance. In wide-eyed wonder, he watches Chessie buzz along the ceiling with the moths. “That’s no costume.”

  “Bloody genius observation.” Morpheus stands and shakes out his wings.

  “What … is … that thing?” Jeb asks, staring at Morpheus now.

  “You don’t remember?” I respond. I motion to the paintings around us. Jeb turns on his heel to take them in, then pales. “Agh!” He grabs his temples, crumpling to a fetal position on the floor.

  Horrified, I kneel down, dragging his head into my lap. He wails.

  “Jeb, open your eyes, please.”

  He grips his temples with white-knuckled hands—face scrunched up in pain.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I shout to Morpheus.

  Morpheus brushes himself off leisurely, as if Jeb’s screaming were a trivial inconvenience. “Those weren’t his memories he painted. They were yours, held within your blood. Some residual blood on the paintbrushes must have gotten mixed in with the regular paint.”

  Jeb moans and curls into a ball. He convulses—his chest and arm muscles contracting.

  My body twitches and aches in sympathy. It’s like barbed wire wraps my joints and tendons, tightening with Jeb’s movements. “What’s happening to him?” I whimper.

  Morpheus looks up at the moths bumping against the ceiling’s glass panes, unconcerned. He squints in the sunlight. “Seeing your memories has made his subconscious aware that there are holes in his own. It must be an excruciating sensation, having Swiss cheese for your brain. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to remedy my hat.”

  I struggle to contain the rage rising in me. “Who cares about your stupid hat! For once think of someone besides yourself!”

  My outburst catches Morpheus’s attention. He looks at me curiously, almost detached.

  “Help Jeb. For me,” I urge, feeling only a sliver of guilt for exploiting his affections. After all, he’s the one who taught me how to use people’s weaknesses.

  There’s a crack in his veneer of indifference. He strides over, kneels down, and cups his palms around Jeb’s temples. Blue light pulses through Jeb from his head to his bare feet, and he relaxes.

  Clearing his throat, Morpheus stands and walks away. “I made him sleep. His dreams will keep him out of pain for now. But the only way to save him from madness is to reunite him with his lost memories. That means a train ride. And I am not getting on any train without my Peregrination Cap.”

  With Chessie’s help, he coaxes the frightened moths down from the skylights, rebuilding his hat piece by piece. Enough insects are still missing to leave noticeable gaps. He and Chessie head toward the bathroom to search for more.

  I clench my fists until my nails leave imprints on my skin, fighting the urge to yell at him for his vanity, but it won’t do any good. Morpheus is Morpheus. At least he made Jeb comfortable.

  I push back a lock of dark hair hanging over Jeb’s eyes, then lean down and kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything. I’ll never keep the truth from you again.”

  I make the promise even though it means I’ll have to tell him about the deal I made with Morpheus, and what precipitated it. Jeb will end up knowing that he attacked me, so I made the deal for nothing. But I can’t lie to him anymore.

  I stretch out my leg and catch Jeb’s discarded shirt with my heel. After dragging it over, I fluff it into a cushion. He mumbles my name subconsciously as I ease his head onto the makeshift pillow. I cover him up to his shoulders with a drop cloth to keep him warm.

  “We’re going to fix you,” I say, stroking his hair.

  I stand and retie my bootlaces, impatience building in my blood. Jeb needs his memories, and I still have to decipher the final mosaic so I can face Red. The first point of business is to find a mirror big enough to climb through.

  But Morpheus is too stubborn to leave without his hat. While he’s busy sifting through drawers in the bathroom, I head to the ladder. I saw at least two or three moths fly up to the loft.

  Two moths flitter in and out of the sunlight as I arrive on the upper level. They perch atop the box mattress. Scooping them up, I release them over the railing, sending them down to Chessie.

  “There’s one still missing,” Morpheus says from the ground floor.

  “It’s here,” I answer. “Caught in some web.”

  The insect cries as it jerks against the sticky tangles, helpless and frightened. Whispering comforting words, I work it free, careful not to damage its wings. As soon as I turn the moth loose, I notice something in the far corner where the web is thickest. I edge closer, eyes adjusting to the shadows.

  A sick feeling rolls through me as I recognize the outline of a body—a cocooned corpse.

  “Uh, Morpheus …” I can barely murmur the words.

  As if reacting to my voice, the corpse moves under the thick white fibers. The air in my lungs freezes. I lift my foot to step back just as a hand rips through the web and snatches my wrist with a grip as cold as ice.

  A scream tears from my throat.

  Adrenaline surges through me, and I pry the cold fingers from my wrist. Morpheus flies to my side. We exchange a glance, then examine the cocooned webbing along the wall. Together, we break through and release the form from its shell.

  A woman slumps into Morpheus’s arms. She smells fruity and delicate—like pears. Her skin sparkles with the sheen of moonlight over a frosted lake, and giant feathery white wings drape behind her shoulders.

  She’s an ice swan and a queen entwined. I’d know her anywhere.

  “Ivory,” I whisper. I can’t imagine why she’s here, trapped like this.

  Morpheus pales. He lifts her and carries her to the mattress, kicking aside the lamp on the way. He lays her down gently. Off-white lace peeks out from the web clinging to her dress. Waist-length silvery hair wraps around her long, elegant neck.

  Seated on the edge of the bed, Morpheus peels a sticky gossamer coating from her nose and mouth. She gasps for breath. Her white lashes and eyebrows twitch, glistening like crystals.

  I drop to my knees in front of Morpheus’s feet, holding her hand as she coughs herself awake.

  “Don’t try to talk, Your Majesty,” Morpheus insists, though I sense tension along with the concern in his voice. “Alyssa, could you get her something to drink? Surely you have water or some such in your car.”

  “No.” She furrows her brow at Morpheus, then focuses on me. The black markings on her temples glitter in the sunlight, veined like a dragonfly’s wings. “Queen Alyssa, forgive me.” Her
faded blue irises are almost colorless.

  I squeeze her fingers to comfort her. “For what?”

  “For endangering your mortal knight. I never anticipated things getting so out of hand. We will find him … we’ll get him back.”

  She’s obviously confused. There’s no telling how long she’s been encased in that web. I cast a glance through the rails. Jeb’s lying on the floor. Chessie buzzes around him, keeping watch. “He’s not lost. He’s downstairs, sleeping.”

  “Sister Two didn’t take him?” she asks.

  “Sister Two?” Morpheus appears as shocked as I feel. Then he groans. “The door knocker. The mystery woman in Alyssa’s mosaics. The one hiding in the shadows …”

  “Of course,” I whisper, seeing the vision again in my mind. The eight living vines connected to her lower torso. They weren’t tentacles. They were spider legs. The door knocker wasn’t about the scars on my palms. It was a tribute to her mutated hand.

  “But why would Sister Two be involved?” I reason aloud. “Why would she be at the same cottage where Red was holed up? She despises Red for escaping her keep in the cemetery last year.”

  “Red was never here,” Ivory answers.

  Morpheus clears his throat, and their gazes meet in some silent understanding.

  “So Sister Two was holding Jeb prisoner?” I ask. “She gave him the Tumtum juice, forced him to paint all night? Why would she do that?”

  Ivory tries to answer but coughs again.

  Morpheus nudges my shoulder. “The water, Alyssa.”

  Ivory swallows hard and tightens her fingers through mine as I start to get up. “That won’t be necessary. Her questions deserve answers.”

  Morpheus frowns. “I don’t think this is the time.”

  “When else, Morpheus?” Ivory scolds. “She is in deeper than any of us now. Sister Two left that door knocker as a warning to both of you. She knows of her twin’s betrayal from all those years ago.” Ivory’s eyes settle on me. “And Alison’s betrayal.”