The mirrors acted like magic phones, but you could only use FaceTime. She preferred actual phones and kept her mirror buried in her locker. It used to stay in her room, until Hatta “called” her one evening and Mom was certain Alice was smuggling boys into her room. She took the door off the hinges and kept it. For a month. Who does that?
Finally, the swirl of colored light and silver evened out to reveal Maddi’s yawning face. “Twinkle who?”
“Madeline, wake up!” Hatta said cheerfully.
“But it’s star time,” Maddi huffed.
“I know, but Alice got a little banged up and needs something to set her right.”
“Nuh-uh,” Alice called as she stepped around a large pink stone. “And no, I don’t.”
Hatta ignored her. “Do you think you could whip something up by the time we get back?”
Maddi blinked again, her eyes now orange. She nodded, and a veil of stringy black curls fell around her face. “Full moons mean empty glasses.” She gave a thumbs-up.
“Great. See you in a tick.”
Maddi waved before her image faded and the mirror was a mirror again.
“Do you not know what ‘I’m fine’ means?” Alice cut him some side-eye.
“Yes,” Hatta drawled, and shoved the mirror back into his pocket. “And you probably are. But if your knee bothers you in the morning, you’ll have something.”
Yeah, he was right. And it would likely help her arm, too, which still throbbed slightly. She’d had worse, but this didn’t tickle.
Finally, they broke through the forest’s edge into the meadow. Another cloudy night hung over them, pale green clouds puffy and shining with blue moonlight. Breaks in the billows revealed the splintered, starless sky. A faint golden glow peeked through the cracks. The Midnight Breaking had come and gone, but that didn’t mean anything. Time passed much more erratically here than in the real world. Sometimes, an hour back home could equal a day here. Or a week. One of the reasons Hatta suggested she never spend more time here than absolutely necessary. Across the meadow, Wimble-Di’Glow Woods stood as a beacon in the night.
“Curiouser.” Hatta glanced around as they approached the Glow.
“What?”
“Nothing. But maybe everything.”
Oh boy, here we go. Wonderlandians may speak every language, but sometimes they don’t make a lick of sense.
“That was the ninth incident this month,” Hatta said.
“Tenth,” she corrected. “There was the twofer this past Saturday.”
“Right,” said Hatta. “How’re you doing?” His voice softened and sent butterflies skittering through her insides.
“Better.” She swallowed. Said twofer hit a little close to home.
Normally, Dreamwalkers were immune to the influences of Nightmares, but if it was a fear close to your heart, it could get to you anyway.
A week before the fight, police shot a black girl, seventeen, same age as Alice. Her name was Brionne Mathews. It happened in the parking lot after a football game at a school across town. Nothing the news said made sense, something about a fight between gangs and some people had guns. The girl had on one gang’s colors, but so did a lot of people. They were the same colors as one of the teams playing that night.
Over the next few days, things were kinda chaotic. Protests and arrests. Course some mofos came in trying to start trouble. So many people were hurt, angry, and so afraid. It was enough to create two Nightmares. Alice had felt that fear, a physical thing that ate away at her from the inside. It left her hollow, shaking, and useless. If Hatta hadn’t been there …
“Alice?” Hatta’s voice pulled at her. He stood at the edge of the Glow, eyes on her, concern illuminated in their light. “Are you all right, luv?”
“Fine,” she breathed, and nodded. “Just tired.” She was seriously feeling every bone and muscle in her body right now. A hot shower and her bed were singing her song.
“Ahh. Let’s get you home, then.” He curled his fingers, beckoning.
She grasped his hand, the rest of her body stiff with chills, and followed him into the Glow. Its haunting shine wrapped around her. In all of Wonderland, this was her favorite place.
She swatted at bouncing Flits and Sparks as they dipped in and out of her vision like fiery cotton balls, and she took care not to step on the blossoms scattered across the ground like Christmas lights. Flowers never wasted an opportunity to whine about being trampled.
They walked in silence until, eventually, soft earth gave way to the hard stone of the Gateway platform beneath their feet. Hatta released her hand. Her skin prickled at the loss, and she tucked her hand under her arm.
At the center of the terrace, he stretched out his arm. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then the air in front of him split down the middle and curled outward like a well-used scroll. Pale light spilled out around him, the Gateway drawing open to about the size of a large door.
Turning to her, he angled forward and extended a hand. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”
Feeling a familiar warmth crawl up the back of her neck, she grasped his hand and stepped through the Gateway and into his arms. They wrapped around her, muscle concealed by lengthy sleeves.
As light enveloped the two of them, he settled his chin atop her head. Her arms wound around his waist, and she got a faint whiff of Nightmare stink. It amazed her how the smell didn’t seem to bother him. Every time she ended up covered in the stuff, he took her into his arms like it was nothing. Her cheeks warmed at the thought as the Gateway folded in behind her, the air sewing itself shut. The light faded, leaving them floating in darkness.
She closed her eyes and held her breath.
Man, she hated this part.
* * *
When the scream of wind died away, and the floor solidified beneath her feet, she stood shaking and trying hard to keep her stomach in check. She hadn’t eaten before going through the Veil; what was even in there to come up?
“You okay?” Hatta murmured near her ear.
She nodded rapidly, fighting to regain control of her breathing enough to manage words. “’M fine,” she half gasped, half burped, then groaned. Sexy, Kingston. Real sexy.
“After all this time, still not used to it.” He chuckled and let go, taking with him her means of stability.
One hand shot out to brace against the wall. “My stomach does not appreciate being spun through the universe like old socks in a washer.” She flapped her other hand at him. “Open the door.”
Light and sound burst into the space as he stepped out. Stable, Alice moved to follow, but something caught her foot. With an undignified squawk, she fell against the doorjamb. A mop lay across the floor, snagged on the toe of her shoe. Grumbling, she kicked it into the closet and slammed the door.
Blessed with increased speed and agility, incredible strength and dexterity, abilities no normal human being possessed … and she trips over a mop.
“Complications?” Hatta had stopped at the end of the hallway, where it angled to the left and out of sight. The sound of laughter, music, and clacking billiard balls poured in from behind him.
Shaking her head, Alice waved him on. “I’m fine. Gonna clean up.” She steadied herself against the wall, the faux wood cool beneath her fingers.
“I’ll wait for you out front.” He disappeared around the corner. A chorus of cheers greeted him.
Alice shuffled after him but veered left into the ladies’ room. She locked the door and turned the water on full blast. Cupping her hands beneath the spout, she splashed her face again and again. The sudden shock of cold helped tamp the nausea churning in her gut. She snatched paper towels from the dispenser to wipe her face and jerked when their roughness scraped a tender area near her temple.
Staring at her reflection, she pushed her hair back to reveal scratches on the side of her face. They were barely bleeding. Smoothing her fingers against her brown cheeks, she wrangled her ebony locks and tied them off. If she didn’t count the
stains on her jeans and shoes, she looked presentable. She couldn’t do anything about the smell, though. It wasn’t so bad anymore, but her nose still scrunched whenever she caught a whiff. Yeah, this outfit was definitely done. She’d spent a grip on these shoes, too. After a few finishing touches, she made her way out front.
Hatta stood behind the bar, talking to Maddi. Above them the cat clock ticked and wagged away. 10:34 p.m.
Crap. It wasn’t too late, but Mom would still probably have a cow.
“Hey, I need to head out. Pretty sure my mom’s already gonna bust my ass. Better not make it worse.”
“Right.” Hatta sat a small vial of purple liquid on the counter. “Maddi worked her Poetic magic.”
“It was,” Maddi muttered, her head tilted against her hand on the bar, “nothing not worth everything.”
“Thanks.” Alice pocketed the vial as Hatta produced her backpack and purse from behind the bar. She traded him her belt and daggers, then hurriedly pulled out her phone. Technology didn’t work in Wonderland, so she usually left it at the bar or with her best friend, Courtney, who would cover for her. Court had tennis practice today, so Alice was on her own. Six missed calls and twice as many texts. Yikes …
She didn’t read any of them, but caught a glimpse of a threat to put her ass in traction if she didn’t pick up her phone. “I’ll see you guys later,” she said as she struggled into her pack with one hand, the other speeding over her phone to let Court know she was back but probably wouldn’t be at school tomorrow since her mom was going to eat her alive.
“Be safe.” The door swung shut behind her, cutting off Hatta as Alice stepped out onto the street. Downtown Atlanta sparkled in the distance.
She took off toward the nearest MARTA station, praying the Red Line hadn’t run yet. Hopefully, by the time she made it home, Mom would be asleep. Alice really didn’t wanna have to explain why she was burning a brand-new pair of shoes.
* * *
As Alice raced up the sidewalk toward her house, she grimaced when she noticed a glow from the living room windows.
Shit.
And the front door wasn’t even locked.
Oh shit.
Ruined shoes in hand, Alice slipped inside and headed straight for the stairs. She took them two at a time as quietly as she could. In her room she dropped her shoes and bag at the foot of her bed and peeled off her clothes. Those and her Converse went into a shopping bag, and she tied it up to throw away tomorrow. She’d scrubbed the last of the Nightmare gunk from her arms and pulled on her pajamas when, “Alice?” Mom’s voice floated up from the kitchen.
Hnnnnnnnnnnnshit. “Yeah?” Alice stuck her head out of the door.
The soft thump of her mother’s footsteps preluded her appearance down in the den. She stood in yoga pants and a T-shirt, her hair a bushy halo around her head, somehow perfect. Alice never managed to get her hair to look that good.
Mom folded her arms over her chest. The curious look on her face flattened under a stormy stare. “Where the hell you been?”
Every muscle in Alice’s body stood at attention. “I fell asleep at Courtney’s.” The lies leaped free with ease now. A year of practice helped. “She put in some sappy love movie, and I was out.”
Hopefully, Court would be okay with a retroactive cover-up. What’re best friends for, right?
“And you didn’t—Get down here.”
Resigned, Alice exited the safety of her room and slumped back down the stairs.
Mom met her at the bottom. “You didn’t hear your phone? I called at least twelve times.” The dim light from the nearby lamps painted her rich brown skin in gold flame, intensifying the irritation rolling off her.
“It was on vibrate.” Another lie. And Mom had only called six times, but she wasn’t bringing that up.
“Mmmmmmmmhm.” Mom pinched her lips and arched an eyebrow. “I don’t appreciate these games, Alison.” She shuffled toward the kitchen.
Alice flopped against the stairs. She buried her face in her arms, a sudden heaviness pouring through her. “I’m not playing games.”
“—late enough this week. And don’t blame the phone; it ain’t ignoring my calls.”
“I’m not ignoring you.”
“—got too much to do around here and can’t do it by myself. Specially since I’m leaving town next week. I’ll be gone for four days. This house, work, your grandma, I can’t do it alone.”
Alice stiffened. Alone? Alone?!
For months after her dad passed suddenly, heart failure the doctors said, Alice did everything. She spent hours before and after school, when she wasn’t training with Hatta, cleaning the house from top to bottom. Every day. She cooked, she did the yard work, she fielded calls from family and friends, lying to them about how she and Mom were doing okay. They weren’t. Then, when Mom recovered, Alice kept the work up. She’d felt that if she eased even the smallest burdens—like mating socks or making sure the dishes were always done—it would lessen the chances of her mother sinking into herself again. If anyone had been alone, it was her! She wanted to scream the words, tasted them and the anger charring the back of her throat, coating her tongue with ash.
Instead she swallowed it all, like acid, and croaked, “You’re not alone.”
A hand squeezed Alice’s knee. Reluctantly, she lifted her head, and blinked in surprise.
Mom held a culinary offering aloft, the heady spice of shrimp scampi mingling with the sweet tang of olive oil and tomatoes over angel-hair pasta. Her favorite.
Alice’s wide eyes lifted to her mother, who settled a warm plateful of food into Alice’s somewhat shaky hands. Then her mom leaned in to kiss her forehead and smooth her hands over her hair.
“You’re all I got left. I can be worried.”
Alice’s throat swelled. Heat filled her face, stinging her eyes lightly.
“Especially after what happened to that baby.” Mom came around to sit on Alice’s stair and slipped an arm around her shoulders. She was talking about Brionne. Had to be. That’s all anyone was talking about anymore. Well, anyone around here.
Mom kissed Alice’s temple and smoothed fingers against her baby hairs. “The story was on again tonight, and I just…” Mom pursed her lips, her eyes shining with tears. “With you not answering your phone, I didn’t know what to think.”
Alice rested her head against Mom’s shoulder, careful to balance the plate on her knees. “Anything new?”
“Same old, same old.” Mom shook her head and rubbed Alice’s arm. “That baby’s gone, and nobody got answers. It wasn’t even a full story, just some words on the bottom of the screen saying the investigation is still ongoing in the death of a young woman and some other mess. Won’t even say her name.”
Alice straightened when Mom stood up. “Promise me you’ll be careful. I know you already are, just”—she lifted her hand from Alice’s knee, made a fist, then forced her fingers loose to pat her knee again, squeezing—“even when you’re careful, even when you play by the rules, it might not be enough. Gotta go the extra mile out here.”
“You’re scared I’ll end up like Brionne?” Alice asked quietly, her shoulders hunched.
“Maybe. Or maybe it’ll be those little girls down the street. That boy you used to catch the bus with.” Mom sighed, shaking her head. “A lot of us are scared, but I don’t wanna scare you, baby. I just want—”
“Me to be careful.”
“For you to be okay.” Mom leaned in for another kiss, this one on Alice’s cheek. “Eat. Then go to bed.” Mom headed for the kitchen again. “I don’t wanna hear no mess about you too tired to go to school tomorrow.”
“Good night.” Alice shuffled up to her room.
Stretched across her bed, she couldn’t bring herself to eat more than a few bites. She pushed the rest around on her plate. Normally, she was starving after a trip through the Veil, or anytime really—a girl burns some serious calories fighting monsters and motion sickness—but her appetite was MIA, even for
her fave. Something wet and cold brushed her feet. Peering over her shoulder, she spied a familiar face of dark fur and blue eyes. “Hey, Lou.”
Lewis, her Siamese cat, purred and pressed into the attention as she rubbed his ears.
“Been keeping my bed warm?” She kept scratching. “Where’s Carol?”
Lewis paused in licking his paw to pin her with a look.
“Right, Mom’s room.”
The stub-tailed tortie preferred Mom’s California king, fit for feline royalty.
Alice sighed, her gaze drawn to a picture of her father on her desk across the room. It had been a year and some months. That’s one Father’s Day. Almost two birthdays. Almost two Christmases, Thanksgivings, everything else. Two anniversaries for her mom.
But it wasn’t all bad. There was a whole year of Hatta. A whole year of Wonderland. A whole year of being a secret hero. Beating the shit out of monsters was what kept her from losing it. Doing something, saving people. Now, everything was okay. At least, she thought it was okay. She needed it to stay okay.
Setting aside her now-cold plate of pasta, she crawled under her blanket, turned off her lamp, and curled up in the dark. Mom’s words from earlier played through her head.
Even when you’re careful, even when you play by the rules, it might not be enough. Gotta go the extra mile out here.
Having special powers might count as going the extra mile. But was she faster than a bullet? Was she strong enough to survive one? She could fight monsters, but she couldn’t fight this. She was out there protecting everyone from some bad shit from another world, but bad shit still happened in this one. What if it did happen to her? What would the news say? No one would know she was a superhero. Would it matter? Or would she be another story with people waiting to hear both sides but only listening to one before forgetting her completely? She’d protected this world, but would anyone protect her?
Mom wasn’t alone, but if anything happened to Alice, she would be. And like Brionne’s family, Mom would be left with all questions, no answers, and no one else.
No. Alice curled tighter under the blanket and squeezed her eyes shut. No, she couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t control Nightmares, and she couldn’t control bullets, but she could control this. She could quit. She could stop putting herself out there like this. She could just walk away, and the sooner the better. Tomorrow. She’d do it tomorrow.