“Blame it on me.” I opened the rusted, creaking gate and strode toward the front door.
When we got closer to the building, its run-down nature was even more obvious. Curls of paint threatened to fall off the walls, and I swore I could hear the squeaking of mice.
“Are you two sure that this is the place? Sounds gross inside.”
“That’s just Dormouse. He’s on our side,” Dum said, looking unbothered by the rodent party going on inside. “Go on.”
Still skeptical, I knocked lightly so as not to break down the door. Another chorus of squeaks came from within, and a few seconds later, the door squealed open.
A rabbit stood there, but not the one I’d followed into Wonderland. This one had brown fur, a distinct lack of a waistcoat or pocket watch, and a scowl on his face.
“What happened to Herald?” the brown rabbit said, his gaze oscillating between Dee and Dum.
“I told you that you should have sent me! The idiot left Alice at the tower!” Dee exclaimed. “I had to save her!”
“We,” Dum corrected. “We had to save her.”
“I would like to put it out there that I didn’t actually need saving. I would have figured out the cake/bottle thing.”
It was probably a lie, but I wasn’t about to meet my parents for the first time in ages, and let them think I was a damsel in distress.
“I’m March Hare,” the brown rabbit replied, taking no notice of what I’d said. “Come inside before someone sees you.” He turned and made his way down a long, dark hallway.
March Hare’s gait was somewhere between a hop and how normal people walked—one foot smoothly in front of the other. It was so strange and mesmerizing that I didn’t even hear the voices we were approaching until the hare led us into a large room filled with paintings in various stages of doneness.
Three new people stood before us, in the middle of what appeared to be a heated discussion. Well, ‘people’was a loose term. While they talked like people, dressed like people, and even walked like people, two of the three beings weren’t people.
Two mice stood on the table, both dressed in long shirts—one red, one yellow—as they munched on crumbs and chatted up at a man with a sheet of long, black hair that covered his face.
“No!” the black mouse wearing yellow squealed. “We should—”
March Hare cleared his throat.
The room fell silent. The mice turned, and the man’s head snapped up. Striking green eyes locked with mine, making my breath hitch in my throat.
Is he for real?
The guy, with his razor-sharp jawline, a muscular build, and long, black hair that flowed just past his shoulders, was almost too much to take in. Add in the translucent wings veined with emerald and gold that juxtaposed delicacy with brawn, and he was officially the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
Not a human man.A faerie. The same type of fae as me.
“Good afternoon,” the man’s deep baritone rumbled, making my heart rate kick up as he walked over. His eyes continued to bore through me in an odd way.
It’s like he’s looking at a ghost . . .
“I’m Henri Hatter. This is my home. The black mouse is Dormouse, and the one wearing red is Tim.”
“Alice. But I think you might already know that.”
Henri’s lips twitched up at the corners. “Welcome to Heartstown, Alice. Would you mind chatting with me?” He gestured to a pair of tatty chairs that sat before a hearth filled with fire.
“Sure . . .” I said, “although I came here for a specific reason.” I cast a glance around but didn’t see anyone else in the room. Nor did I hear others moving about elsewhere. “My family . . . are they here?”
“Of course,” Henri replied. “You always preferred to get down to business.”
I cocked my head. “Excuse me?”
“We’ve met before, Alice. Long, long ago.” Henri smiled, and my heart skipped a beat when two deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. “Come, let’s talk.” He turned, and for the first time, I was presented with Henri’s backside.
