If she has – if she’s taken him back, then at least he’ll live.
Which is more than I can say for the rest of us.
***
Nobody speaks as we walk to the elevator, the guards trailing us.
Hatter is still missing.
I can feel his absence like a missing limb at my side. Chess grips my hand tightly. Buck walks ahead, the twins behind.
They’ve left his spot empty too.
“Stay close to us,” Chess murmurs. “For as long as you can.”
I barely manage to nod before the doors slide open.
The music hits me first. A disjointed, off-key melody, as though a child is hitting at the keys without any thought or care.
As we step out, all of us still.
“How the fuck do they do it?” Aiden mutters.
The stage in front of us is set… for a party. The large table has been laid with five place settings, and my chest twists with a fear that takes me by surprise.
He’s fine.
And as I look up, my eyes straining to see past the bright spotlights that fix on us, I realize just how true that is.
There are dozens of people seated around us in rows that rise off the ground. Making sure they all have the perfect view for whatever is to come. All of them are masked, their identities protected for whatever sick activities they have in mind.
And Hatter… Hatter is sitting next to Red.
He doesn’t smile as our eyes meet. He doesn’t make any movement at all, aside from the slightest tightening of his eyes.
He looks unharmed. But—
My eyes drop down. The collar rings his neck, pressing against his skin.
Property of Red.
Red catches me looking. She smiles at me, slow and sultry. My vision tinges red as her hand reaches across to play with Hatter’s hair.
Look at me, the movement screams.I’ve won.
Except he’s not a fucking prize in some fucked up game.
He doesn’t respond to her touch at all. His expression almost looks numb, as if he’s sealed himself off. I see no hint of kindness, of quiet humor and strength in his gaze.
What have you done?
Chess steps in front of me as my hands tug at my skirt, trying to pull it down. “I don’t like this.”
Red rises to her feet. The murmurs of the investors around us cut out, the music lowering to become quiet background music.
Her gown sweeps out in layers from the corset she’s wearing, a bright, vibrant scarlet. It matches her lips, her nails, as she taps a microphone in front of her.
“My darlings.” She spreads her hands wide. “Welcome, all of you. To our final night ofWonderland!”
