But when his lips brushed mine—soft, tentative, nothing like the alley—I didn’t pull away. It was comfort more than passion. An apology he couldn’t put into words. The kiss in the alley had made my pulse race. This one made my eyes sting with fresh tears. I wasn't sure which was more terrifying.
He drew back, his silver eyes searching my face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For all of it.”
Some of the anger melted away. But the memory was so fresh, so raw. “Just don’t ever do it again.”
“How will I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You’re going to have to learn to trust me.”
Something flickered in his expression—doubt, maybe. Or fear. He didn’t answer for a couple of long heartbeats as if measuring whether trust would ever be possible. He pulled back, and just like that, the walls went up again. “Back to why you would be hunted…”
The intimate moment was over. I wondered if there was anyone he truly trusted without having to use the hat.
“Since Cormac lost the war, the portal was sealed on your side. We couldn’t open it. No one could. Until Joy opened it with her shadows from the other side.”
My stomach dropped. It couldn’t be. There had to be more than one Joy in this realm. “Joy who?”
“Joy DuPont. We were in the queen’s dungeon together. She’s the one that helped free me.” He lowered his head. “I couldn’t get her out. I failed her. Rabbit and I?—”
“Rabbit?” I held up a hand. "Wait—like Caterpillar? Another person with an odd name?"
He jerked his head up. “Never mind.”
Suspicion flashed in his eyes. He stood abruptly, putting distance between us.
He headed toward the door, and fear coiled in my stomach. I didn’t want him to leave. What if more memories clawed their way to the surface? Learning my mother burned alive was enough horror for one night. I wasn’t ready for more.
Tinker Bell always said I had a block on my past. That when the door finally opened, it would be painful.
As always, she was right.
I missed her. God, I missed her voice.
I was alone here. The only person I could depend on was Hatter—my captor.
“Wait.”
He stopped, his hand on the door.
“Joy DuPont is fine.”
He went rigid. Slowly, he turned. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know her. She made it back to New Orleans.” I watched his face—the disbelief, the desperate hope he was trying to hide. “She’s with Enzo. She’s safe.”
His breath caught. For a moment, he looked like a man who’d been drowning and just broke the surface.
Then it hit me.
Joy had told me stories. About the dungeon. About a man she’d helped escape—a man she couldn’t bring with her. He’d been trapped in the Elder Dimension so long he was losing himself. Forgetting his past. Going mad.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“You’re Darius Acosta.” The name came out as a whisper. “Aren’t you?”
He stared at me. The mask he wore—the Mad Hatter, the captor, the survivor—cracked.
Then he was on me.
