A Blade So Black E-Book

L.L. McKinney

• Herausgeber: Titan Books
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 449

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

A Blade So Black is an irresistible contemporary retelling of Alice in Wonderland... but it's not the Wonderland you remember. "The fantasy book I've been waiting for my whole life." Angie Thomas, author of The Hate U GiveThe first time the Nightmares came, it nearly cost Alice her life. Now she's trained to battle monstrous creatures in the dark dream realm known as Wonderland with magic weapons and hardcore fighting skills. Yet even warriors have a curfew.Life in real-world Atlanta isn't always so simple, as Alice juggles an overprotective mom, a high-maintenance best friend, and a slipping GPA. Keeping the Nightmares at bay is turning into a full-time job. But when Alice's handsome and mysterious mentor is poisoned, she has to find the antidote by venturing deeper into Wonderland than she's ever gone before. And she'll need to use everything she's learned in both worlds to keep from losing her head... literally.Debut author L.L. McKinney delivers an action-packed twist on an old classic, full of romance and otherworldly intrigue.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Author’s Note

Prologue: Curiouser

One: Here we Go

Two: Beyond the Veil

Three: Dreamwalker

Four: Undate

Five: Loose Ends

Six: Contrariwise

Seven: A Message

Eight: And Curiouser

Nine: A Very Important Date

Ten: Visiting Hours are Over

Eleven: Contagious

Twelve: The Puzzle

Thirteen: Hurry

Fourteen: The Duchess

Fifteen: Legracia

Sixteen: What Mother Wants

Seventeen: D is For...

Eighteen: Fiendish

Nineteen: Jaws that Bite

Twenty: The Black Knight

Twenty-One: Best-Laid Plans

Twenty-Two: Five Down

Twenty-Three: One to Go

Twenty-Four: A Deal

Twenty-Five: Reflections

Twenty-Six: The Eye

Twenty-Seven: Famous Last Words

Twenty-Eight: Eyes of Flame

Twenty-Nine: Claws that Catch

Thirty: Not Over

Epilogue: It’s Only a Dream

Acknowledgments

L.L.MCKINNEY

TITAN BOOKS

A Blade So BlackPrint edition ISBN: 9781789090055E-book edition ISBN: 9781789090062

Published by Titan BooksA division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd.144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UPwww.titanbooks.com

First edition September 201810 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Copyright © 2018 Leatrice McKinney. All rights reserved. Published in arrangement with Imprint, a part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

For my Granny,who put a pen in my handand told me I had the powerto shape the world

“Begin at the beginning . . . and go ontill you come to the end: then stop.”

LEWIS CARROLL

PROLOGUE

CURIOUSER

Alice couldn’t cry. She couldn’t scream. All she could do was run.

Her boots slapped the vinyl floor. Light flickered in the red leather. Someone shouted her name. Maybe her mother. Maybe a nurse. A hurricane of rushing blood and her thrashing heart wailed in her ears.

Out. She had to get out.

A feeling like a hammer beating at the inside of her skull made everything fuzzy. She didn’t see the white man in the middle of the hall until she was on top of him, but she couldn’t stop. It was like hitting a wall. Then they both hit the ground. The smell of bleach and disinfectant coated her throat.

She fought to untangle herself from him.

“Dammit, kid, hold on a second!”

“Alice!” Mom’s voice chased her past the lobby and through the sliding doors.

Get. Out.

Bright red letters danced in the puddles peppering the concrete.

EMERGENCY

Grady towered over her, casting a shadow across the night.

Warm water misted her skin and hung in the air, a rain that wasn’t really committed to falling.

She raced into the street. A car swerved to avoid her, horn blaring and headlights flashing.

“You crazy?” the driver hollered at her back.

Alice had no idea where she was headed. She just ran. Past parking garages and a couple shops. Squat, beige buildings lined the street. The GSU campus. She kept going.

He was okay.

And going.

All day, he was fine. Why did he do this?

And going.

Why did he leave me?

Her lungs kicked at her rib cage, strangled by the hollow feeling clawing at her chest. Her legs pumped until the burn in her stomach rolled to her feet. When they refused to carry her any farther, she dropped to the ground. Water soaked her gloves. Dirt stained the white fabric. Uneven asphalt dug into her knees, scraping them as she crawled the last few feet to sink against a wall.

Tears and snot ran down her face. “Daddy.” But he was gone. Dead.

“Poor child,” someone nearby whispered, the words dragging across their tongue in a growl. “So alone. So afraid.”

Panting around hiccups, Alice shook her head, her face in her hands. “Go away.”

“Oh, I can’t just leave you. Not when your fear is so . . . inviting.”

Alice lifted her head to search the emptiness around her. She sat in the mouth of an alley, god knows where. Her tears made it hard to see. Snot and the stink of something sour made it hard to breathe.

“I can take it away.” The darkness shifted with movement deeper in the alley, coming toward her. “Let me help you.”

A dog stepped out of the black. Huge paws ended with long, wicked claws that clacked against the ground. Inky skin, no fur, rippled as it moved. Illuminated eyes blinked at her; one pair, then two, and three. Lips curled in a flash of fangs the size of her fingers.

The trembling in Alice’s gut shuddered through the rest of her.

She screamed.

It lunged. Teeth snapped shut just inches shy of her face. Drool that smelled like rotten meat splashed across her chest and cheek. She scrambled backward, trying to call for help, the words choked in a wail. The roughness of the brick at her back caught her clothes and scraped her skin. She was trapped.

Instead of attacking again, the creature collapsed and flailed, ripping at the ground. “Traitor!” it shrieked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The air quivered, steeped in shadows that seemed to recoil as a white boy stepped into view. He gripped the end of something sticking out of the monster’s back.

A sword, Alice realized. The thunder of her heartbeat against her skull sharpened.

What little light that managed to thread the gloom hovered along the length of the blade, as if afraid or unable to touch it.

“You will suffer! You will all suffer!” Pinned to the ground, the beast thrashed. Yellow blood slid against the blade, coating the onyx metal, dripping onto the pavement beneath it.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of . . .” The boy pulled the sword free and drove it in again with a slurch.

Alice jerked. So did the monster. Then it fell still. The glow in its eyes slowly faded.

Stepping over the body, the boy wiped his sword clean then slipped it into a sheath over his shoulder. As the hilt clicked into place, light poured in from the street, saturating the alley.

Confused, Alice blinked against the stinging bright, trying to focus on what and who was in front of her. Wearing dark jeans, boots, and purple T-shirt with the words We’re All Mad Here scrawled across the front, he looked like a regular dude. With a weapon strapped to his back.

She didn’t realize she was staring until the beast’s body jolted with a loud pop, startling her. Its leathery skin bubbled and folded, shrinking in. A smell like old milk and mold filled the air. She gagged, her stomach roiling.

Oh my god. There was really a dead monster. She was going to be sick.

Unfolding his lithe frame from a crouch, the boy turned to go, though he paused as if noticing her for the first time. Blinking, he shifted to the left, then to the right as Alice watched. “You see me?” He had an accent. Sounded English.

It took a second for Alice to realize he was speaking to her. She nodded, her eyes darting between him and the dissolving creature. “Curiouser.” He tilted his head to the side and came toward her.

Alice jerked back, fear cold in her limbs.

“Whoa.” He lifted both hands and went still. “I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” He took another, slower step. When Alice didn’t move—she wasn’t sure she could—he took a couple more, then knelt in front of her. Light from the street slid across his moss green hair and spilled into gray eyes looking her over from beneath a furrowed brow. “Anything hurt?” he asked.

Alice stared. She couldn’t manage words. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves as her mind tried to make sense of . . . she wasn’t even sure. Talking dog-monsters, some dude with a sword, he killed—what the hell just happened? She couldn’t breathe. When she tried, sour air stuck in her throat. Her stomach quivered.

“Hey. It’s okay.” His quiet voice managed to fill the alley. The gray in his eyes shifted, colors catching and dancing like a kaleidoscope in the dark.

Chest heaving, Alice shook her head. Blond strands from her wig clung to her face. Her thighs stung where she’d crawled across the ground. The pounding in her head worsened, made it hard to think. She had to get up. She had to go. Dad was waiting to take her to the con. Only he wasn’t. He was gone.

“Can you walk?”

“Wh-who—” She couldn’t get the rest of the words out. They weren’t even words anymore, just small sounds on the edge of more sobs. No. She gripped her mouth with both hands, her fingers digging into her cheeks. Stop it. Stop. It. The ache in her jaw spread to her throat and slithered behind her eyes as she fought back tears, bottling them up to throw them away. She wouldn’t break down like this. Not out here. Not in front of . . . whoever this was. Hiccupping around slow breaths, she fixed the boy with a stare and pushed the question free. “Who are you?”

“Oh good. I thought you might pass out on me.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m Addison Hatta.” He offered her the other. Bands of silver gleamed on each of his fingers. “Can I help you?”

She watched those fingers for a long moment. When he wiggled them, her eyes shot to his face, then the hilt of the sword peeking over his shoulder.

A freaking sword.

This is too much.

She took his hand.

Addison stood, drawing her up as well. Her legs shook but held, though she braced her free hand against the wall. Dirty water and lord knows what else stained her gloves and her sailor fuku. Her costume was ruined. She’d worked so hard on it.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

Swallowing thickly, she forced words over the sand in her throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcommme.” He drew out the last syllable, trailing off with a lift of his eyebrows.

“A-Alice.”

“You’re welcome, Alice.” A smile stretched his face, and the color of his irises shifted again, brighter now.

“Your eyes!” She pointed, nearly poking him in one. “They changed!”

“Yeah.” He rubbed at the back of his head. “That happens when I come to this side . . . of town.”

“This side—where are you from?”

“Not anywhere near here.”

The burbling body nearby gave a loud crack. It was nearly gone, the ground stained black beneath it.

She aimed her finger at that mess. “What was that thing? Where did it come from?” The questions leaped free on their own, her brain latching on to something, anything to try and make sense of what she was seeing. Shifting to the side a few steps, she eyed Addison and his sword once more.

“The same place as me?”

“And where the hell is that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Addison chewed at his lower lip, watching the body before looking to Alice. He eyed her up and down, then nodded to himself. “But I think I will.”

ONE

HERE WE GO

Alice ran her fingers over the ivory handles of the daggers on the desk in front of her. Cold light filled the blades, their surfaces more like silvered glass than steel. You’d think after three months of knowing Addison Hatta, she wouldn’t be surprised whenever he pulled random weapons out.

“Pretty.” She plucked one up and raised her eyebrows. “Light. What are they?”

“Figment Blades.” Addison dug around in the drawers where he sat on the other side of the desk. The old metal rattled and creaked.

“For real?” She trailed her fingers over the flat of one of the glittering blades, the only things capable of killing Nightmares. She’d never held one before or seen one, really.

“They’ll help focus your Muchness.”

“Munch-what now?”

“Muchness.” He slammed a drawer then jumped with a curse, shaking out his hand. “Your Muchness, to be precise.” The fingers he’d shoved into his mouth muffled the words. “The part of you that believes in yourself, even when the rest of you doesn’t.”

Alice blinked a few times then set the dagger down. “Right. They look a lil small for killing monsters.” She’d only ever seen one Nightmare, when Addison rescued her the night her dad died. While it wasn’t huge, it was big enough to be scary as all hell.

“That’s not what matters.” He slammed another drawer. “The weapon is only part of the equation. A small part.”

The desk took up most of the cramped space he called his office—more like a slightly large broom closet—along with the small love seat Alice sat perched on. There were a couple lamps, but the place was mostly bare. No file cabinets, no computer, just a little shelf in the corner with a funky teapot on it.

“Says the dude who carries around a big fuck-off sword.” She’d glimpsed the black blade a couple times since that night. When he wasn’t fighting monsters, Addison kept it in a metal locker that filled a corner of this “office.”

“Aha!” Addison straightened and set a leather belt beside the daggers. The sheaths strapped to it clapped together. “You’ll have to be specific; I have many swords.” There was a room in the back of this very building full of weapons, but they were blunted for training.

Alice twisted her lips to the side and leveled a look at him. “You know the one I’m talking about.”

“Do I?”

“Addison.”

“So many.”

“Addison.”

“Well, firstly: It’s not a Figment Blade, and secondly: I’m not human, meaning I don’t have Muchness, so I need a little something extra.” According to Addison, he could destroy a Nightmare’s physical body, but it would just re-form after a while. Since Nightmares were a manifestation of humanity’s fears, humans were the only ones who could put them down permanently. That’s why people like him trained people like her.

“And last: you play too much.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but there was no real heat behind it. “Talkin’ ’bout some ‘you’ll have to be specific.’ Specific deeze.”

Addison grinned, his dimples popping into view, as he came around from behind the desk and tilted against the front of it. In the harsh fluorescent lighting his hair was dark green, his eyes a subtle though somewhat rainbowy gray. Piercings lined his left ear, shining silver as he cocked his head to the side. Metal glinted over the rest of him, too: the studs in his shirt at the shoulders, the chain around his hips, the zippers and buckles on his boots. A punk rock Prince Charming. Damn, he was fine. Lucky for him.

She turned her attention to the weapons, picking one up, the ivory warm in her palm. “This what you wanted to show me? I mean they’re cool and all, but you made it sound like you had some big surprise set up.”

“Those are now yours, luv.”

Alice nearly dropped the dagger. “For real?”

He nodded, his smile widening. “You’re ready.”

She jerked straight in her chair. “So soon?”

“I wouldn’t call three months soon, but yeah. I knew there was something special about you.” He angled forward, closing off a bit of the space between them.

Heat filled Alice’s face. She turned her attention to the weapons, hoping he couldn’t see her blush. Not that she actually turned red or anything—she don’t blush for real, for real. “Special how?”

“Well, you were able to see me, for one thing.”

She smiled. “Hard to miss a dude stabbing a monster to death three feet in front of you.”

“That’s not the p—I’m trying to be serious and give you a compliment. May I get through my serious compliment?”

Alice lifted her hands, fighting laughter. “Excuse the hell outta me for having eyeballs.”

“That somehow see me even when I mean not to be.” Addison narrowed his eyes before folding his arms over his chest. “Nope. Never mind, moment’s ruined. I now deem you unspecial. Give the daggers back.”

“Wait—” The laughter burst free.

“Nope! Damage is done. Come on, hand them over.”

“No, no,” Alice said, still laughing as she waved off his reaching hands. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“And they’re so fragile.” He grabbed for one of the daggers.

“Waaaiiiiiiit.” She pressed her hand over his, still snickering. “Go on, serious compliment away.”

He watched her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he fought his own smile. “Where was I?”

“I was special.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

He finally chuckled. “Right, then.” Lifting her hand and the dagger she still clutched, he curled her fingers around it and his fingers around hers. “I knew you were special. That’s why I told you about the Veil, the monsters that cross it, and my duty to stop them. Well, my duty to train someone to stop them. I have trained three others before you, and none of them learned so quickly. It was a pleasant surprise.”

Hell, if Addison was surprised, she was floored. He gave her a sword to start, and it was like she’d been carrying the thing her whole life. Maybe not her whole life—she did smash a table once. And a few chairs. On accident. But when she got her hands on a pair of daggers, that was a whole different story. It was like in the movies where someone says something about becoming one with the weapon, blah blah, it’s an extension of your body, blah. No joke, it really felt like that, like her body somehow knew what to do. She still had to practice, though. A lot.

“I had motivation.” More like a need to beat the shit out of something. Ever since her dad died, whenever Alice was alone she was just so . . . angry. She swallowed it. Bottled it up. Her mom needed her. Her grandma needed her. She got through the funeral. She got through the first days back at school. She cried. She hugged it out. But she wanted to punch things.

So when Addison presented her with the chance to be like him, to kill monsters that crept across what he called the Veil, a border between the real world and the world he came from, a realm of dreams called Wonderland, well . . . she called him crazy. Then she apologized; that was rude.

But she’d seen the monster. She’d smelled the damn thing. She’d felt its breath hot on her face, and after going back to that alley near the hospital the next week and seeing that stain on the concrete, after talking with him out in the open and noticing how no one else seemed to notice him, she decided to take him up on his offer.

“Alice?” Addison’s voice sliced through her thoughts.

“Hmm? What?” She blinked up at him, her cheeks warm again. “Sorry.”

“Right in the middle of my serious complimenting.” He huffed, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. “Where’d you go this time?”

“I was thinking about that night.” And meeting him, but “that night” was safer. “And how everything changed.”

“Mmm. Well, it’s about to change again. Strap those on.” He gestured to the daggers, then pushed away from the desk.

Alice fought with the belt for a few seconds before managing to get it fastened around her waist. Her hands shook, a combination of nerves and excitement. For three months she’d been coming here, learning how to fight with a handful of blunt weapons. When she figured those out, Addison said he would give her real ones and take her across the Veil. Now, it was happening. Like, for real, for real. These were real daggers hanging from her hips.

She pressed her fingertips to the hilts again, just to make sure. Dude. This is really going down. She took a slow breath. Keep it together, Kingston.

“You ready?” Addison stood at the door, holding it open for her.

Alice swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, yeah.” She followed him out into the hall.

“Need to let Maddi know we’re going through.” He led the way out to the main part of the building that had served as her training grounds.

The Looking Glass pub was every bit the midtown Atlanta dive it pretended to be, from the mirrored wall of liquor behind the bar to the pool tables, high-top tables, and chairs grouped on the worn wood floor. Strategically mounted TVs meant you could see a number of shows or games from any spot on the floor. Her first time here she didn’t believe this was some secret gateway to another world; it just looked like a bar.

“Looks can be deceiving, which is the point,” Addison had said.

A patchwork of memorabilia from ages past covered the pub’s walls. Hats, pocket watches, monocles, beat-up old canes and parasols, photographs of flappers in Paris and World War II vets in London, an autographed picture of someone named the Big Bopper. A cacophony of sight.

A cat-shaped clock hung on the wall behind the bar—the creepy kind where the huge eyes swish back and forth while the tail wags to mark the passing seconds. Black stripes covered its dark purple body. A grin spread beneath its wiry whiskers.

Tick-tick-tick-tick.

Underneath the clock, Maddi mopped the countertop in slow, lazy circles with a dingy rag. A mousy girl with a round, brown face, she was the pub’s bartender, although Alice believed she took more naps than she mixed drinks. On cue, Maddi yawned, covering her mouth with the rag.

Alice grimaced. Gross.

Like Addison, Maddi was from Wonderland. The two of them were stationed here to keep an eye on one of four openings in the Veil, called Gateways. As a front, they opened the Looking Glass, a functioning bar with drinks and food and regulars, which just happened to have a portal to another realm in the back. Addison owned it. He and Maddi looked young, late teens, early twenties, but they were both super old. Like, immortal old. Still fine, though. They looked like regular people until you got a good look at them, especially their eyes.

“Madeline.” Addison knocked against the bar as he stepped up to it. “I’m taking Alice through.”

Maddi blinked her big blue eyes slowly. With each fall of her lids, the color of her irises shifted, first green, then brown. “Whistle while you work?”

“Yup. She’s ready.”

A thrill slid through Alice at those words. She’d worked so hard. So many long hours, sleepless nights, and sore-as-hell days. This was it, though. She made it. She just had to keep telling herself that. And to breathe.

Addison ducked around behind the bar, glass clinking as he searched for something. He emerged with three small vials of purple liquid, most likely Maddi’s handiwork. The girl was a bomb-ass Poet, but not in the Still I Rise way.

In Wonderland, Poets were like witches or wizards, mixing potions and wielding the magical essence of the realm in spells called Verses.

Alice never saw Maddi do more than mix mild potions to help Alice heal faster after training. Still, the stronger the Poet, the more potent the Verse, and the weirder they talked as a result. Alice figured Maddi was powerful as hell, the way she barely made sense half the time.

“Hold the fort—we’ll be back in a tick,” Hatta said.

Maddi saluted with the rag. There weren’t humanlike races in Wonderland, at least not the way it was in the real world, but people had different skin tones and features. Maddi, with her warm, copper complexion and high, round cheekbones looked almost Latina to Alice. Addison was white. Like, super white, saying stuff like “in a tick.” They both spoke English, Spanish, French, Japanese, Russian, and pretty much every other language on the planet. That’s what happens when your homeland is the collective unconscious of the entire world.

Hatta offered Alice his arm. “Let’s go, luv.”

While the front of the building housed the pub, the back was a labyrinth of hallways and random-ass rooms. Bathrooms. Bedrooms. A kitchen. Hatta and Maddi lived here after all. There was even a room that looked like a hotel somewhere downtown, had windows and everything. It was fake—the building was magic, but still, it was wild.

Alice wondered which of these rooms held the Gateway. She’d never seen it, and now she had that feeling like getting ready to open Christmas presents: giddy, bubbly, and kinda worried that you wouldn’t like what you got. It was as if her stomach didn’t know if it wanted to do the butterfly thing or tie itself in knots. It left her feeling gassy and decidedly unhero-like.

Keep. It. Together. Kingston.

Addison stopped in front of a ratty-looking door. Inside, he flipped on the light.

Alice blinked, staring at the buckets in the corner and the shelves lined with stacks of toilet paper, towels, and cleaning supplies. The sharp scent of bleach hit her nose. “A broom closet?” Was he playin’ with her?

“The last place you’d look for an interdimensional doorway, right?” Addison bowed and waved her in. “After you, milady.”

Shaking her head, Alice stepped into the narrow space.

Addison followed, shutting the door behind them. Then he took a moment to strap a sword Alice hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying—he was always pulling things out of the air—onto his back. It wasn’t the big Fuck Off black one, but it looked dangerous enough. “Okay, the next bit is a tad . . . intense. It’s probably best if you hold on to me.”

Alice blinked. “Hold on to you.”

“The first time through can be a bit rough.”

“Um.” She cleared her throat before swallowing thickly. “All right. How should I—” She stepped forward, lifting an arm to wrap around his shoulders mindful of the sheath. “Like this?”

He nodded, watching her with those slightly shimmering eyes. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, so long as you’ve got a good grip.”

“Right.” Alice stepped in a little closer, trying to concentrate on anything but how he smelled faintly of spiced rum, cologne, and something sweet she couldn’t place.

His arm slipped under hers, hooking around her back. The other reached out to flip the switch, plunging them into darkness.

“Last chance to back down,” he murmured, his lips near her ear. “You’ve accomplished a lot. No one will think less of you.”

She couldn’t say she hadn’t thought about walking away—he was talking about fighting monsters—but she wanted this. Needed it. She shook her head, then nodded quickly. “No, no, I’m ready.”

“Here we go,” he warned. His voice rippled through her.

The ground dropped, and a sudden sense of falling yanked her stomach against her diaphragm. She screamed, the sound lost to a howl of wind and thunder. Her heart thrashed in her chest. Her hair slapped at her cheeks and ears. She latched on to Addison.

I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!

Light burst across her vision. She shut her eyes against the sting and buried her face in Addison’s chest. His arms tightened around her. His hand cupped the back of her head. The shrieking rush grew louder, drowning out the pounding in her ears.

She whimpered. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease . . .

When solid ground pushed up beneath her feet, her knees buckled. She would’ve dropped if not for the arms holding her up.

Everything in her stomach curdled, her last meal climbing toward the back of her throat. Shoving away from Addison, she stumbled across the floor toward what looked like a rosebush and threw up everything in her gut.

“Oh god,” she groaned between retches.

A hand pressed between her shoulders. Addison knelt beside her, his brow furrowed. “Told you it would be rough.”

“Rough? No, Mondays are rough. The first few days of your period are rough. That?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Was three kinds of hell.” She groaned again, spitting to clear her mouth of that coppery taste. “Uck.”

“Here.” Addison offered one of the vials. “You can rinse your mouth out.”

She snatched the vial. “You coulda warned me I’d puke all over the place.”

“Didn’t expect you would.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t have helped, anyway.”

She tipped the rim against her lips. The liquid was cool and minty with a hint of . . . banana? After swishing thoroughly, she spit it out at the roots of the rosebush as well, and was wiping her mouth when she realized those weren’t roses.

It was definitely a bush, though the coloring was off, more blue than green, but the bursts of red she thought were flowers were actually little orbs of what she could describe only as fluffy light. The tufts glistened softly, shivering as they hovered close together. Alice stared, filled with a sudden want to see what they felt like, but also an understanding that touching random shit is how people lose fingers.

“That is a Flit.” Addison stood and offered her a hand. “They grow here in the Glow.”

“The—” Alice took his hand, glanced up, and froze.

They stood on one side of a marble terrace, the surface opalescent. Pillars cut from the same material encircled the structure, giving it the look of an ancient, open temple. At the center, the very air had split but was falling closed with a sucking sputter. The world filled in the open space, leaving the structure whole. It shone, reflecting the light from the forest surrounding it. From the trees’ silver bark to their sparkling leaves, everything glistened as if spun from glass.

“Glow,” Addison finished. He guided Alice along the terrace. The clap of their shoes resonated outward. The pillars hummed faintly in response, like massive tuning forks. The sound rose into the air and then fizzled out as they moved down a set of steps to the ground below.

Addison shifted around in front of her, and she looked to him, her eyes widening. Her breath caught, just as it had the night they met. Everything about him had changed and yet . . . not. He was brighter, his skin moon-kissed, his hair more pale than moss green now. It stood up a bit instead of pressing against his head. And his eyes, now more silver than gray, glowed gold at their center.

His smile was exactly the same, though, stretching his face in that way that always left her feeling warm. He swept his hand out in a wide gesture. “Welcome to Wonderland.”

TWO

BEYOND THE VEIL

She held on to Addison, her eyes wide, her mouth open. He’d tried to describe Wonderland a few times, but always wound up saying it was like talking about a memory that was half-forgotten: a dream faded at the edges of your mind but somehow whole in your heart. None of it made sense until now.

He led her farther along, an amused twist to his lips. She didn’t walk so much as shuffle. Their steps stirred the mist creeping along the ground. It crawled over the white grass and hung just beneath the silver branches in a few places.

“Beautiful.” She looked to him, then to the forest again. Actually, she looked everywhere she could—this place was incredible.

“This is Wimble-Di’Glow Woods, though most just call it the Glow.” Squeezing her hand, he turned them around to face the pillared platform. “That’s the Gateway. It’s closed at the moment, and now you must defend it from Nightmares seeking to enter your world. With my help, of course.”

“Oh, right.” A shiver slid like an icy finger down the curve of her spine, banishing the joy that had been bubbling up. The mention of the monsters sunk like a stone in her gut. “Are we here to stop one?” She hated the slight tremble in her voice.

He nodded. “Small one. Not far. I said you were ready, and I meant it.”

Oh shit.

This was really happening. She was really here. They were going to do this.

This is what you wanted.

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.

This. Is. What. You. Wanted.

“Everything all right?” Addison watched her from nearby, a single eyebrow arched.

“Fine. I’m fine.” A deep breath helped calm the flurry of anxiety skittering through her. A little.

“We can go back if you don’t think—”

“I said I’m fine.” Though the fearful flutter in her chest was distracting.

His other brow shot up to join the first one. “Very well.”

She didn’t mean to put that much bass in her voice, but she had to hold on to this. But what if she didn’t come back? No. No, she had to do this. But her body wouldn’t listen to her. She just stood there, frozen.

“Do you remember why it’s best to slay a Nightmare before it crosses into your world?” Addison asked, those multicolored eyes still on her.

Alice nodded. Of course she knew. They’d gone over it a hundred times. Humans were the source of a Nightmare’s strength, and the closer the beasties got to people, the more powerful they became.

Humans were the source of everything, really. Wonderland was the literal world of dreams. Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep dreams. Good dreams made this world healthy. Bad dreams messed it up. Get enough bad in one place and poof! Nightmare. Maybe not poof. And nightmares . . . affected people.

Folk might not see the monsters themselves, but they sure saw the end result. On the news, reports about someone snapping and killing their whole family, or shooting up their job for no reason? Yeah, people were still messed up, dudes not able to take no for an answer, KKK mofos, the “lone wolf” bullshit, all that mess . . . but sometimes? Nightmare. And she was here to face one.

Oh god.

“Can you tell me?” Addison’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Alice swallowed thickly, her fingers twisting around each other. Something bitter coated the back of her throat. “Um, s-so they don’t get bigger.”

“Good.” He tilted his head to one side then slowly to the other as he spoke. “And what is it that actually kills a Nightmare?”

She pressed her shaky hand to one of the pommels at her side.

“That’s just part of the equation.” His fingers folded over hers, his touch light but warm. “Remember?”

Part of—? A combination of her growing fear and Addison being so close filled her mind, but his words from earlier rang clear in her ears. “M-Muchness.”

“Right. What’s in here.” He gently tapped the tip of one ringed finger against her forehead, then her chest. “And in here. You are the one thing capable of ending a Nightmare’s terror for good, and now you stand between them and their goal. If there is anything to fear here, it’s you.”

As Addison’s words poured over her frenzied thoughts like water over coals, the thumping between her ears began to fade. “Me?”

“You.” His hands fell to her shoulders, squeezing gently. “But only if you believe you can do this. I think you’re ready; do you?”

Alice continued to breathe deep, in through her nose, out through her mouth. In and out, in and out. Seconds ticked by. She even counted a few in her head. Gradually, the pressure behind her eyes lessened. The wild dancing of her heart evened out. The buzzing in her limbs subsided.

“I can do this,” she whispered. “I can do this.” Louder this time.

Addison smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know. Let’s go.” He turned to lead the way farther into the bright haze of the Glow.

With another deep breath she followed him, now able to fully concentrate on taking in the . . . well, the wonder of it all. Every so often, tiny, hazy arms and legs materialized in the branches, accompanied by bell-like laughter. She jumped a couple times, even took a swing at something bright blue that dipped in front of her face.

Addison laughed.

“Hey, it was a reflex.”

“Few things here will harm you.” He paused, angling his head back. “Intentionally, that is.”

“So comforting.” Some of the tension melted from her muscles. She half listened to Addison’s tips as they went along.

“Remember to keep your core tight when you move, especially when you jump or dodge.”

Maintain your grip. Eyes on your opponent. All stuff she’d heard before.

“And, I haven’t mentioned this before, but you’ll need to adjust for your newfound speed and strength. It’ll be—”

“Wait, my what?” She blinked at him.

“When a trainee crosses the Veil for the first time, the same essence that feeds this place empowers them, enhancing their natural abilities and bestowing a few new ones.” Addison continued on, leaving Alice staring after him. “That’s when, and how, you become a Dreamwalker.”

“Wait, wait wait wait, wait.” She hurried to catch up with him. “You never said anything about superpowers.” She was hearing this right, right? That’s what he was talking about, right?

“It only happens if you cross the Veil, so there was no need to mention it before, in case you decided not to.”

“Uh, I kinda think superpowers are something you bring up when training to fight monsters.”

“I didn’t want to influence your decision in any way. Crossing was your choice to make.”

She looked to her hands as they moved along. “I don’t feel any different.”

“You will. Trust me.”

She curled and uncurled her fingers, grinning a little. Cool. Dad would flip if he knew she was pretty much a superhero now. Only, he would never know.

Her vision blurred, and that hollow place in her chest deepened. No. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. Not here. Not now. She couldn’t come apart here.

She smoothed her hands over her hair, fingers catching the coils a couple times. That trip had blown her hair all over the place, so she worked it into the large ponytail holder she always kept on her wrist. She stole a glance at Addison, who looked to be caught up in searching their surroundings for something. If he noticed her brief break, he didn’t say anything.

“So, what else haven’t you told me about this place?” She waved a hand. “Not wanting to ‘influence me’ or whatever.”

“I can’t very well tell you everything. Wonderland is as wide as your world and as immense as the human imagination.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Uh-huh. So this is you sayin’ you don’t know everything.” A corner of her lips lifted.

“What I’m saying is your training covered a lot, but ‘there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”

Alice snorted. “You know poetry don’t work on me, right?”

Addison grinned. “I’m simply saying there’s a lot here. A lot of history. A lot of . . . complications.” His tone dipped around that last word. “And I’m here to be your partner and tour guide all rolled into one. And that wasn’t poetry.”

“You know what I mean.” She wanted to ask what he meant by complications, but they’d reached the end of the Glow. At least, she assumed they did, because everything was suddenly less bright.

A meadow opened before them; a sea of tall grass—or what looked like grass—waved back and forth in the night. The color shifted in a gradient of pink and yellow. Purple clouds drifted overhead, rimmed in silver, and bloated from soaking up moonlight. Blue moonlight. The moon was freaking blue.

“Wow,” Alice whispered, stepping forward. The grass brushed against her thighs. She could feel the tickle through her jeans. She was so focused on the sky, the moon, that when a luminescent blue blob bounced out of the grass, she yelped and stumbled back.

Addison laughed.

Alice puffed her cheeks, trying to ignore the burn in them. She slugged him in the shoulder, which only made him laugh harder. “It’s not funny.”

“No.” He snickered, trying to breathe. “It’s hilarious. And these little guys are harmless. Frubbles. They just want to play.”

She rubbed her arm as a few more Froo-bles, Frubbles, whatever, rolled around at her feet, shining different colors. “Play?”

“Yeah. They’re like puppies. Round, glowing puppies. Just run, you’ll see.” He smiled, those dimples appearing again. “Go on,” he urged when she hesitated. “Fast as you can.”

She looked to the Frubbles, then to the meadow. It was about a hundred yards or so to the next tree line, which wasn’t as bright as the Glow. With a quick breath, she took off, crossed ten yards in a burst of speed that shook her core, and promptly tripped over her own feet. “Whoa!”

She hit the dirt with a whuff as all the air was pushed out of her lungs. “Uggghhhh.” Cold from the ground seeped through her jeans and her shirt. She shivered and struggled to her knees, then hugged herself to ward off the nighttime chill. The rich smell of damp earth mingled with the sharp scent of moss and fresh water from somewhere nearby.

Addison knelt beside her. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Though her torso ached a bit, but the pain was already starting to fade. “I didn’t—I was so fast, I couldn’t keep up with my damn self. How does that even work?”

“Heh, told you you’d feel it.” He offered her a hand up. “Try again.”

Alice took a second to gather herself, flexing her arms, shifting her legs. The Frubbles rolled about in the grass, trilling softly like birds. She grinned. They were so cute!

Okay. She glanced across the meadow again. Super speed. Well, not super, just faster. I can handle this. With a deep breath, she pushed into a run. Slower at first, getting a feel for her Wonder-legs? Now that was corny.

She stumbled a bit, but didn’t fall. She turned at the tree line and kept going. Faster now. Faster. Faster! Luminescent blobs bounced out of the thigh-high grass, racing beside her, surfing the meadow like dolphins. The Frubbles trilled cheerfully, dipping in and out of her path, arcing through the air like shiny beach balls.

She pushed into a full run, her head buzzing as her chest heaved. Her legs and arms pumped. Wind swept over her face and through her hair. She whooped and kept going until she pushed off into a jump. Her momentum carried her forward, propelled her up.

“Whoa!” Her arms and legs flailed, throwing off her center of gravity. She managed to get her feet under her before hitting the ground and tumbling to a stop.

On her back again, she stared at the starless sky and the moon overhead. Her muscles sung, jerking here and there. Her nerves were alight. She laughed and whooped again, panting.

The Frubbles rolled back and forth beside her, cooing like doves. She patted a pink one gently, her hand black against its shine, gliding across the smooth surface. Sitting up, she glanced around for signs of Addison when an odd sort of pressure slid along her limbs, like dozens of tapping fingers. Goose bumps prickled her flesh. The Frubbles gave high-pitched trills before darting away into the grass.

“Um . . . okay.”

“Alice?”

“Over here.” She brushed herself off, glancing around. She was at the edge of the forest across from the Glow. It was much darker. Shadows filled the trees. Tangled branches and vines choked the canopy, keeping the moonlight at bay.

Alice tensed when she thought she saw something move out of the corner of her eye and scanned the undergrowth.

“Alice?” Addison called again.

She lifted a hand out of the grass and waved, not wanting to shout again. Something was out there. Her senses strained to take in everything they could.

The forest remained still, quiet enough for her to hear the wind sweep through with a low, heavy whuush. Whuush.

Not wind. Breathing.

Movement to her left.

Oh shit. She pushed to her feet, scrambling back from the forest just as a roar shattered the quiet like an air horn. Her ears rang. Her bones rattled.

“Alice!” Addison was racing toward her when the Nightmare burst from the brush, looking like a hippo with more limbs than a squid.

The beast charged. She twisted out of the way, barely avoiding a swipe of claws. She screamed, fear jolting through her as she tried to get her legs to work.

“Alice!” Addison stood a short ways off, gold eyes wide and dancing between her and the Nightmare. “You can do this!” He gripped the hilt of the sword at his back but hadn’t pulled it free yet.

“It’s too big!” She backed away from the Nightmare as it lumbered around, looking between her and Addison as if trying to decide which of them to eat first. She shook her head, feeling the sting of tears. “It’s too much!”

“But you are much more!” He sidestepped, putting distance between them, drawing the monster’s attention. It sniffed the air and growled, turning to focus completely on him. “You can beat it. You trained for this. You’re faster, stronger than you know.”

Alice whimpered, shaking her head. She drew back a few more steps, her whole body cold and shaking.

The beast charged Addison. Alice’s heart practically uppercut her it jumped so hard, but Addison spun out of the way, unsheathing a sword and slicing across the beast’s side in the same move. The monster roared. Yellow blood spattered the tall grass.

Addison slid into a ready stance, his weapon lifted, the silvery blade shining against the night.

“We can go back,” Addison called without taking his eyes off the beast. He dodged again, rolling under a swipe of claws. “I can stop it, and we can wait for it to re-form. Try again later.”

No no no. Alice lifted her trembling hands to the sides of her face. How could she suck so bad at something she trained so hard to do? But she couldn’t. It was too much.

Breathe, Baby Moon. Dad’s voice filled her head. It did that a lot lately, memories of him laughing with her, talking to her, chastising her. The tears spilled free and she shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered.

Breathe.

“I can’t.”

Breathe . . .

“I’ll try.”

Ain’t no try. You know that. What you gone do?

Alice’s hands fell to the daggers at her hips. She palmed the pommels before gripping them tight and yanking them free. Azure moonlight filled the crystalline surfaces of the blades.

Across the meadow, Addison fended off a swipe of claws, the shriek of grating metal filling the air. He leaped back and shot a glance Alice’s way. Their eyes met.

What you gone do?

Her fingers tightened their hold on the daggers. Something swept through her, pushed outward from the center of her chest to the top of her head and the soles of her feet. “This. I’mma do this.”

The Nightmare whipped around to face her. It loosed a roar and pounded the ground with its feet.

Alice adjusted her weight, then pushed off into a run. The smell of grass and dirt snapped crisp against her senses. Her steps thudded against the ground, mirroring the pounding of her heart, a storm in her chest. She darted across the meadow, coming around the monster’s flank. It stood out against the black, her vision sharpening. Before the Nightmare could turn to take her head-on, she jumped.

“Aim for the core!” Addison’s voice reached her above the scream of wind in her ears.

The Figment Blades burned against the night. Their fire stampeded up her arms, filling her, fueling her, igniting something inside her that would never dim again.

As she came down on the beast, she tightened her grip and threw her weight into the thrust. The monster roared.

So did she.

They collided.

THREE

DREAMWALKER

One year later . . .

Alice dropped into a slide as a barbed tail lashed through the air overhead. The Nightmare, a massive thing with a rhino’s body and spindly, almost-human arms sticking up from its back, tumbled past. She twisted out of the slide and caught her balance in a crouch before exploding forward to drive her dagger at the monster’s side. The blade glanced off with a crack like striking stone. Armored hide. She spun outside another swing of the tail and leaped, aiming to land atop the creature. It swatted her aside like a gnat instead of her tall-ass self.

The impact robbed her of breath and the ability to scream when a white-hot throb lanced up her arm. She hit the ground in a roll, then twisted out of it, her knees on fire. Blood ran warm and slick where claws had torn into her forearm.

“Dammit.” She swapped her weapon to her other hand, shifting to shield her wound. “Hatta!” Her eyes flickered between the monster and the treetops. Where was he?

The Nightmare howled and came at her again.

Every inkling of self-preservation shouted to jump, dive, get out of the way. At the last instant she jerked to the side. The beast crashed into a tree, tearing it up from the roots. Wood groaned and snapped. Leaves shivered and fell like rain. Blue moonlight spilled into the clearing.

Alice ducked a spindly, talon-tipped arm. She jabbed the dagger into the rippling flesh of the monster’s underbelly and yanked. Something wet, thick, and rank spilled over her hand. She gritted her teeth and pushed.

Come . . . on . . .

The knife sank farther into the creature and, with a snap and hiss, pierced its core.

Yes! A thrill blazed through Alice. She smiled. That’s right, you sonuva—

The Nightmare loosed a keening cry and lashed out, slicing into the trees and scoring the earth. Alice shuffled aside, dagger ready as her target staggered, limbs twisting, body buckling. The creature collapsed inward like crumbling stone. Its wounds popped and fizzed, spewing yellow goop across the dirt and onto her shoes.

“Augh.” She danced backward and wobbled as she shook each foot. Too late—the pus had already soaked into the material. “Really? Really.” Another pair of kicks ruined. Along with her good mood. “Perfect.” She couldn’t afford a new pair of shoes right now! Or jeans. And asking her mother was not happening. Who knew being a superhero meant going broke.

Pop. The body started to dissolve. She pinched her nose against the stink, which no doubt clung to her, thick and gross.

As she wiped the dagger on her already-ruined jeans, a second shadow dropped from the branches of a nearby tree. She whirled, body sliding into a defensive stance, weapons up.

“Easy, luv.” Silhouetted in shadow, Hatta’s face was hidden, but Alice knew he was smiling. Bastard was always smiling. “It’s just me.”

Alice straightened and glowered at him. “It’s just me,” she mimicked, scrunching her nose and pitching her voice higher. Releasing a heavy breath, she sheathed the blades and tilted against the toppled tree to assess her injuries.

Her legs throbbed but held. Scuffed knees peeked through holes in her pants, stinging with each subtle movement. A torn sleeve revealed nearly invisible slices in her dark brown skin. They burned and bled a fluorescent green mixed with deep red as her body expelled toxins from the Nightmare’s claws. One of the actual perks of being a Dreamwalker, along with getting to stab things, not some bull like “the honor of serving her fellow man.” Was her fellow man gone pay for a new pair of Converse? Or keep her mom from wringing her neck if she got this crap on the carpet?

Didn’t think so.

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Hatta gestured to her arm as he approached. The rings on his fingers glittered. “May I?”

She snorted and thrust the injury toward him. “Where the hell were you?”

“Close.” His long fingers curled around her wrist, their press gentle as he inspected the wound, his head bowed slightly. In the Wonderland light his moss green hair paled, the wavy strands clinging to his forehead and face. His white skin shone like polished porcelain.

“Close,” she repeated, hoping the darkness concealed her flushed state. He’d know, though. Hatta had this way of knowing when he was getting under her skin. Usually, she was annoyed, but sometimes? Sometimes heat filled her face, her palms prickled, and her stomach tried to wedge itself between her lungs. Like now as he traced the edge of one of the cuts with a gray-painted fingernail.

“I was ready to jump in if needed.” He glanced up. His eyes practically glowed. Over time she’d noticed the gray wasn’t just one color but a mix of different flecks and dabs, like stained glass at sunset. Weird but gorgeous, and god, she was weak. And sappy. And staring. And he was smiling again.

“Uh-huh.” Alice withdrew her hand, certain he’d feel her rising temperature or heartbeat in her wrist. “So helpful, considering you said we were after a Chihuahua, then ran into a pit bull.”

“That . . . was unexpected. I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, slouching a bit. “But you’re strong, adaptable. I could tell you had things handled.”

Okay, so that lifted her mood somewhat. She smirked. “Thanks.” He hadn’t even brought his sword, so he must’ve really thought she had this.

“And my plan worked.” He glanced at the Nightmare