Huntsman's Prey (17 page)

As far as track records went, Aeric had never really had a good one when it came to the opposite sex. But ever since leaving her, and subsequently discovering she’d been abducted and had who knew what done to her, he realized he liked her more than he’d cared to admit before.

But kindness had always betrayed him in the past. A lesson he’d sworn he’d finally learned with Claudia. And while his brain screamed that going to her right now would only lead him down the same path he’d stupidly followed before, he couldn’t stop himself either.

Rumpel had been right, he was a sucker, and what was worse, he knew it.

Shoving to his feet, clamping down on the inside of his cheek, he walked to Lissa. Refusing to think it through, because if he did, he’d walk away. He sat beside her and drew her slight body into the shelter of his arms.

She crawled onto him with the grace of a cat, and rubbed her cheek over and over into his chest.

Touching her now took on a different meaning. Ever since the thought that he’d lost her, having her here, in his arms now… his body craved her in a way he hadn’t craved a woman in a long, long time.

She whimpered.

“Lissa?” He kissed the top of her cheek, unable to stop himself. “What can I do?”

Shaking her hand, she fisted his shirt and sighed. “You’re doing it already, Aeric.”

Blood rushed to his cock as she shifted on his lap, biting down on his tongue he stifled a groan. Seduction couldn’t happen, not now, there were too many questions. Too many things that just weren’t adding up. Things he needed to ask her, he needed to let her go. Needed some space.

But his arms didn’t open.

“Why did you come back for me?” she asked softly, just a whisper of sound in the quiet lull of a sleeping forest.

He sighed. To say it out loud, that he’d dreamed she’d been in danger sounded ridiculous. But she obviously needed to hear something.

Moving, so that she was now straddling him. She wrapped her arms and legs around his waist; her breathing began to grow more settled then.

But not his.

His heart raced, adrenaline pumped through every vein in his body. She had to feel his thickness pressing against her warmth.

Gods, he was aware of her on an almost visceral level. The smell of her, like the clean freshness of a spring rain, saturated his senses. Lissa always smelled of the world she lived in.

The night was thick, the shadows unmoving and it was so easy to close his eyes, drop his nose into the lush softness of her wavy hair and take her scent deep into his lungs.

But she waited for his answer. “I’m failing, Lissa,” he finally murmured against her forehead.

She pulled back just slightly, enough to be able to gaze into his eyes. “How so?”

Tunneling blunt fingers through his hair, he stared off into the darkness. “I’ve not come any closer to finding, Chrysalis. I’m feeling completely inept in this strange land. At this point you must assume I’m useless at best, and a complete imbecile at worst.” His eyes touched back on hers.

The starlight inside them danced and swirled like a snowdrift in a cold winter breeze. He couldn’t seem to help but touch her. Some compulsion inside him demanded he brush his fingers along the length of her razor sharp cheekbones. Touching her was like trying to grab hold of lightning. Volts of raw power seemed to explode from her flesh into his, and he sucked in a sharp breath, as for a split second, his world came unbalanced.

Tiny fingers latched onto his. “And does my opinion of you really matter?”

She pulled his hand down off her face, but kept them entwined. Lissa was looking at him with the type of focus that demanded an answer.

“It shouldn’t.”

“But does it?”

He hoped she could read the meaning of a look. Hoped that she could look into his eyes and see what he couldn’t yet say. Because this was utter nonsense. The way he felt for her, the intensity he had to get her back safely, to the detriment of his own quest. Why? His jaw clenched.

She feathered fingertips along the scruff of his jaw and the starlight in her eyes danced. Nodding slowly, even though he hadn’t answered her question, she gave him a soft smile. “Have you eaten yet?”

Lissa hadn’t asked for further explanation, hadn’t demanded more than he could give. And a giant wave of relief flooded him.

“No, but whatever Pillar made me drink, I feel full.”

“You have to tell me what happened.”

“You mean you don’t have any recollection, whatsoever? Still?”

She rubbed the back of her head. “All I remember is you leaving me, within, I want to say a minute, something came up on me from behind and there was excruciating pain, and then nothing.”

“Lissa, there was a trail of blood and fur. Your blood and fur,” he said for added emphasis.

She winced. “I can remember none of that. Only what happened to me once you arrived. I remember you whispering my name, and then we were here.” She shrugged.

“It makes no sense to me,” he growled, the frustration mounting up again, “none of this is making any sense. It seems no matter what I do, where I turn, I’m constantly pitted up against one thing or another. I’ve been to Wonderland before—”

“Yes,” she agreed, “a long time ago. Things have changed, we talked about that.”

“No,” he shook his head, resuming his up and down caress of her arms, needing to feel a connection to her in some way, “it’s more than that, Lissa. There was always chaos, and I agree with you that things have changed, but Wonderland was never this dangerous. It was mad, and nonsensical, but it seems to be actively trying to kill us. Can this land do that?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve never experienced this either. I’ve lived here all my life and it does seem to be worse since I met you.”

“Why do you think that is?” He peered deep into her hypnotic, cat shaped eyes.

“I wish I knew. Maybe if you tell me where I was at when you found me, maybe that could help.” She spread her hands wide.

“The caterpillar’s bar.” He shrugged. “A rotten, gray structure full of sound and music and liquor.”

“Caterpillar’s bar?” Her brows dipped. “I don’t understand. I’ve never heard of it.”

“I don’t know if it was actually called that, but you’ve never seen it? Really?”

“No,” she sounded frustrated.

“Well do you know the woman who ran it? Pillar? She had a smushed face, bug feelers on her head, and a massive dress that I’m almost positive was actually her body.” He shuddered. “She forced me to drink something there.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “It tasted like death. Green and thick and vile. I could hardly see for a while afterward.”

“And now?” she asked touching the corner of his eye.

He grabbed her hand. “Now I feel fine. But something did happen to me after I drank it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Things look different. You, this land.” He jerked his hand. “Not as bizarre as before. Things look almost normal. I’d say I was poisoned, but I really do feel fine now.”

She frowned.

“Do you know the woman, Lissa? Or what I drank? Do you know any of it? Pillar told me she was paid to get me to drink it. That’s bothering me more than anything. Who paid her? Why?”

“You don’t feel sick?”

He shook his head.

“Then maybe she lied. Maybe she was careless with her words.”

“No. I don’t believe that. Pillar is many things, but I never got the sense that she’s careless. She had you locked away. Whoever she is, and whatever that was that I drank, I feel like I was supposed to go there. Like it wasn’t an accident but part of some plan…something,” he finished with an impassioned growl.

The confusion in her gaze was more than obvious, but her touch was gentle, almost tender. “But we’re not there anymore, and we’re both fine. So whatever that was, it’s over now.”

He wasn’t so sure of that. “It’s bothersome that I feel like I should have figured this out by now. Nothing makes sense, and yet for some reason I keep feeling like the answer is literally in here.” He tapped his head. “I just can’t seem to recognize it.”

“Do you think it’s Chrysalis?” she asked and when he frowned, she rushed on to say, “the attacks, all those sinkholes all around, Pillar, the drink… doesn’t it all seem somehow—”

“Connected?” he supplied for her and nodded. “Yes. But who is Chrysalis really? Besides being the daughter of the Hatter and Alice, what can she do? Does she really have this kind of power? I was led to believe when I took this assignment that she was mindless, incapable of reason, just a mindless killer.”

“No one really knows what she is, but I don’t believe she’s mindless.” She shrugged. “I’ve seen her. We’ve all seen her, here and there, like a phantom in the night. The moonlight seems to be when she’s most active, strongest.”

“How long have you seen her?”

By Danika’s reckoning, Chrysalis had only just escaped, but something about the way Lissa worded that made him sense otherwise.

“For years she’s roamed these forests.”

His lips turned down. “You mentioned that earlier, but it still doesn’t make sense to me. She’s been locked away in Hatter’s gardens. She escaped only just a few nights past.”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “I’m telling you she’s been misting through these woods since she was but a little girl.”

“But surely Danika would know that?” His voice grew thick with annoyance.

She jerked as if slapped. “It is the truth.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m just irritated. Something about all of this feels wrong. And now I’ve lost the only weapon Danika gave me to contain her. I am not sure whether to continue searching for her or to turn back. I’m frustrated with myself mainly. But not with you and I’m sorry if I’m making you feel that way.”

Suddenly fidgety, Lissa nibbled on a corner of her lip and glanced down between them.

“What’s the matter?” He tipped her chin up.

“I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this or not, but if it could help, then…” she sighed, “I’ve noticed something strange these past few days. Something that at first felt very random and not of much importance, until I saw it again, just today.”

“What?”

She shook her head. “A scrap of blue fabric.” Snorting, she rolled her eyes. “I know that might not sound like much, but she’s always wearing that same blue dress and the color was very similar. I didn’t think much of it when I first saw it because she’s not the only one to wear dresses, but the scraps almost seem to be placed in a way that I
should
notice it.”

“When was the first time you saw it?” His voice grew thick with curiosity, because this could definitely be a link.

“The morning you woke up surrounded by sink holes.” She looked at him pointedly. “At first I thought nothing of the little fluttery threads, but then I saw it again and again. And just before I passed out, I saw something that could maybe be another scrap, just there in those trees.” She pointed beyond his shoulder.

He turned to look.

“No, it’s not there anymore. I already know. It’s the first thing I looked for when I awoke.”

Eyes narrowing, Aeric turned back to her. “Are you sure?”

“Not a hundred percent, but I’m pretty positive.” She nibbled on the corner of her lip looking flustered and unsure.

“What are you saying, Lissa? Is she following us? Can you smell her?”

“Smell her?” she chuckled softly, “I told you, I’m not really a cat. I have excellent night vision, but I can’t smell any better than you, I’d imagine. But it’s possible that she is. Do you think it’s a coincidence that I saw threads on the morning of the sinkholes? Call me superstitious, but each time I see one, something terrible seems to happen immediately afterward.”

“But if it is Chrysalis, why would she be leaving such an obvious clue that she’s tracking us?”

“I think she wants to scare us off. Show us that she knows exactly where we’re at.” Lissa clung tighter to him. “Do you think something is going to happen tonight?” she whispered.

“With what’s been happening so far, I could believe it. Are you feeling okay to walk?”

“Yes, why?”

“Maybe now that you’re awake, we should leave. If those scraps of clothing do herald some form of disaster, I’ve no desire to hang around and see.”

“But if it does, and those belong to Chrysalis, than isn’t our best chance at capturing her by waiting here?”

He’d never admit it out loud, but hearing her say we pulled a quick smile to his lips.

“Not without some way to capture her without harming her. I’ve no wish to kill her, and without the net that Danika provided, the only way to bring her down would be to kill her. I’ve killed enough in my life; I’m not the murdering bastard the tales would make me out to be. Unless of course if Rumpelstiltskin came back. Him, I might make an exception for.”

Her lips twitched for a second. “But if she’s as mad and wild as they say, then isn’t that exactly what we should do, for the safety of all?”

Aeric had no problem killing, he’d done it many times in the past, whether under his Queen’s directives, or for meat. But he’d never been one to enjoy killing innocents. It was why The Evil Queen had eventually let him loose, she’d never forgiven him for letting Snow White escape. “I looked into her eyes, Lissa. There is something there, an alertness of some sort. My gut tells me she can be saved.”

“Do you really?”

The one thing Aeric had always relied on was his instinct. His ability to know when killing was wrong. And in this case, it was very, very wrong.

So far it’d served him well. “Yes, I really do.”

“Then what’s the plan? Without your tool, I don’t see how.”

“You followed me that day, Lissa. You also say you’ve seen Chrysalis walk about for years, cats are intrinsically curious, are they not?”

Her eyes smiled.

“You know Wonderland like the back of your hand, you once said. So you must know where she’s keeping them.”

“She’s like a ghost, Aeric. I catch glimpses, but I’ve never been able to truly follow her.”

He shrugged. “You don’t have to to know where she stores her treasures.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.