Malice in Wonderland (24 page)

“Let’s get you in the truck so you don’t freeze to death out here,” he said softly, showing me to the passenger side of the Suburban. “And then you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“What about Bram’s Porsche?”

“It’ll be fine here for the time being,” Knight answered dismissively
.

Knight opened my door and I stepped up onto the running board before turning to face him again. Without any warning, he leaned forward and
pulled
me into him. Dropping his head toward me, I closed my eyes and tasted his lips on mine. The kiss was sweet and soft at first. Then I felt his tongue suddenly trying to thrust past my lips as his embrace tightened. 

I closed my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, meeting his thrusting tongue. I was overcome with the need to be close to him more than I’d ever felt it before. That was when it hit me that although Knight and I had had our differences and our miscommunications, Knight had only ever done what he thought was right and, what was more, he’d been able to see the error in his ways. Even though he’d been led down the wrong road in believing I was guilty of being in cahoots with my father, he’d also realized his mistake and repented for it.

And, what was more, Knight was really the only man I could turn to, the only man I’d ever been able to turn to.
Quillan
and Bram had both disappointed me by involving themselves with the illegal potion industry and worse still, with my father. But Knight was always true to himself. Granted, we still were at odds on some s
ubjects, and I couldn’t say
I condoned his keeping my father’s identity from me; but now I understood that he thou
ght he was just protecting me. And even w
hen he
’d
arrested me for working under my father,
it was just another example of how he refused to
compromise his values and beliefs of right and wrong. He did the only thing he thought was right. Plus, he did what I would have done if I were in his shoes, and
believed
he was importing illegal potions.

At the end of the day, Knight was the same person now that he was when I first met him. He was just as confident, caring, and determined to see good prevail. To be honest, Knight was exactly the same
person now that
he was when I fell in love with him, many months ago.

I pulled away from him and
smiled,
even as I realized there was entirely too much on both of our shoulders at the moment for us to try and pick up the pieces of our relationship in order to put them back together again. But I supposed it was a good omen that somewhere in my over-crammed and overwhelmed head, I was sure that I wanted things between Knight and me to go back to how they were before. I wanted us to be … us again.

“We have lots to talk about,” I said simply as I hoisted myself into the passenger seat. Knight nodded and closed my door. I put my seatbelt on and watched him
open his
door as he focused his eyes on me.

“It’s about an hour’s drive to get back to Compound Four, so we’ll have a little time,” he said. He took his seat and put the Suburban in drive, exiting the Vons parking lot.

“Knight, you’re now in charge of The Resistance,” I began
, figuring i
t would take me at least an hour to tell him everything. Never mind the myriad questions Knight was sure to have.

“What?” he asked incredulously.
I saw
a look of worry in his eyes before he returned his attention to the road that led back to the freeway. “Christina?”

“She’s fine,” I said quickly, while shaking my head
, r
ealizing how awful my statement must’ve sounded. I explained about Christina and the
Blueliss
and
told him
I learned the truth at
Culligan’s
graveyard. I finished by insisting that I believed Christina was safe with Bram.

“So, Bram’s been working for your father all this time?” Knight asked, his lips drawn into a tight line.

“Yes, but that’s not important now. What matters now is what we do to move forward.”

“The little bastard,” Knight said as he shook his head. Taking a deep breath and sighing loudly, he began to nod, saying, “You’re right, we need to concentrate on our next steps.” Glancing at me, he added, “And for whatever it’s worth, it did mean something to know that Bram wanted to make sure you were safe. I guess, in the end, he isn’t as much of a little bastard as I’d like to think.”

I nodded my agreement, watching us merge onto the 101
North
. Getting my thoughts in some semblance of order, I turned to face him. Our next steps were suddenly as clear as day to me. “Knight, there’s no time for us to wait any longer. Where The Resistance is concerned, the time for talking is over.” He eyed me and chewed his lip as he considered my statement. When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “My father knows too much now and it will only be a matter of time before he learns he can’t count on Bram or Christina, which means he can’t discover anymore of our secrets. Then he’s sure to get desperate, and things will go from bad to worse.”

“So, my second in command, what do you propose we do?” Knight asked with a slight smile on his lips.

I returned the smile and nodded. I knew what our next steps should, no
had
,
to be. “We need to rally our troops and invade the Netherworld … now.”

Knight didn’t say anything for a second or two, but just stared at the empty freeway ahead of us. Then he smiled at me.

“Melchior O’Neil, here we come.”

BONUS DULCIE & KNIGHT SHORT STORY!

For all of you who couldn’t find the anthology, Kiss Me, Kill Me, with the
Dulcie
and Knight short story, I’ve included it for you here!

A Ghoulish Valentine

By H.P. Mallory
 

It was Valentine’s Day, or night, to be exact. And I actually had a date. (It’s not like I’m a heinous troll who couldn’t get a date if she tried, I just choose not to. Furthermore, there’s nothing
trollish
about me—I’m a fairy.) Now, before you start telling me how great your garden is and how your lilies are in full bloom or what an awesome movie
Peter Pan
was…I’m not that kind of a fairy. I don’t have wings and I’m not the size of a humming bird (i.e., I’m not a pixie). While, I’m not tall, at 5’1”, I’m like a giant compared to a pixie. And rather than buzzing around with the bees from flower to flower, I work in law enforcement. I help keep the Netherworld creatures on the straight and narrow—or, at least I try.

So, tonight I’d overridden my usual indifference toward my love life and actually accepted Knight Vander’s invitation to dinner and a movie.  Knight Vander is a
Loki
—a creature forged from the fires of Hades. As far as I know, he’s the only
Loki
in my town of Splendor, California. And as to a description of the
Loki
who happened to be my date, here goes…Knight is in one word—
gorgeouscockyfrustratingsexyoverbearing
and he’s a detective who was sent from the Netherworld to work at our headquarters, the Association of Netherworld Creatures (ANC).

“Was it so bad?” Knight asked, peering down at me with his bright blue eyes. With his longish black hair curling over the top of his button down shirt, his tan complexion, strong jaw and Roman nose, Knight could have graced the cover of GQ.

“What?” I asked innocently, keeping my hands snug in each of my pockets so he didn’t attempt to hold one. It’s not that I disliked Knight—well, sometimes I did—but, it’s more that I just didn’t want to get involved with him. He’s too cocksure, proud, demanding and argumentative. Yes, he’s beautiful but that doesn’t amount to much in my books. Hmm, maybe I wasn’t being entirely honest—Knight was wrong for me on all levels but I couldn’t help my attraction to him even against my better judgment. And that was why I wanted nothing more than to keep him at arm’s length.

“Going on a date with me,” he answered with that boyish smile, revealing bright white teeth that almost glowed in the moonlight.

I glanced away from him and took in the beauty of the night. We were walking down Belfry Street and there was the lightest breeze disturbing the otherwise still air. The scent of honeysuckle was thick in the air and seemed to dance through my long honey gold hair, lifting the tendrils up to caress my cheeks. Belfry Street was on the better side of Splendor—it was replete with expensive restaurants and eclectic stores. We approached the end of the street which emptied into the oldest cemetery in Splendor, Green Pastures. Course, to the locals it was known as
Daiseyville
.

“I guess it wasn’t so bad,” I responded. The date actually hadn’t been bad at all. Knight had been good company, filling me in on all the adventures he’d had in Splendor since moving from the Netherworld. I knew he wasn’t staying in Splendor for the long haul, but he’d be here a while, since there was lots of ANC work to keep him busy.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I actually felt a little bit guilty about my less than thrilled response. I mean, Knight had shelled out a pretty penny on dinner and must have asked me five million times if everything met my approval. Then the movie we’d seen had been one I’d been dying to see for at least a few weeks.

“Everything was really great, Knight,” I added in a small voice.

He beamed like a proud kid who’d just gotten an A on his book report. I shook my head.

Knight stopped walking once we reached the decrepit gates of
Daiseyville
and studied me. I felt the heat of embarrassment staining my cheeks because I knew where this would lead.
A kiss.
Knight wanted to kiss me and it
was as obvious as the fact that I was trying to convince myself I didn’t want him to kiss me. The breeze started up again and seemed to be pushing me into him, encouraging me to sample his lush and full mouth. Granted, I’d kissed Knight before but it had been solely because we had to maintain the façade of a couple hot for one another—otherwise our alibi would have been shot and our case jeopardized.

But, now there was no alibi and no case to jeopardize. It was just Knight and me—alone. I didn’t actually feel myself do it, but I took a step nearer to him and he closed the remaining distance between us, never taking his eyes from mine. He bent down and held my neck between his large hands, heat searing the tender skin on the back of my neck. Yes, I was going to let him kiss me, and furthermore, I was going to enjoy it.

Just at the moment when he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to come in for the home run, I happened to glance behind him and caught the image of a skeleton lazily leaning against the fence of
Daiseyville
, watching us with hollow, sightless eyes.

“Son of a freaking bitch!”
I seethed.

Knight jerked away from me like I’d just bitten him and apparently realizing my
Tourette’s Syndrome
moment hadn’t been aimed at him, exhaled. “What?” he asked.

“Turn around,” I called to him behind my shoulder, already closing in on the ten feet separating me from the graveyard.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Knight said, apparently catching sight of the lounging skeleton. He jogged a few paces and caught up with me. “What do you think happened?”

I glanced at the graves, uneven with age—half had crumbled into the earth while the far side of the cemetery sported newer cement tombstones and neatly trimmed grass. But whether old or new, both were cause for alarm. I watched as the dirt of each gravesite began to bubble up as if someone were digging in reverse, from below. Skeletal fingers shot up from the ground like macabre flowers growing on fast forward—some still had flesh hanging from their appendages. I shifted my gaze from the dead who were in the process of unearthing themselves to the oily puddles of darkness that decorated each grave; slime spreading in a slow infestation of the graveyard. The puddles reflected in the moonlight, throwing prisms of color around the cemetery… something that might have been considered pretty if the spectrum of light hadn’t also illuminated the rotting flesh of the recently deceased or the smooth bones belonging to the long dead.

“Some
asswipe
spilled
Gorm
all over the cemetery,” I bit out.
Gorm
was an illegal potion. If you were alive and took it, you’d feel more alive than ever before—you’d basically be on Cloud 9 for about three hours before you suffered the worst of all come downs, starting with a migraine and ending with the feeling that the world was ending. Some creatures couldn’t handle the come down and took their own lives—it had taken twelve deaths before the ANC had declared
Gorm
an illegal narcotic. If you were dead and some jerk
Gormed
you, you’d come back to life—also for about three hours. But, you’d no longer be considered human, nope—you would have passed into the realm of the ghoul.

In the three hours of
Gorm
-induced re-life, ghouls became an absolute menace to society. They sought only to escape the confines of the cemetery to basically attack the living, searching for life sustenance. Good thing for Splendor that it had Knight and me.

“Looks like our work is never done,” Knight said with a sardonic smile. It was a smile that announced he was more than thrilled with the turn of events. Knight thrived on action and enjoyed nothing more than his position of detective for the Netherworld.

I was a little less enthusiastic. “I need to protect myself against their funk,” I said and nodded over my shoulder towards the dead, many of whom were out of their graves and hobbling around like newly born giraffes.

As a fairy, I’m endowed with certain powers—I can create dust and then use that dust to make basically anything I want (physical or otherwise). But, I also have limitations. And one of those limitations is the fact that dead and/or rotting ghoul flesh is like acid to my skin. One drop of the nasty stuff burns a hole that never heals. Kind of like the bite of a brown recluse spider on crack. So, protecting
myself
against the funk of a newborn ghoul was at the top of my list.

I glanced down at my outfit and said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d worn the longest jeans I owned, protected underneath by knee high black leather boots—the kind with a square heel since I can’t walk in stilettos. Thank Hades for a functioning wardrobe! I was less excited about my top. I couldn’t combat ghouls with my current black leather jacket—it was just too bulky. Underneath it, though, I had on only my red halter top, exposing a landscape of unprotected skin. I reached underneath my top and fingered the Op 6 pistol which I wore strapped to my waist. Pulling it out, I eyed the dragon blood bullets loaded in the chamber.

“How many you
packing?”
Knight asked.

“Six.
A full house.”

“Not enough.” He reached into the waist of his jeans and pulled out a gun I’d never seen before. It almost looked futuristic with its super short barrel and palm sized grip. Maybe it wasn’t so much the shape that made it seem so foreign, but the color—neon green. It almost looked like a kid’s water pistol.

“Um, what is that?” I asked, trying to shield a laugh.

Knight scoffed. “Don’t laugh—this is a
KG
and the thing has major kick. It’s a new toy a buddy of mine from the Netherworld sent over.”

“Where’s the magazine?” I asked, noting the gun didn’t appear to have ammunition. The walls were see-through and it looked like it was filled with water—or something that kept sloshing against the interior sides of the gun every time Knight moved his hand.

Knight brought the
KG
into his line of sight and seemed to target a ghoul that was in the process of shaking the gates of
Daiseyville
, apparently hell-bent on escaping. “There isn’t one. It’s loaded with intestinal fluid taken from the
Kraken
.”

“
KG
for
Kraken
Gun?”
I asked with a smile, pleased with my stellar ability of logical deduction.

He returned my smile. “Hey, it didn’t have a name and that’s all I could think of.”

“Real original there, Knight.”

Not offended by the slight, he faintly depressed the trigger and then released it again. “You depress only halfway so the gun can take stock of how far away your target is. Then you’ll see a red light. Once you see the red, pull.” Just then, he must’ve seen the red because before he’d even finished his statement, he squeezed the trigger and what looked like a dart of bright yellow liquid shot out of the gun and hit the ghoul square between the eyes. Once the
Kraken
fluid met the ghoul, it seemed to turn from a liquid into a gel and suddenly exploded into streams of fluorescent beads, disappearing into the ghoul’s eyes, nose and mouth.

“The
Kraken
fluid is engineered to enter the ghoul’s body—to get back into the intestine,” Knight announced. “Once it does, if there is any intestine left at all, it’ll start recreating the
Kraken
which the ghoul’s body won’t be able to tolerate or host.”

“So it’ll kill the ghoul?” I finished.

“Yep.”

“And if there is no intestine?” I asked, glancing at the skeletons that littered the graveyard, some so old their jaws, femurs or other large bones refused to stay intact.

“The process will just happen much more quickly.”

I glanced at the recently
KG
’d
ghoul and noticed it looked…confused—that’s the best description I could think of for the
non compos
mentis thing. It had stopped attempting to escape and now just aimlessly meandered around the graveyard, taking no notice of its surroundings. It tripped over a gravestone and didn’t get back up.

“Needless to say, don’t get any of that
Kraken
shit on you. I have no interest in bedding a
Kraken
,” Knight announced and handed me the
KG
.

“As if you’d get the chance to bed me at all,
Kraken
or not,” I said with a frown. “All you think about is sex.” I accepted the gun and aimed at the next ghoul in line, pressing the trigger as Knight had shown me. At the red light, I depressed it entirely and watched the line of slime make contact with the ghoul.
“
Ew
.”
It was all I could manage.