Allison Shatters the Looking-Glass: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Harem of Hearts Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents Table of Contents

  Front Matter Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Signup for my Newsletter

  A Blade Beneath a Stormy Sky

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Back Matter Author's Note

  Groupie Cover

  The Family Spells Cover

  Elements of Mischief Cover

  Very Bad Wizards

  Pack Ebon Red Cover

  Pack Ebon Red Chapter One

  Keep Up With The Fun

  More Books By C.M. Stunich

  About the Author

  Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.

  Allison Shatters the Looking-Glass

  Allison Shatters the Looking-Glass © C.M. Stunich 2018

  Excerpt of 'Pack Ebon Red' © C.M. Stunich 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  The For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478.

  www.sarianroyal.com

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  The The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  Dedication

  In the last book, I wrote a little essay for my dedication, thanking all the wonderful people in my life that are responsible for helping me make as many words as possible. These are the human beings who allow me - whether through kindness, friendship, or advice - to weave my heart, soul, blood, and tears into every world I write.

  This time, I’m going to make it short and sweet.

  This book is dedicated to those who waited with eager anticipation for books two and three, their overwhelming love and patience, and the kindness they showed me along the way. You know you who are, and you’re a part of this journey, too.

  There’s so much negativity in the world, but you chose to brighten it up with a little positivity.

  I can never thank you enough for that.

  So this book ... this book is for you.

  Sign up for an exclusive first look at the hottest new releases, contests, and exclusives from bestselling author C.M. Stunich and get *three free* eBooks as a thank you!

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  A blade beneath a stormy sky,

  Fighting just this one last time,

  Alice drowning, black and red tide—

  Men of nine that fight so near,

  Eager and above all fear,

  Terrified this tale to hear—

  Long had darkened sunny skies:

  Echoes fade, memories die.

  Shadowed frosts have slain good guys.

  Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

  Alice battling under bloody skies

  Never seen by waking eyes.

  Citizens yet, the tale to hear,

  Wide, wide eyes and bleeding ears,

  they wrestle fears.

  In an Underland they die,

  Dreaming for bound wings to fly,

  Wishing for a Wonderland gone by:

  Ever drifting down the stream—

  Lingering in prophecy’s gleam—

  Life, what is it but a dream?

  Everything smells like blood.

  I'm choking on it, that metallic burn that tastes like pennies on the back of my tongue.

  My dad is standing behind me, but I don't recognize him right now. He looks like a fucking zombie, the way he's staring at the Anti-Alice. How he recognizes her as Rhoda is beyond me. Hell, maybe I'm crazy, too? How could that undead monster be the daughter my parents lost so many years ago?

  The Walrus—who's now about ten times his previous size—is barreling across the living room toward the Mad Hatter, knocking aside what's left of the furniture. Raiden Walker moves out of the way at the last second, taking the Looking-Glass with him and using whatever vampire voodoo bullshit he's got up his sleeve to reappear outside the bay window.

  Doesn't stop the Walrus though. He just smashes right through the wall and ends up in our front yard.

  And Dad used to be concerned about the neighbors' opinions on his choice of lawn ornaments.

  Well, pretty sure this is going to get my parents in trouble with the HOA.

  I suck in a deep breath, my gaze locked onto the too-blue eyes of the Anti-Alice, like shards of summer sky in her undead face.

  It's my job to fight her off; it's my job to kill her.

  I'm the only one who can do it.

  "Okay, bitch," I say, hating the way my voice shakes. "Come and get me."

  Oh, I'm such a badass in my ripped skinny jeans and uni-freaking-corn tank top, I think with a roll of my eyes. How am I supposed to beat the Anti-Alice with no shoes (just kitty slippers), no real-world fighting experience, and no courage? I'm fucking terrified.

  You would be, too, in my position; don't judge.

  The Anti-Alice cracks her neck to one side, and her gray skin tears, ruby red blood spilling from the wound in a foul-smelling wave. My nose wrinkles as I widen my legs in a fighting stance, the Vorpal Blade held out on my right side.

  "Allison," Dad whispers from behind me, and there's something so wrong with his voice that I feel myself falter. He recently lost a son, so what's going to happen if he watches his daughter kill the reincarnation of his other dead kid?

  Or … be killed by her.

  Cursing under my breath, I turn and grab Dad's arm, shoving him into the open bathroom door and then pushing my back against it to close it. The Anti-Alice is already on me, swinging her scythe and smashing it into the closed bathroom door when I duck.

  Her black and white striped skirts swirl as she spins to face me, yanking the bone scythe out of the door with an explosion of shards. I'm doing my best to stand up, but I can't seem to get my feet under me, and end up on my ass.

  "Allison!" I hear Tee scream my name just seconds before the March Hare slams into the Anti-Alice from the side, knocking her back against the bathroom door. My dad was just starting to open it, too. Now the door is cracked in half but wedged in the doorframe; I'm not sure he'll even be able to get it open.

  March grabs the Anti-Alice by the arm and then gives her a death shake, snapping the bone, and sending her scythe flying across the room.

  I can do this! I think, feeling a rush of adrenaline pump through my veins. I've got an opening, and I've got the Vorpal Blade and—

  There's a sharp shock of pain as my head is snapped back; some asshole is yanking on my hair.

  When my head hits the floor, I look up and see the Carpenter standing over me, his big bulbous nose obscuring the two tiny pinpricks of his eyes.

  "C'mere bitch," he says, dragging me across the floor and throwing me against the wall next to the kitchen entrance. My back hits the drywall so hard that it cracks, and a picture falls from the wall to the ground, shattering to pieces.

  For one brief second, I have a clear view of the destroyed living room and the yard outside.
>
  Edith is on the back of the Cheshire Cat monster, this glorious beast in black and white, with silver hoops in its ears, and a collar around its neck. It's almost as big as the goddamn bandersnatch, and it's bleeding profusely, all over the fucking street.

  Neighbors are standing in their yards, gawping at the scene of carnage in front of them.

  In minutes, the police will be here; I can already hear the sirens.

  "I likes the look o' you," the Carpenter says, swinging his long, thin tongue over his lower lip. He's tall and gaunt and reedy, and his fingers are spindly and knobby. When he reaches out for me, I instinctively swing the Vorpal Blade at him.

  He grabs my wrist so hard, I hear bones break.

  Pain shoots through me, this electric burn that buckles my knees, and I find myself hanging by my injured arm like a rag doll. It happens so quickly that I'm not sure how to react. Fortunately, I'm not alone.

  Tee drops to his knees next to me, grabs my face between his hands, and kisses me hard on the mouth. His wings explode from his back just before he uses one to knock the Carpenter's arm up and away. The creep's long fingers release me, letting my pain-riddled body crumple into Tee's arms.

  "I've got you, I've got you," he whispers, hoisting me up against his chest. I've somehow managed to maintain my grip on the Vorpal Blade which, really, is my only saving grace. I guess getting knocked around the training floor by North, Chesh, and the twins really did teach me something. "We need to get to the Mad Hatter, and quick."

  My mind is only half there, broken up into shards by the pain, but I nod my assent as Tee carries me across the remains of my parents' living room, and toward the front door.

  "Why do I feel like we're going to lose this?" I whisper, realizing that there's a bit of bone protruding from my wrist. Tee doesn't answer me, but I see his lips purse. Not a very promising facial expression.

  He vaults over what's left of the broken half-wall, and onto the lawn.

  The Walrus monster is halfway down the street, and he's got something … no, he's got someone in his fucking mouth.

  That someone is flung toward us, their broken body smashing into the side of my father's SUV and knocking it over. Do you understand the force required for that to happen?!

  And yet, the Mad Hatter is up within a few seconds, bleeding everywhere, clothing torn, but somehow still in one piece. He glances over as Tee runs up to him, gives me his wrist, and puts his mouth against the angel prince's neck all in one go.

  "Angel blood sends vampires into Frenzies."

  I can hear Chesh's words as I suck down yet another mouthful of vampire blood. Hey, I'm starting to get accustomed to the taste. Slather some of that on toast for me next time I stub my toe, okay?

  Raiden's hand grasps the back of Tee's dark head, nails digging into his scalp as he drinks. When his eyes open, I can see that the marmalade color has brightened to a wild, glowing pumpkin orange. That, and his teeth look bigger, longer, scarier as he pulls back and slides his arm across his mouth, smearing blood.

  "Oh, well, now that was delicious."

  The Mad Hatter breaks into a dozen pieces, shattering like a broken window, and becoming a flock of bats. Their eyes glow as they take off toward the Walrus in a swarm, surrounding the creature's head and then reforming into a single entity.

  Raiden Walker materializes on top of the Walrus' blunt skull, whipping off his hat and pulling out his cane. Without sparring a single second, he unscrews the skull at the end of it, revealing a blade that he promptly stabs down into the Walrus' brain.

  The blubbery creature roars in pain, towering over the bystanders on the street and, when the first cop car comes around the corner, he sends it flying with one of his front flippers. The car eats a hole through our neighbors’ garage door and destroys the brand-new motorcycle Mr. Jones was just bragging about.

  "Holy fuckballs," I groan as my wrist knits together, and Tee sets me back on my feet. "They're going to send in the army!"

  "Your ruler will send his army for this?" Tee asks, and although he's adorable as shit, I don't have time to explain that yeah, the National Guard will probably be here within a few hours. Or hell, if my neighbors are streaming this shit on social media, we're already screwed.

  "We need to end this—quick. I don't even care if we win: can we just get these fuckers back into the Looking-Glass?!"

  Tee looks at me like I'm mad, which, considering the situation I now find myself in, is bound to become even more accurate by the minute.

  "Allison," Tee says, nodding his head to redirect my attention. "We're not going anywhere unless we get the Looking-Glass back."

  "Back?!" I choke, whipping around to find the Gryphon taking off with … the Looking-Glass in his fucking hands?! "No! Tee, go!" I scream, but he shoves me behind him and intercepts a … tongue?

  Oh holy hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades. Oh, fuck the whole damn deck!

  The Mocking Turtle whips his tongue in Tee's direction, and the prince catches it around his knife. When M.T. sucks it back in, Tee goes with it, still clinging to his weapon. At least Dee isn't far behind, sliding up next to me with blood pouring down the side of his head.

  "Love you, need it, gotta go," he whispers, kissing me with bloodied lips, and pulling away as his wings explode into existence, unfolding from his back like an origami project. The chains are still dangling off of them as he makes a run for it, taking off into the air with a flap of those powerful appendages, heading after the Gryphon.

  A gush of wind explodes out behind Dee, ruffling up my hair as I heft the Vorpal Blade up and watch the Anti-Alice crawling over the half-wall with the jagged shards of glass. She doesn't seem to mind as they rip and tear her flesh apart. No, she just spider-crawls out of the house and then looks at me with bloody, white hair hanging in her face.

  "Mistress," Chesh growls, padding up next to me just before his front legs collapse and he ends up kneeling like a horse, his massive feline body swaying as he tries to keep the rest of himself upright for Edith.

  "Allison," she wails, but she's sobbing so hard, nothing else comes out. When Chesh lets out a groan and finally falls onto his side, she almost goes with him. I grab her hands just in time to yank her off before he lands on the cement with a yowl of agony. "I'm so fucking scared."

  Edy throws herself at me, but I'm already pushing past her to check on Chesh. There's just so much damn blood that I almost slip as I kneel down next to his massive head. He's three times bigger than the tigers at the local zoo, with massive paws, and a pair of gray eyes clouded with pain.

  "I'm sorry, Midnight Knicker Dancer," he breathes, and my eyes fill with tears. I whip my head around to see the Anti-Alice swaggering toward us with her scythe. I don't have time to sit here and watch Chesh die.

  "Shit," I snarl, standing up and whipping out the Queenmaker. I have matches, gunpowder, and musket balls in the third pouch of my Vorpal Blade holster, but not a lot of time to fumble around with them.

  One shot might be all I get.

  I whip a match out, only to realize that I have something else up my sleeve: the mushroom flesh.

  I snap the pouch closed, scrape the match on the bottom of the Queenmaker, and light her up.

  The Anti-Alice starts to run at me as I take aim—and fire.

  The metal ball lobs up and away, smashing into the cement just behind the Anti-Alice. The flames and the heat chuck her like an undead Autumn leaf, sending her right over my head and onto the Smith's roof.

  Heh.

  And Mr. Smith is always bitching that my parents don't address the moss issue on theirs. Now who's got a 'dangerous growth' on their roof, huh?

  Joking aside, Edith and I are also thrown back, right into Chesh's fuzzy, muscular kitty belly. The orange and red explosion from the Queenmaker makes a mini-mushroom cloud in the middle of our suburban street.

  Edith refuses to get up, curling into Chesh's side and burying her face in his fur. He might be dying, but I know he'll protect her to his la
st breath. Me, I need to get the Mad Hatter over here, and I need to do it fucking fast.

  Stumbling to my feet, I put the Queenmaker back in her holster, and pull out a bit of mushroom meat.

  Looking down at the spongy, white flesh, I praise my own foresight: I carved a ‘B’ with my fingernail for house-big, and an ‘S’ for mouse-small into the pieces. Also, I curse myself because the mushroom tidbits have been bouncing around in the holster pouch, and the messy ‘B’ looks just the same as the ‘S’. Or is it the ‘S’ that looks like the ‘B’?

  "Shit on a Saltine," I curse, letting my head fall back. Oh well. If I just take a nibble, that should answer the question for me, right?

  I keep my eyes on the Anti-Alice as she struggles to get to her feet, her hair and clothes burning as she locks gazes with me and hops straight from the roof toward me.

  Fuck.

  I take a quick bite of the mushroom—and my stomach gets ripped right out from under me. That roller-coaster feeling is back, and within just a few seconds, I'm looking up, up, up as the Anti-Alice sails right over the top of me.

  Her scythe destroys the pavement just behind me, and I realize how goddamn lucky I am that I ate the 'wrong' mushroom. Stuffing the bit of extra fungi flesh into my pocket, I turn around, take a few steps back, and bite off a huge chunk of the other side.

  My head whips back as I sprout straight up, like the blackberry seedlings in the backyard that Mom used to curse at. You know, before she got put in prison for murdering the rapists that slaughtered my brother.

  I scream—can't help it—as I shoot into the air like a firework, my limbs lengthening to the size of small trees, my voice booming like a tornado warning.

  In the span of an instant, I'm dizzy and stumbling, but towering over my parents' house—and the Walrus.

  Raiden Walker is still battling the monster, but now, I'm much bigger than that blubbery piece of shit. As I reach for him, I see the Carpenter first, striding out of the house with blood all over his body and a smile on his grotesque, bony face.