Allison's Adventures in Underland Read online

  The jabberwock snatches the jubjub bird by the head as its screeching reaches a wild crescendo and I wonder if I'm ever going to be able to hear a goddamn thing after this. Before the fuse has even hit the bottom, the dragon—because, dude, it looks like a frigging dragon—snaps the bird's neck by shaking it with horrific amount of violence and strength.

  “Oh my god, it's the fucking duke!” Dee screams. “Alice, don't shoot him!”

  At the last second, I lift the muzzle of the gun up and the metal ball explodes from the end, flying in an arc and landing on the other side of the jabberwock. It's like a bomb's just gone off, flame rising into the sky as a rush of heat and light washes over us and sends both the jabberwock and the bandersnatch rolling across the forest floor.

  Rab's big furry bodies crashes through the fence and nearly kills us all, skidding to a stop just inches from where I'm kneeling. The dragon—the duke?—collapses where he stands with an earsplitting groan.

  “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Dee says as both he and his brother take off toward the downed monster.

  “What … what the fuck is going on?!” I scream as I rise to my feet and look over at Lar as he slowly climbs to his own. He just smiles, the expression slow and bemused.

  “You almost killed the duke,” he says with an easy laugh.

  “Who the hell is this duke anyway?” I ask, panting as I come around to the front of Rab's comatose body and watch as he shifts back into his human form—if you can even call it that. This guy is anything but human.

  “Who the hell is anyone, really?” Lar asks, leaning down and picking Rab up from the grass. He tosses him over his shoulder the same way he did me, moving into the house without bothering to answer my question. I just stare after him and then turn, just in time to see the massive dragon … sorry, jabberwock melt down into the body of a naked man.

  Opening the gate, I take off down the road in a jog, past the dead body of the jubjub bird and pause next to the twins. The forest beyond is on fire, but I don't see what the hell I'm supposed to do about it. How was I supposed to know the fucking screeching monster with the gold eyes was another shifter?! Not exactly like we have a lot of those back in my world. Not exactly my first thought when a monster comes raging at me, that he's a goddamn duke.

  “What do you suppose he's doing all the way out here?” Dee's asking as I stand next to the twins and try not to gape at the handsome man lying on the ground in front of me. Holy fucking shit. Are there no ugly or even average looking people in Underland?! The man in front of me is stunning with tousled golden hair, and a body without an ounce of fat. He's just as muscular and pretty to look at as the rest of them … except, you know, he's got a long black tail and horns.

  “Who is this guy?” I ask as Tee checks his pulse and sighs in relief.

  “The Duke of Northumbria,” he says, nodding at his brother. “Help me lift him and we'll get him inside.” Tee grabs the comatose man by the arms while Dee grabs his feet and they start to carry him back toward the house, ignoring the rancid stink of burnt mushrooms and the choking thickness of the smoke.

  As if summoned by magic, on our way back to the house … the sky splits open and rain starts to pour over the woods. I jog back and wait at the fence for the twins, opening and then closing the gate, locking it, and then doing the same with the front door.

  The jubjub may have been able to steal the corpse from the yard, but I'm from a world without magic, and I feel safest in a house with a closed door and a goddamn lock.

  “Shit, what the hell happened out there?” I hear Rab cursing as I come around the corner and find him sitting up on the couch. Where the duke is naked, Rab's at least still wearing his pants and boots. Not sure how that works with the dynamics of shifting, but there it is. “The Kingmaker should be able to take down a jubjub. It hardly even looked at the flames once it saw me. And can somebody tell me how it stole the corpse from the yard in the first place?”

  “You're assuming the jubjub was the one who stole the body,” Dee says as they lay the duke down in the wingback chair Rab was using yesterday. “Assumptions make an ass out of you and shins—”

  “Dude.” I cut Dee off with a wave of my hand, tossing the Queenmaker onto a sofa table and moving into the living room to sit on the edge of the fireplace surround so I can stare at the five men in the room—even if one of them is still passed out. “What the fuck just happened out there?”

  “What do you think just happened out there?” Lar asks as I narrow my eyes and he lets out a low, self-satisfied chuckle, perching on the edge of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest and an easy smile on his face.

  “Do you answer every question—every valid question, I might say—with another question? Because if so, you and I are not going to get along particularly well,” I growl with narrowed eyes, looking at the sexy bastard and hating that he knows how damn hot he is, too. Like why can't pretty people complain and moan and gripe about their appearance with the rest of us? Such a turn-off when they know they're hot … such a turn-on, too. God, I'm just a fun little bundle of contradictions, aren't I?

  Lar just smiles at me, his eyes droopy in a lazy, cat-got-the-cream sort of way.

  “Must be compensating for a seriously small dick,” I mumble. Not the most creative insult in the book, but eh. After giant spider-birds, shapeshifting dog-cat monsters, and fucking dragons, I'm about at the end of my rope today. And the sun hasn't even come up yet. What a way to start the day, huh?

  “Is that what you think?” Lar asks, flicking some hair back from his face, his earrings swinging as he gives me this easy, languid grin. “What size do you prefer, Sunshine?”

  “I'm not particular as to size,” I say, giving him a smirking, sarcastic smile of my own in return. “But three inches is such a wretched cock length, don't you think?”

  “Oh, so you're admitting to having seen my cock then?” Lar asks, tilting his head to one side, his hair swinging prettily against his shoulder.

  “Are you admitting to having three inches below the belt?” I ask with a little sneer and I'm not all surprised when he reaches down to unbutton his pants.

  “Would you like to see how very wrong you are?” Lar says, in an apathetic, lilting sort of voice.

  But our banter is interrupted by a spectacular amount of cursing from the wingback chair.

  “What in the bloody hell am I doing here?” the golden-haired man asks as he sits up and rubs at his forehead with the heel of his hand. I can't stop staring at him. His hair is just a little too gold and those fucking horns … They're black as shadows, curving wickedly over the top of his skull while his tail swishes in irritation. Looking at the wall of mounted heads now, I can see that the thing I thought was a dragon before is in no way large enough, more like a giant lizard. Shit, maybe it's Bill's cousin or something?

  “Your grace,” Tee says carefully, standing stiffly on the opposite side of the coffee table. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I've been fucked in the skull by a—” The Duke cuts off abruptly, noticing me for the first time, and then rises to his feet. “You're the bloody Alice,” he says as I stand, too, and try not to look at his cock. There's been a whole lot of that since I arrived here, a lot of staring at the ceiling or the walls or a man's hardened nipples instead of his junk. “What the hell is she doing all the way out here?”

  “We had to take the long way, sir,” Dee says, and although he uses the word sir, his humility definitely leaves something to be desired. He doesn't much sound like he respects authority at all. The twins exchange glances with each other as 'the Duke' and I have a stare down.

  “Alice,” he breathes, the hint of an English accent in his words. Shit. I'm a serious sucker for a good British accent. Although, if he's from Underland, he can't very well be British, now can he? I have no idea where these people get their accents from or how the hell they speak the same version of English as I do, but whatever. I'm just glad there isn't a language barrier cherry on top
of this shit sundae. “The king must be furious to find you missing.” He flicks a glance of his gold eyes in the direction of the twins and Rab, but I can see from his facial expression that the idea of the king being angry is amusing to him. Great. Another psycho. “Have you called him yet?”

  “The network is compromised again,” Tee says, the edge of his mouth twitching slightly. “We're not to discuss our whereabouts or anything to do with the Alice over the phone in case the Clubs are listening.”

  “Right, right,” the Duke says, snapping his fingers in a way that makes me grit my teeth. Here's a man used to privilege, used to people doing what he says. I can already tell by the way he stands, chin up, shoulders back, his mouth curving into a sure smile. “So, you're making your way toward the palace, are you?”

  “We were just getting ready to leave,” Tee says, exchanging yet another look with his brother. “We'd planned on asking for refuge at your estate tonight. I must admit, we didn't expect to see you so far south …”

  “I've clearly shifted in my sleep again,” the Duke says with a long sigh, his tail sweeping across the floor like an angry cat's. He never takes his eyes off me, though. No, apparently I'm worthy of his full attention—even his dick is pointing in my direction. “You seemed to be struggling quite mightily with the jubjub. Have you lost your skills, Rab?”

  “That was no regular jubjub,” Rab says, his voice cool and deadly as he sits with his elbows on his knees and stares straight ahead at me. I meet his bloodred eyes for a moment and then look back at the Duke. “It certainly didn't behave as such. Besides, someone or something crossed my wards and stole a prisoner of war from the fruit tree. Not that I miss having a bloated corpse hanging outside, but it shouldn't be possible or even plausible for a jubjub to do something like that.”

  “Mm,” the Duke muses, glancing over at the Caterpillar. “And you're here, too, are you?”

  “Am I? Or perhaps I was here first and it's you who is too in this equation.” The Duke narrows his eyes at Lar's nonsense as Tee quietly bows out of the room.

  “Anything interesting?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement does nothing to hide his junk from view, but oh well. At least I can see that he has more than three inches for sure.

  “I was planning on heading back to the palace as soon as I delivered my vision to Rab, but I can see now that I might do with some company,” Lar muses as Tee moves back into the living room and offers up a pair of pants to the Duke.

  “Do you happen to have a name?” I ask because, come on, the Duke is just a title, and I kind of have a problem with authority. He finishes putting the sweats on, letting them hang as criminally low on his hips as Rab's slacks. I can see though, that there's not exactly room for his tail, so he doesn't have much choice.

  “You can call me North,” the Duke says, his smile an arrogant twist of privileged lips. I can tell we're not going to get along very well, me and him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Allison Liddell.”

  “I've never walked so far in my fucking life,” I say as I struggle to crest the next hill, sweat sticking the pale blue peasant blouse to my skin, my heart pounding inside my chest. I'm past the point of simple complaining—like, I am not built for this shit.

  “Really?” Dee asks, grinning brightly at me. “They don't have legs where you come from?”

  “We have cars,” I gasp as I slump against a tree and reach into the leather satchel for the gold flask Tee gave me before we left. It was filled with water when we left, but I can feel from the heft of it my hand that it's running dangerously low. “And bikes. And trains. Shit, we have horses. Don't you people have horses?”

  “Here,” Tee says, handing over his own flask. “You can have some of mine. Whereas my legs are shaking and I have to blink past thick gobs of sweat to look at him, he seems perfectly fine, not at all taxed by the miles and miles we must've walked. I'm not kidding when I say I've never walked this far in my life.

  After throwing on our clothes and eating a quick breakfast, we left in the pouring rain, walked through sunrise, and now … the sun is setting. Like I said, pretty sure it's winter here, too, so the days aren't overly long, but my guess is that we've been hiking through this damn forest for close to eight hours now.

  Eight hours.

  When's the last time you walked for eight hours straight?

  I'd so much rather be at home reading a book.

  “We have horses,” Rab says, taking advantage of the break to get out a cigarette and light it. Lar bums one off of him, his wings opening and closing in this mesmerizingly slow pattern that makes me want to stare. When he sees me looking, one corner of his mouth curves up in a smile and I plant a purposeful scowl on my lips. “But there are things in this forest that like horses even more than we do—jubjub birds, for example.”

  “Considering we have both a jabberwock and a frumious bandersnatch,” I start and hear Rab chuckling, this low, deep sound that scrambles my insides like the eggs we had this morning—the jubjub eggs. They were red as blood and I had to close my eyes just to eat them. Granted, they tasted just fine, but I couldn't get the image of that thing spouting web and poison and shrieking like a damn banshee. “Don't you think we could handle ourselves just fine?”

  “You saw how I was faring against the jubjub,” Rab says with a smirk that makes me want to slap the arrogant right off his face, “it was a close fight. I don't know about you, but I only enjoy gambling when the odds are stacked significantly in my favor.”

  “What about you?” I ask as I notice North watching me with his arms crossed over his chest, tail twitching. He's dressed in a pair of black breeches, brown boots, and white button up that's only half-buttoned. The sleeves are pushed up, his tan skin striking against the stark white of the shirt. He looks every part a duke … you know, except for the horns and tail. But really, those are sort of the best parts. I find myself having trouble looking away.

  “What about me?” he purrs in that accent of his, tilting his head to one side and watching my throat as I drink.

  “Can't you, like, shift and fly us back to your place or whatever?” I ask, knowing I sound like a whiny bitch but seriously tired of holding in questions I've been wondering all damn day. But holy crap, it was worth it to stay quiet and listen to these men talk.

  Underland is beyond fucking weird, and listening to their casual conversations gave me some serious insight. Apparently the ratio of men to women here is like, ten to one. No wonder this place is such a fucking nightmare.

  “There are several female jabberwocky in this area looking for a mate,” North says, smiling at me in a pleasant sort of way. It's a smile that says, hey, want to fuck? And the answer to that question is a resounding yes. Yes, I'm attracted to him. To the twins. Even to Rab and Lar. Hell, maybe I should move here and start my own harem? “I got lucky this morning that they didn't sniff me out. But I won't risk that again.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip and glanced away for a moment before flicking his gold eyes back to mine.

  “Already have a mate?” I ask and sure, it sounds like fishing but … Okay, so I'm fishing for information, big deal. Also, I'm ridiculously curious to find out if the Duke, like, mates with other dragons … er, jabberwocky. I think jabberwock is singular and jabberwocky is plural? But hell if I know for sure.

  “I was cursed with this affliction,” North says, narrowing his gold eyes slightly. “I wasn't born like this. I'm no more a jabberwock in my blood than Rab is a bandersnatch.” He gives me a crooked sideways smile and looks up into the darkening canopy above our heads. All around us, little mushrooms start to glow like their bigger counterparts and night birds start to chirp again, a replay of last night.

  I shiver and finish off my flask, waving Tee's away for now. Hopefully we're getting close to the estate? If not, I'll probably end up gobbling his down, too. I'm not trying to complain so much, but I'm literally just not in shape for this kind of a hike. The last time I went hiking was for an end of the year
field trip in eighth grade and even then, it was only a three mile walk along relatively flat terrain.

  This is like that … except on crack.

  “How much farther?” I ask as I push off the tree and we keep walking, Lar and Rab leisurely smoking their cigarettes as Dee threads his hands together behind his head and looks up at the moon. It's round and white and if it is any different than the moon back home, I can't tell. The only difference here is that there's, like, two of them?

  “About four miles,” Tee says and I try not to groan. Some random fact in my head tells me the average person walks at a speed of about three miles per hour. Great. Just over an hour to go, right? I try to be optimistic, but that's not really my thing. And besides, the people from Underland don't seem to be all that overly optimistic themselves.

  “Shall I recite a poem or story to keep you entertained, mistress?” Dee asks, adjusting his peaked cap, his coat billowing out behind him as he walks. I've given Tee's purple coat back and have taken to stuffing as much of Lory's pirate jacket in my bag, the sleeves dangling as I walk. I'm too overheated to wear it anyway.

  “Please don't,” I say, and Dee tosses me a little grin.

  “Are you sure you don't want to hear the rest of the prophecy now? It's a lovely story, the way Tee tells it.” I glance over at Dee's purple-eyed clone, but he's frowning and looking at me like he doesn't know quite what to make of me. I wonder if what Rab said was true, if he really did … does? … plan on fleeing through the Looking-Glass with me. I guess I wouldn't blame him if he did, considering what happened to his people …

  'Must be that princely blood that runs through your veins.'

  Rab's words echo inside my head. Paired with the conversation I heard on The Long Tale, I get the feeling that it's more than just an empty adjective.