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

  "I, uh, I found him on the street, soaked to the bone. How else does one acquire a cat?" I smile as I quote the Duke's words, crossing my arms over my chest and trying not to get frustrated with Edy. She doesn't know I'm dealing with otherworldly politics. All she knows is that her sister disappeared for two weeks, and now she's back.

  "Don't think I've forgotten what happened yesterday," she says, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up straight. Chesh's, too. I stroke him to soothe his fur back into place. "You and the cosplaying weirdos. Where are they now?"

  Oh, that.

  She remembers us tumbling through the Looking-Glass; that's all she remembers, I hope.

  "Do you remember having coffee with Dad?" I ask, and Edith raises an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, and uh, how is that important compared to you, and your silver paint, and hugging some guy we've never met buck fucking naked?"

  "What happened after coffee?" I ask, because I am getting curiouser and fucking curiouser by the second.

  "After coffee, you passed out and Dad carried you upstairs. Jesus, you must really be out of it. How many drugs did you do while you were gone?"

  I have to really think about that one for a moment.

  I smoked a lot of pot, err, whiting, and I definitely drank some boosted tea.

  "I need to shower," I say, collecting a fresh pair of jeans, a tank that says They Can't Burn Us All with a pentagram trapped in a Venus symbol, and some undergarments. I scoop up Chesh in my other arm and head for the bathroom.

  "Running out on me won't make me forget," she whispers as I pass, but since I have no clue what to say to her, I just slip into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

  Once the water and the fan are running to give Chesh and me a little privacy, I give him a look.

  "Can I have a moment to change?" I ask, and he cocks his head to the side like he's thinking, tail twitching behind him. He licks his shoulder and then looks back up at me.

  "You may have two moments and thirty-some odd seconds," he says, but then he just keeps staring up at me with those gorgeous gray eyes of his. With a roll of my own eyes, I grab him by the scruff, stuff him in the cabinet under the sink and change as quickly as I can.

  Fortunately, there's a window in the shower, this old eighties one with frosted glass that my father thinks is lewd, and my mother loves because it lets sunshine in while she showers. Um, showered, I guess, since she's never getting out of prison to come back here.

  I let Chesh out and climb right through it, leaving the water on as I go. If Dad or Edith somehow figures out that I’m gone, I'll just tell them I stepped out for air or something while they weren't looking. If they are watching the door, well, I already disappeared for two weeks, so sneaking out the window for ten minutes shouldn't matter much, right?

  Crawling across the roof tiles, I take my tried-and-true route to the backyard, hop down onto the hot tub lid, and raise an eyebrow as Chesh shifts in mid-air on his way down after me. He lands with about a hundred times more grace than me, popping his bow tie off and chucking it into Mom's tulip bed.

  She planted them into a heart shape, so every year, they die and then grow back in that same shape. Gotta love flowering bulbs. Well, in the spring anyway. It’s just a patch of bare dirt right now.

  "I assume you know where we're going?" I ask, and then I hear a familiar voice from the bushes on my left.

  "Assumptions make an ass out of you and shins—two of which we all have.” Dee steps out of the arborvitae and gives me a little wave, his black and blue hair rumpled and matted with old blood. “Unless of course you're an amputee which then you could have one shin or none shin and then the only person that's an ass is you.”

  "Oh, wow, thank you for that," I whisper, but I can't seem to stop myself from crossing the lawn in a half-jog. I throw my arms around his neck as he laughs, and give him a quick kiss on the cheek—can't risk one on the mouth at the moment because, you know, wings and all. "I'm glad you're okay."

  "We're all fine," he whispers, "but if the King and Company hadn't come out of the Looking-Glass when they did, we'd all be dead."

  "Then the Looking-Glass—" I start and Dee gives me this tight-lipped expression that speaks volumes.

  We don't have it.

  "We can go back down the Rabbit-Hole," I start, but he's already shaking his head.

  "We can't go anywhere until we get the Looking-Glass back," Dee says, but in my heart, I already know that. Whoever holds the Looking-Glass holds the power, don't they? I mean, to be able to travel between worlds is monumental.

  "It's not broken is it?" I ask, but Dee's already shaking his head and raking his fingers through black hair streaked with blue. His wings are gone, but for now, that's for the best. Explaining a thirty-foot wingspan to every Tom, Dick, and Harry doesn't exactly sound like a good time.

  "The Walrus and the Carpenter are as concerned with keeping the Looking-Glass whole as we are." Dee pauses and glances over his shoulder, into the dark shadows of the woods. "Come on. There's something I think you need to see."

  Dee takes my hand and pulls me after him while the cat shifts and pads along in the leaves next to us, collar jangling as he walks.

  As we move, I notice tiny toadstools popping up from the wet dirt, sparkling and glittering in unnatural colors. That's … not normal for Topside. I should know: I grew up in this boring, dull, and humdrum world.

  "Dee," I start, but the woods are so fucking quiet, unnaturally so. I don't hear birds or instincts, just the crisp crunch of leaves beneath our feet. He looks at me, but I just shake my head. Later, I'll ask later. Right now, I've got butterflies from his cryptic statement. Something I need to see? Nobody drops a statement like that unless something bad is going on.

  We weave through the woods, drenched in shadows and dripping in evergreen boughs. Tiny, frozen droplets of water kiss my nose and lips as I look up.

  "Perhaps you should warn her?" Chesh says after a while, shifting back into human form and swishing his tail back and forth. He looks over at Dee with eyes that match the sky: a dark, stormy gray.

  "Perhaps," Dee says, pausing when we hear the sharp snap of teeth, and smell the pungent reek of blood.

  "The Mocking Turtle?" I ask, but Dee shakes his head again, reaching down to scratch at his belly through his t-shirt. Pretty sure I recognize that shirt—it's Fred’s. And now that I think about it, those suits the King and the Duke were wearing were Fred's, too. I'm surprised Dad didn't notice? Or maybe he did, and they just used some of their Underland voodoo on him?

  "It's the Mad Hatter," Dee tells me, looking down at the ground and then back up at my face. "He's … pretty fucked-up. I'm not sure how else to put it."

  "He's in a Frenzy," Tee says, stepping out from between two trees. My heart leaps when I see him, that curiously stern look on his face that makes him look a decade older than his twin brother. He rubs the palm of his right hand down his left, flashing me the glorious feather tattoos on the backs of his arms. "And we don't know how to snap him out of it."

  I move past Tee and around a tight cluster of birch, finding myself face-to-face with the Mad Hatter.

  Or … what used to be the Mad Hatter.

  "Holy fucking hearts," I curse, slapping my hand over my mouth when those wild eyes of his turn to look at me.

  Raiden Walker is chained to a massive redwood tree; his ankles are locked tight together with thick, heavy links of metal, and his arms are up and out to the sides. The expression on his face is not at all human. Fuck, he looks like a goddamn vampire right now. His marmalade-colored eyes are neon orange and glowing, and his teeth are twice as long and sharp as they were before. He's snapping at the air like a rabid dog, and snarling, slaver and blood dripping from his lips.

  The March Hare is leaning against the side of the tree next to him, bleeding profusely from his neck. It doesn't just look like Raiden bit him, more like he tore a chunk out of his friend.

  "What the …?" I start as March reaches up w
ith a big hand and rubs at his bleeding wound. Well, really, it's more like raw, ragged flesh, but if I look too closely at it, I might be sick. I'll just keep my gaze elsewhere. Like on the Mad Hatter, and his too-white skin, his dilated pupils, and the bulging veins in his arm muscles as he struggles to escape his confinement. "This is what a Frenzy looks like?"

  "This is what a Frenzy looks like if it goes unchecked," March snarls, dropping his head. This time, his top hat actually falls off and hits the forest floor. All sorts of things fall out of it: twin revolvers, several knives, poison vials … lubricant? "I tried to feed him before he lost the goddamn plot, but he's lost his fuckin' shite." March slams his fist back into the tree, cracking the bark and drawing the Mad Hatter's attention over to him.

  Raiden bites at the air, rattling the chains and making the links creak. I'm seriously concerned he's going to escape.

  "It's his fault we lost the fucking Looking-Glass, mercenary scum," Red snarls, standing there wearing my brother's suit, and looking completely out of place in the dark shadows of the forest.

  "Hey," March says, snatching his hat up from the ground and shoving all his goodies back into it. "Without that mercenary scum, your Alice would be dead." March stands back up and tucks his hat on his head, blood soaking his shirt and sticking it to his chest. Looks like he also borrowed some of Fred's clothing. We'll have to be careful; my dad might've been too out of it to notice this morning, but if he catches me with nine dudes all wearing my dead brother's clothing, we're going to have problems.

  "True point," Tee says, giving the King a look. "And you know I'm no fan of the Hatter's. But if he hadn't gone into a Frenzy, the Walrus and the Carpenter would've killed us all, and you know it."

  "Well, if he'd managed to hold his Frenzy back just a fraction of an inch, we might've been able to take the Looking-Glass. Instead, we spent our time trying to make sure he didn't murder us or any unsuspecting Topsiders who, by the way, are moronic." Rab looks around the forest with his red eyes, like he's searching for eavesdroppers. "However did you survive eighteen years here? What a nightmare."

  I raise an eyebrow because … come on. Underland is fucked, but then, so is Topside. When I first got to Underland, all I wanted was to come home. Now that I'm here, all I want is to go back.

  "There's as much magic here as there is back home," Lar says, wingless and looking miserable for it. He plays with one of his red earrings and sighs. "It's just … trapped."

  "Under a layer of toxic masculinity, divisive two-party politics, and bullshit?" I ask, but nobody gets the joke and anyway, I don't think I could find much funny with the Mad Hatter snarling and biting the air like that. "Can't he just turn into a flock of bats and escape those chains?"

  "A colony of bats," the March Hare corrects, as the Duke scowls and stirs up fallen leaves with his tail. "It's called a colony of bats, and yes, he could. It's why we're watching him particularly close. If he does, and we catch even one, we can keep him from reforming. Even in this wild state of his, he knows that. He'll be cautious about what he does."

  "So how do we fix this?" I ask, taking a few steps closer. My movement draws the Mad Hatter's attention again, and I pause, nervous titters taking over my belly.

  "Blood," March says, but even he looks a bit … freaked-the-fuck out. "But he's so out of it at this point that I wouldn't advise offering your neck."

  "What do you usually do with him when he's like this?" Dee asks, cocking his head to one side and studying the Mad Hatter with sapphire eyes.

  "Usually? Because there are so many angels for him to feed from?" March asks, and then sighs, like he isn't purposely being a dick for once. He takes his hat off, digs around in it, and pulls out a lollipop in the shape of a … well, a top hat. He sticks it in his mouth and sighs again. "I'm bloody stumped. Sex, perhaps, could help?"

  He looks right at me when he says that.

  "Sex?" I choke out, and flush when all nine guys turn to look at me. That's a lot of um, big dicks, to satisfy. Fucking prophecy. Have I ever mentioned that I hate prophecies? "I'm not having sex with him; he'd bite my vagina off."

  "Sex to soothe a beast?" the Savage Duke asks, and I notice the tiniest points of horns sticking out of his golden hair. The King reaches over and puts a palm over one, pushing it back into place as North snarls at him. "Is that what you're saying?"

  "I'm saying, I have no fucking clue what to do. This is Raiden's first time in a frenzy. He's only twenty-eight years old, you know. Just a baby vampire." March leans back against the tree, sucking on his lollipop and playing with the brightly colored vials around his neck.

  "He's twenty-eight?" I ask. The same age as the King. Not that old in reality, but … like, I'm eighteen, sooo … "When did he leave Topside for Underland?"

  The Mad Hatter snarls and snaps, spattering blood all over me. It takes me a minute to realize where the blood is coming from: he's bitten his own tongue and lips. Ouch.

  "Fifteen years ago," March says, raising a brow. "Why?"

  "Just … never mind." I stand there for a moment, running my tongue across my lower lip. "So, what do we do?"

  "You're the future Queen of Hearts," Red says, his face as stupidly arrogant as it always is. I still can't decide if I hate him, or if I'm fucking obsessed with him. "You tell us. We need the Looking-Glass back, we need to get home, and we need the Mad Hatter to cease his destructive behavior."

  "And, I need to spend some time with my family." I give the Duke a look. "Also, please don't interact with my father or sister without expressly consulting me first. I already have enough shit to deal with regarding my two week absence."

  "We were covert this morning, I felt," Lar says, his blue-blonde hair tousled by a supernatural breeze. Even here, in Topside, he has magic all around him. "The spell I cast on them should keep them from remembering too much at once. By the time it hits them and they remember all they've seen, we'll be gone." He pauses, soft blue eyes sliding to the side, like he can see something lurking in the forest. "Hopefully."

  "My family's importance doesn't end when I go back to Underland." I give Brennin Red a hard look, meeting his dark eyes dead-on. "I want full access to the Looking-Glass."

  "And look how well that went yesterday," he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

  "This is a deal breaker for me," I snap, and I realize that I'm being way too fucking loud. We're in the woods, sure, but there are houses all along the edge of this park. Plus hikers, teenagers looking for places to fuck or make out, homeless people. We could be stumbled upon at any moment, and I have a man literally foaming at the mouth that I need to fix somehow. "I'll give the Hatter my blood."

  "Allison!" Tee snaps, biting his bottom lip. He tucks his fingers into the front pockets of his borrowed jeans. Even with his purple eyes, and those gorgeous wing tattoos, he looks like a normal kid right now. To me, he's just as sexy like this as he was when he was channeling his angel prince side. "He'll fucking kill you if he gets the chance."

  "Well, we can't just leave him like this," I say, taking a step closer to the Mad Hatter, wondering not for the first time who he used to be, where he came from. He must have a family out there somewhere, right? Somehow, in my mind, I'd imagined him as some old ass vampire from like two hundred years ago, someone whose family was dead and gone.

  He might still have a mother out there looking for him, a father, siblings.

  I reach my hands up, jerking back when Raiden snaps at me. His top hat is still on, lilting lazily to one side, and he's wearing the same clothes from the ball, only they're torn to bits and splattered in blood.

  "Hey," I say, peering carefully at his face, "I know you're in there somewhere, the antagonistic, blackmailing prick that I met just last week." Sucking in a deep breath, I reach out and tap the side of his face while he acts like a feral cat and tries to bite me. I wonder briefly if I should offer up a wrist or something, but then I have the very real fear that I'll get my hand bitten off.

  I trail my fingers down the Mad
Hatter's cheeks, being careful to keep them out of reach of his teeth. When I slide them up and into his silky, black hair, I see his entire body go stiff.

  "We need your help," I tell him, because I saw how fucking close we came to getting our asses handed to us already. And if the Walrus and the Carpenter have the Looking-Glass, they could be bringing even more reinforcements through. There is no way in hell we'll get it back without Raiden Walker.

  "Be careful," Dee whispers, standing fairly close behind me. I'm guessing he's getting ready to yank me out of the way in case something bad happens. That's probably a good idea, too, because I'm still fumbling my way through this.

  I have no idea what I’m doing here.

  "Give him a blow job, and see what happens," March suggests, and I cast him a narrow-eyed glare. He just keeps sucking on his lollipop, a meaty chunk missing from his neck. I can barely stand to look at it, and I figure it must hurt like hell. We have to get Raiden up and running again before it can be healed though.

  "I'm not giving him a blow—" I jerk back when Raiden bites at me again, blood and saliva flecking across my face. Gross. I swallow hard and put my hands on the Hatter’s shoulders, kneading his flesh. It calms him down—but only a little. I run my palms up the back of his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair again. I give it a little jerk, and he snarls at me, but it's a different kind of snarl.

  Fuck.

  "He needs to be mated," the Duke says with a long sigh, cracking his knuckles. "Wild beasts, sated by violence, blood, and sex. That's what vampires and jabberwocky have in common. March, perhaps you'd like to take this on?"

  March shrugs, swirling his tongue around his sucker and then running the sticky candy across his lower lip.

  "You want me to suck his cock, do you?" he asks, and I turn to glance in the March Hare's direction.

  "Have you done it before?" I raise a brow, but March just shrugs his massive shoulders. I have to say, he looks fan-fucking-tastic in that tight t-shirt. Fred used to wear it as a sleeping shirt, but March barely fits into it. It stretches across the wide expanse of his chest and shoulders. That, paired with the huge biceps hanging out of the shirtsleeves? Ugh. I can't even right now.