Page 12 of Escaping Wonderland

The very thought of it churned Shadow’s stomach. Control was the strangler of life, the enemy of joy, the killer of freedom. Even after all this time, the Hatter hadn’t learned that. Hadn’t learned tolet go. He’d only grown more exasperated with Shadow with each passing day, had only struggled harder to take control. Why were some people so blind to the truth? How couldthey be so oblivious to the nature of the world, the nature of existence?

Movement at the bedroom doorway caught Shadow’s attention. The Hatter slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him, and walked toward the overturned table. His lips were peeled back in a snarl, his eyes twitched, and his fists clenched and relaxed erratically.

“She’s not going to ruin my party,” the Hatter muttered as he stalked to the chair he’d been sitting in a few minutes earlier. When his dark eyes fell upon the mess on the floor—the messhehad created—he groaned. “Look at what she did, stupid girl. This is all her fault. Jor’calla said she was supposed to arrivehoursago…”

Shadow frowned. He’d already allowed the Hatter to go a little further with thatstupid girlthan he liked. The only thing that had held Shadow back was his understanding of the way the Hatter operated—he’d not do the woman any lasting harm without having his hat in his direct possession.

Letting the situation play out this far had been entertaining, but the heart of the issue remained unchanged; Shadow didn’t care who else was interested in the new woman, because he’d decided she was his. She’d be leaving this place with Shadow, not the Red King—and that only made this more satisfying.

Still muttering, the Hatter stepped around the chair and scanned the mess with his eyes, toeing aside shards of porcelain and ruined sweets. “No, no, no. Where? Where is it? Should be right here, right where I left it.”

Perhaps Shadow had always been naïve to think he could alter the Hatter’s outlook through intervention; perhaps it was cruel to toy with such a damaged mind.

But it wasfun, and that was justification enough.

“You look troubled, Edward,” Shadow said gently. “The new girl giving you problems?”

The Hatter—or Edward Winters, according to Jor’calla, who was only ever wrong concerning matters of timing—started and drew his knife. His wide, wild eyes fell on Shadow.

Shadow reached up, grasped the brim of his hat—formerly the Hatter’s hat—and tipped it in greeting.

“This ismyplace, not yours,” the Hatter said. “Return that to me and you may leave alive.”

Grinning, Shadow angled the hat to the side and leaned back in his chair. His tail perked, rising to sway a little faster. “Death is such a fleeting state, Edward. A minor annoyance at best. But I’m glad you’re upping the stakes so quickly, regardless. We always seem to find ways to make our little games more exciting.”

“This is no game, you faceless bastard. I’m going to slice you open from groin”—he jabbed the tip of his knife toward Shadow’s crotch and angled it upward—“to chin. Slowly.”

“Would you like some help cleaning up the mess you made first? I’m rather fond of the character it lends to this bland room, but I know itmustbother you.”

The Hatter adjusted his grip on the knife and lifted his free hand as though to reach for his hat. He stopped his arm before it reached the empty air over his head and curled his hand into a fist. The infuriated scowl that crossed his lips brought a surge of satisfaction to Shadow; angering the Hatter was never a dull undertaking.

“Before you make your next move”—Shadow brushed his palms over the chair’s soft armrests—“allow me to counter your ultimatum with one of my own. Give me the female andyoumay leave alive.”

Growling, the Hatter slashed his knife through the air and took a step forward. “She’s mine until the king comes! My dolly! I’m taking the first taste. It’s owed to me for taking her in while he’s away. Her sweetness is not for the likes of you.”

“I saw her before your little scurrier, Miraxis, did. That makes hermine.” The blond-haired human had immediately intrigued Shadow. He’d seen many of her kind here, but none had caught his eye like this one. “She’s better than you—or that red buffoon—deserves.”

The wild light in the Hatter’s gaze sparked brighter. Shadow took a moment to appreciate that gleam, priding himself in the fact that he’d ignited it.

Then the Hatter lunged at Shadow with a snarl. Porcelain shards cracked and crunched beneath his feet.

Laughing, Shadow lowered his foot and pushed the chair’s front legs off the floor. In the same moment, he threw his weight backward, tipping the chair completely. He tumbled along with it, clutching the armrests to hold the chair against his back as he flipped.

With an audible tearing of fabric, the Hatter’s knife punched through the back of the chair and grazed Shadow’s ribs, producing a distant flare of pain. The sensation forced another laugh out of him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been hurt without intending for it to happen.

My, he’s agitated today. How thrilling!

The motion of the chair broke the Hatter’s hold on the knife. The blade remained in place against Shadow’s ribs as he used his momentum and strength to flip the chair the rest of the way. It landed right side up, with Shadow firmly in the seat, and teetered on its rear legs for a stomach-churning moment before coming down on all four legs.

“You’re quicker than usual today, Edward,” Shadow said.

The Hatter was on his knees two paces away, his cheeks stained a bright, furious red, his shallow breaths ragged. “Why won’t you justdie?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for lack of trying.” Shadow stood and reached behind the chair. He closed his fingers around theknife’s grip and wrenched it free of the wooden frame in which it had been lodged.

The Hatter shoved himself up to his feet. “When I come back, I’m going to?—”

“Yes. You’ll try, and I’ll be looking forward to it, Edward.” Shadow stepped forward, raised a hand, and flicked the brim of the hat. “This is justoneof the things you’ll want to get back from me.”

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