Chapter 23 #2
I lean in and lay my hand on his shoulder, instantly regretting it when his hand finds my knee. “You were telling us the most interesting, true story.” He squeezes my thigh hard, making me flinch. I move my hand to grab his and not-so-gently pry it off me. “About the new patient at the psych ward—”
“Insane asylum,” He says it like he’s savoring the words, proud of them, even.
My lips twitch, and I grit my teeth. “Right. Yes that thing we totally still have in the United States.”
“We do! Or at least one family does. I mean, they call it a sssanitorium. But insane is what it is. They own everything around there.”
“Including a whole insane asylum?” Dee throws me a give-me-a-break look. “Fine, tell us more about how they’ve been experimenting on patients out in the open and not at all unbelievably. This totally isn’t a waste of our time at all.”
He smiles. “Yeah, alright, well, see here’s what they do. It’s in the vents, right? But only certain patients they order. And no one can tell, so they’ve never gotten caught.”
“Fascinating,” I murmur, and Dee snorts.
“I swear, Smoke makes them crazier and crazier.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, then pause. “Wait.” I turn around, the guy now no longer paying attention to the fact that we’re not paying attention. “He’s not on Smoke. We haven’t ordered a hookah for him or anything.”
I wave around the room to all the other patrons using Smoke tonight. Mariposa told us to advertise a two-for-one-special—two cakes of House blend shisha for the price of one hookah, but we haven’t had to convince Fishy yet.
“So?” Dee barks a laugh, then gives me an incredulous look and barks a laugh. “Whoa, you’re serious.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “Serious about… what?” I hate being out of the loop of something, but I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Yeah, I’m ssserious!” Fishy exclaims. “The shit’s like Pining, right? Untraceable. You can fry someone’s brain with enough of it, they’ll never remember who they are. .”
I snarl, “You almost sound like you’re bragging. Pining’s dangerous you know.”
Luna was drugged with Pining, an increasingly popular date rape pill, and kidnapped. Anyone using it as an experiment on unsuspecting patients should be ashamed.
He shrugs, picking at something under his thumbnail while he talks.
“They’re paying big bucks to find out how it works in the air compared to intravenously before they test it with this other drug.
Some mushroom or another.” He waves that away like he was talking about reciting a recipe.
Then he tries to slide his hand up my back.
I lean forward to escape it, and he lets me, giving me an oily smile.
“Anyway, everyone thinks the patients are dead, so no one will come looking for her. Perfect test subject.”
His eyes zero in on me, making me suddenly feel like prey. I recoil as what he said registers. “The perfect test subject?”
Dee snorts. “God, this shit makes people sound crazier and crazier.”
I look at her “What makes people crazier? Pining?”
“Well, yeah of course Pining, but… Oh my God, I forget how new you are sometimes.” Dee sits up straighter, and her eyes grow huge behind her glasses. “The Smoke, Alice. You haven’t wondered before why people are so easy to manipulate here?”
My cheeks heat. “I… thought we were good at our jobs?”
She snorts. “We’re good, but not truth-serum good. That’s the Smoke talking. Literally.”
I frown. “But I thought you couldn’t get high without actually smoking?”
I point to the guy blathering on now about conspiracy theories, to himself more than us now, like how a country once started a war on a certain date so a billionaire could get paid out on a black-market bet. Honestly, one of the more believable things he’s said all night.
“Well maybe not high, but you sure as hell get something. That’s why we all take over-the-counter antihistamines. It helps ward off the Smoke.” She pauses. “You seriously didn’t know this already?”
I shake my head, biting my lip.
“Huh. Mariposa should’ve told you. The last house mom was the one that told me and Tweetie.”
“The last house mom?”
“Yeah, Cyn. She retired, though. Tough old broad. Apparently she owns a strip club in the Upstate and just helped Castle get this one off the ground decades ago, and got out. Anyway, she warned us to take antihistamines, especially in the VIP rooms. The Smoke gets hella concentrated there.”
“Mariposa told me to take them because of the allergies Smoke can cause, but not to keep me…” I swallow. “From getting high.” I lower my voice. “Is that even legal? To drug people like that?”
She quirks an eyebrow in an are-you-serious face.
“We do a lot of not necessarily legal things in here, Alice. People don’t come to places like this to follow the law.
They come to feel good, and that’s what we do.
Since Smoke wears off quick, they’re not a harm to drive or anything afterward.
No harm, no foul. It just makes you talk and walk in ways you wouldn’t without it.
Don’t worry, though. Keep taking the antihistamines and you’ll be okay.
And be grateful Mariposa closed down the Mirrors Room.
That place sucked unless you were high.”
She narrows her eyes at Fishy. He’s back to that unfocused glare that suspiciously feels too put on to be real.
“And you know how I know we’re not high now?
Because we’re bored. He’s too far gone. Whether that’s because of Smoke or booze, I don’t know.
Doesn’t matter but there’s no reason for both of us to be stuck.
Go on. I’m gonna see if I can at least play ‘what’s in my money clip’ before I cut him loose.
If I get anything extra out of him besides that, I’ll split it. Sound alright?”
I stand, still a little shaken, mentally and physically, but I nod. “Yeah… yeah, fine with me. Good luck.”
She mock salutes me, and I turn to go. As I walk the floor, I glance around for any lonely patrons, trying to decide if I want to manipulate unwittingly drugged people like Dee said… or take a break.
Guilt eats at my chest.
Ugh, yeah, I definitely need a break. I’ll hang out with Oscar before my next set and try to decide what to do.
It’s not like I can leave. Wander Isle is the first place I’ve felt safe in a very long time.
And Dee’s right, in a sense. People come here to get away.
But they should be warned if the very air inside makes their inhibitions lowered.
Except, most of the guests drink, and that does the same thing, right? And tons of people actually choose Smoke for themselves, more people than not, actually. Even more return to The Rabbit Hole. If they keep coming back, they have to know how they behave on the Smoke, right?
Except you didn’t.
That sickness in my stomach twists in knots, making me nauseous.
I don’t know what to make of any of that information, and I don’t want to think on it right now. Too much is already up in the air for me, and I can’t jeopardize the home I’ve worked so hard and so long to feel safe in.
On my way to the back, my gaze can’t help wandering to find Hatter, but I don’t see him. I don’t know what he was doing with Tweetie, but he wouldn’t have actually gone in there with her, would he have?
Then again… why wouldn’t he? He didn’t have a problem going back there with me, and he has no loyalties to me whatsoever. It makes sense that he’d look for someone else. Someone better at giving him what he wants and needs.
A sharp panic in my chest hits me out of nowhere, so hard I actually have to stop walking. I stare at the carpet for a second, not caring that I’m jostled by wait staff and patrons milling about, trying to place the feeling.
But I know exactly what it is, because I felt it last night too.
Jealousy.
I don’t think I’ve felt it in my life over a guy—Luna, Brylie, and I had completely different types.
Luna’s into the mountain man type, Brylie likes them brilliant and broody, and I love a good antihero.
The only thing we all agree on is obsessed.
Is that why I’m jealous? Because Hatter isn’t as into me as I thought?
God, is he into me?
Stop. You can’t go dating anyone anyway. The entire point of being here is staying under the radar, remember!
I rub my forehead, careful not to mess up my mask. My mind’s a mess, and Hatter’s probably not even thinking about me right now.
That thought makes my stomach sink, and I groan under my breath.
I need a break.
Duchess is on stage, which means I’ve got a little time before my second set and even longer before I have to change into Alice for my final one. I’ll go hang out with Oscar, grab a bite to eat, then move on from thinking about a guy who can screw everything up for me.
Plan in place, I head to the back hall… only to see Mira step out of a VIP room with Frog. I freeze so abruptly my shoes somehow squeak on the carpet. Mira’s smiling, looking almost as satisfied as he does, and bends to give him a peck on the cheek.
His nose has a thin strip of tape over it, and he’s only wearing a green masquerade mask instead of the giant frog head he wore a few days ago. His eye is still puffy with bruising, but otherwise he looks annoyingly fine.
Mira stuffs a wad of cash into her bra while squeezing his shoulder. Frog slaps her ass before she goes, and she tosses a wink over her shoulder. Then he starts to turn around.
I panic, and dart into the nearest VIP room without thinking. Blessedly, there’s no music, which means no one’s entertaining in here. I peek out until Frog passes by, and I quietly shut the door, laying my back against it while I catch my breath.
But when I open my eyes again, shock and panic grip my chest at the person sitting on the small couch.
Hatter… and he’s jamming a needle into his thigh.