Chapter 2 #2
I slowly stood, frowning down at my still-bleeding leg from the window glass.
The scent of my blood was going to attract all kinds of creatures if I didn’t take care of it.
Was there an employee access to Wonderland I could use so I didn’t attract the notice of absolutely every shady character who lurked in Wonderland, Singsong’s premier casino?
Probably, but this pocket world inside the undercity was the kind of magic that manipulated where you were going.
It knew its people, and I was one of those lured into its maw, so I’d be led down the throat to the stomach so I could be more thoroughly digested.
I’d made it through the gates of Wonderland, but now what was I supposed to do?
Did I walk through the front doors and demand my father back?
Did I want everyone to look at me then at my father and see the connection?
He’d be appalled. He’d spent his whole life trying to protect me from this, but the goblins were already after me.
I slowly got to my feet and trudged forward, limping, torn wings drooping. I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t go back into the street. The gate had let me in and kept out the goblins. That was a good sign. Or a bad sign. Either way, sometimes there was no way forward but through.
I limped beneath the thick canopy on a charmingly twisting path, fireflies and glowing butterflies growing thicker, with luminescent mushrooms growing out of the tree trunks and grass.
I stumbled forward, and the path opened into the most charming scene, almost prettier than the fairy grove.
A radiant waterfall fell into a small pond surrounded by thick, silky grass studded with pastel mushrooms with countless pale blue butterflies and fireflies dancing all around.
It didn’t seem real, but the least real thing of all was the figure draped over a long marble bench, forked tail twitching beneath him where he lay, all gorgeousness and seeming indolence.
That was a lie. No one hustles like a devil.
He looked up at me, horns peeking through his glossy dark hair, giving me a slight smile that made his eyes glimmer. “Good evening. What brings you to Wonderland?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, then swallowed hard as I took a few more steps toward him and the charming falls to his left.
He wore a suit, but his shirt was unbuttoned to mid-chest, showing his golden tan and perfect musculature.
What could I possibly say to another one of my father’s creditors?
At least he wasn’t jabbing me with his claws.
Did he have claws? Not visibly, just nails painted black with dark blue tips.
Then again, maybe his black nails were his natural coloring to match his horns and tail.
He had rings on his fingers, dark metal or large gemstones that glowed like the mushrooms. He looked as magical and pulled together as I didn’t.
I took a deep breath and smoothed my hair away from my face, trying to look like someone who could pay back a loan. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that it’s impossible for my father to pay you back while he’s in a cage.”
He raised a brow, and I realized that I’d sounded too much like a resentful goblin and not enough like a sweet fairy.
He gave me a slow, languid smile before he sat up, movement like quicksilver and ice, gripping the edge of the bench with one dangerous hand.
“It’s also impossible if he gets himself killed.
I find that death is truly the end of any possible recovery of assets. ”
“You mean death from his other creditors?”
He tilted his head slowly from side to side while he studied me, frowning slightly when his eyes caught on my shin. “It just keeps bleeding.”
I bit my bottom lip while I stood there, uncertain what to do. He hadn’t said who would kill him. Was he worried someone else wanted to hurt my dad? “It’ll stop eventually.”
He sighed heavily then stood, walking slowly toward me with his head tilted. “But in the meantime, it’s getting absolutely everywhere. I like to run a respectable establishment, where the blood is kept carefully corked. Otherwise, it tends to inflame the patrons until they’re feral.”
He dropped to one knee in front of me, glanced up at me with his dark luminous eyes framed by his luscious hair.
And those cheekbones. Positively cutting, so how did his mouth look so soft?
“I’m going to return your blood, if you don’t mind.
Do you?” His voice was low, silken and light, playing over my nerves like music.
“What’s the price?” I asked, because obviously there was a price when dealing with a devil.
He gave me a smile that made his eyes even brighter. “I don’t make deals with people who are bleeding. I have a curse that requires my actions to be sum-positive.”
I blinked at him. “What?”