Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
ROC
Punctual as always, Hagan appears in the doorway to my office a quarter past midnight. I’ve been home for less than ten minutes, but to Hagan, my quiet time doesn’t matter as much as the day’s debriefing. Her tasks are always an itch that must be scratched.
“Are you ready for me?” she asks.
I fetch a cigarette from my silver case and pop it into my mouth. “Yes, come in.”
She enters my office and closes the door behind her, then crosses the room to one of the chairs in front of my desk.
I still find it annoying that I have not one, but two desks where papers and business and other equally important yet insufferably urgent items gather like flies on a corpse. Who would have known running a country would require so much fucking paperwork?
Hagan clasps her hands in her lap and waits.
Though she’s always awake before I am and still awake long after I return home, there is no hint of exhaustion on her pale face. Her big, round eyes are as alert as ever.
I strike a match on the nearby striker box and the room fills with the burn of sulphur. I bring the small flame to the cigarette and inhale. The tobacco crackles and ignites. I lean back into my chair and give Hagan a flick of my finger, letting her know I’m ready.
When I started looking for a bodyguard for Wendy, I began my search by looking for an ex-guard or a semi-retired assassin from Winterland.
The northern island makes some of the best murderers.
During training, they’re subjected to rough terrain and even worse weather.
If snow and mountains won’t stop them, a few thieves pose no risk at all.
But once word spread that I was looking to hire, Hagan appeared on my doorstep.
She sunk to a knee and held out her hand. In it was a gold pendant with a suit of clubs stamped in the center.
“Why did you leave Wonderland?” I asked her, not bothering to hide the thread of suspicion in my voice.
Clubs are soldiers, trained from the day they are born, meant only to serve the Queen of Hearts.
I’m not exactly on the queen’s good side.
Jabberwockies are the only thing in Wonderland that the queen could never control.
It’s why she hunted us, tried to kill us, failed and pivoted.
She eventually found a loophole. She called it “murdering the time.” But it’s just a fucking curse. A horrible one, though.
Our uncle, the Madd Hatter, suffers from the murdering of time. Time abandoned him, trapping him at 6:00 P.M., forever desiring blood and unable to shift. The only thing worse than being a monster is being a monster with no route to your power.
Head still bowed, Hagan answered, “It’s been a long time since you’ve been to Wonderland and much has changed.”
“Are the Clubs still loyal to the Hearts?”
“Some are. Some aren’t.”
“And you?”
She finally looked up. “If I come face to face with the queen again, I will carve out her heart.”
A very small part of me wanted to ask about Alice next, but I decided that was an itch I couldn’t scratch.
I hired Hagan on the spot. Clubs are good at their jobs because they are unassuming, and yet when it comes time to fight, they are some of the fiercest.
Now, Hagan sits across from me and details Wendy’s movements for the day. I haven’t explicitly told Wendy what Hagan’s true role is, but I suspect if she found out I’m having her watched, she’d be pissed, followed immediately by flattery.
She doesn’t like to be taken care of and yet it’s what she desires most of all.
She’s been spending more and more time at the clinic, but today she took the day off, knowing I was proposing to the Captain.
“There was nothing out of the ordinary,” Hagan finishes. “I did find a few children trying to sneak in through the garden, but I scared them off.”
“With sword or dagger?”
Hagan frowns. “My face.”
I snort. “You do have a fearsome scowl.”
“I do. Yes. Thank you.”
“If that’s all then…” I take another hit of my cigarette and lean back in my desk chair.
“There is one more thing.”
I exhale and the smoke billows toward the ceiling. “I’m listening.”
“I know it’s not my place, but perhaps it would be in everyone’s best interest if Captain Hook also had a guard?”
When I sit forward abruptly, the chair lets out a loud thunk. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No. It’s just…he is as equally important to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why not protect him too?”
I sigh and rub at my eyes. “Normally, I would agree with you, but the Captain will notice someone tailing him, and then I will have to deal with his bratty attitude for weeks, and I don’t really relish the idea.
I’m very tired.” If he knew I was doubting his capabilities, he’d give me the silent treatment and then I would have to beg him for just one fucking word.
I’m finding that the further I descend into running this country, the more I need him and Wendy.
I don’t trust very many people here, and the Captain and Wendy are the two I trust the most.
I take another hit and exhale, elbows on my desktop as I think. Should I hire a guard for him? I do have spies in Darkland and I haven’t heard anything yet. “Let’s hold off for now,” I decide. “But you’ll let me know if I need to start worrying?”
“Yes. Of course.”
The Captain isn’t exactly making friends in Darkland, but most everyone who matters knows he’s mine. They wouldn’t fucking dare lay a hand on him.
“Thank you, Hagan. You’re dismissed.”
She rises to her feet, gives me a shallow bow, and then slips from the room.
For a woman her size, she’s ridiculously graceful, nearly silent. I wish I had two Hagans, one for Wendy and one for the Captain. But surely he can handle himself in a moment of danger?
No, he’ll be fine. He’s gotten this far without getting himself killed.