Chapter Fifteen
I woke feeling as though I’d stumbled through a sandstorm and let my eyes take the brunt of it. What the fuck? Then the events of the previous day came flooding back.
The contacts.
So much had happened since Percy and Lola had turned my naturally brown eyes blue that I’d completely forgotten about them.
Removing the contacts took several minutes, my only point of reference for how it was supposed to be done, people on television.
It took another minute before my eyes stopped streaming and I could see properly.
The first thing I noticed was the pile of clothes. They hadn’t been there the night before, which meant Donovan had left them for me. As gifts go, it was one of the nicest I’d ever received.
Beside them sat a bucket of water with a yellow sponge floating in it and a towel that looked as though it had survived several wars.
The water turned out to be freezing rather than merely cold, but that only made it more refreshing.
By the time I’d finished washing, the last traces of sleep had gone.
The jeans were soft and well-worn. They were far too small to have ever been Donovan’s, which raised the question of where they’d come from.
The black tank top left my arms bare, but it was still infinitely preferable to the skintight and barely-there leather.
The boots I kept. There was nothing wrong with them in isolation.
I’d just finished tying the laces when Donovan’s bulk filled the doorway. “Breakfast?”
“That would be great.”
Another bonus was that my voice sounded almost normal again, with only a faint trace of hoarseness remaining. I followed him into the kitchen, where we repeated the previous night’s routine, only with porridge instead of soup.
“How long did I sleep?” I asked halfway through my bowl.
“Eight hours.”
“Christ. I didn’t expect to sleep that long.”
“You were exhausted.”
“I was,” I admitted. “Yesterday was quite the day.”
“Today will be worse.”
It took a moment for the words to register. “What?”
Donovan nodded. “People go easy on newcomers.”
I blinked. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
It didn’t matter how softly he’d said it. It still sounded like a threat.
Donovan smiled. “Eat your porridge.”
I did, sneaking the occasional glance at him in the hope he’d elaborate. He didn’t. The crypticness of this place was going to be the death of me.
“How did you end up here?” I asked after pushing the empty bowl away.
Donovan’s gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the kitchen walls. “It’s where everyone ends up, eventually.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Why don’t you just leave?”
He stared at me as if he expected me to say more. When I didn’t, he laughed. “Do you think you can leave?”
“Yes.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “The only reason I haven’t left is because I’m looking for someone. Once I find him, we’re both getting the hell out of here.”
“Who?”
The next few minutes followed the usual pattern. I described Warren. Donovan listened. Then he either genuinely knew nothing or pretended he knew nothing. I couldn’t tell which one . The man was almost impossible to read.
“What?” I finally asked. “No advice? No warnings?”
He shrugged. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to. They always do. There’s no point fighting it.”
Frustration bubbled up inside me. “Why can’t anyone in this fucking place ever say what they mean?
” I rose from the table. It didn’t stop Donovan from towering over me, but it made me feel marginally more in control.
“You all make it sound like I’m some kind of puppet.
I’m not. I chose to come here. Sure, a few unfortunate things have happened since my arrival, but I’ve wised up now.
I’m not letting anyone else trick me into anything.
” I waved an arm at the table. “Like… last night I asked you what payment you wanted for letting me stay here. I didn’t touch the food until you agreed it was free. Right?”
You didn’t ask about breakfast. Or the clothes. I quickly shoved the thought aside.
Donovan nodded. “Right.” He wasn’t really paying attention to my speech. His gaze remained on my chest.
I looked down.
My gesturing had tugged the neckline of the tank top low enough to expose the top of the crow tattoo. “What is it about this tattoo that everyone finds so interesting?”
Donovan lifted his gaze to my face. “It should be a flamingo.”
The statement was so ridiculous that I laughed.
“So it’s a different bird? So what? Crow, flamingo—who cares?
I dare say there are plenty of people wandering around Wonderland with all sorts of ridiculous birds thanks to Percy and Lola.
I guess I should be grateful it’s not a duck or a swan or something worse. ”
The joke didn’t land.
Donovan simply stared at me.
There was something off in his expression that I didn’t much like the look of. Something that made my stomach twist.
He shook his head. “There aren’t.”
“What?”
“There aren’t people with different birds. Just flamingos.”
“They probably got bored and fancied a change.”
Still nothing.
“Does the flamingo look better?”
He pulled the collar of his shirt aside to reveal a tattoo on his neck. I’d seen parts of it peeking out, but there hadn’t been enough to tell what it was. I stared at the flamingo. No, it didn’t look better. I wasn’t about to be rude enough to tell him that to his face, though.
“It’s just a tattoo, you know. The minute I get home, I’m having it removed.”
Donovan let the collar drop back into place and turned away so abruptly that I flinched. By the time I caught up with him, he was standing by the front door, holding it open. Night had fallen outside while we’d been talking. Apparently, I’d become nocturnal.
“You need to go,” Donovan said. The open door and rigid posture had already made that abundantly clear.
I stopped in the middle of the living room. “What did I do?”
No answer.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Even though I was standing directly in front of him, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You can’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t make me pick you up and throw you out.”
Oh, we’d gotten to that stage, had we? I nodded. “Fine.”
I stepped out onto the street. My senses immediately went into overdrive, searching for gangs, knives, baseball bats, or any other unpleasant surprises.
Thankfully, everything seemed quiet. At least Donovan hadn’t slammed the door in my face.
“Anyway,” I said, turning back toward him, “thank you. For the food. For the bed. I’d have slept on the street if it weren’t for you, and I don’t want to think about what might’ve happened.”
Donovan gave a curt nod.
I waited a few seconds longer before turning away.
“Lysander.”
I’d only made it five steps. I turned back. “Yeah?”
“Try the Black Teapot Supper Club. There’s nothing but gossip there. If they don’t know where the man you’re looking for is, nobody does.”
“Thank you.”
The door closed a second later.