Wow, another long one. There was a lot of stuff to cram into this one chapter though, so bear with me. Thanks to my reviewers from last chapter and I hope you all enjoy this one, as well as the...tweaks...I made to it. Hehe.
Chapter XII: Royal Pains
A few minutes after boarding the Scarab, Alice was standing holding her hands behind her back, her face ashen and slick with sweat. Suits ringed her from all angles, their hands resting upon their side-arms with firm warning. Her entire body was at war with itself. The Slayer within was mercilessly plaguing her with the urge to lash out like a wounded, cornered animal and fight her captors. Her instincts were sensing doom upon the horizon and they were doing everything within their power to force her to remove herself from the path. The dutiful girlfriend and human being within her, however, kept seeing Jack, being chained up and subjected to the worst tortures her mind could imagine.
It was Mad March. His mere presence was driving her Slayer instincts up the wall. There was something about him that caused her to recoil with disgust and horror. He was not supposed to be here, that much she was certain of, though she did not know how she knew it. There was barely a thread of humanity within him, unlike all the others. This paltry thread was completely dwarfed by an aura of grotesque alteration. It was like someone had taken a priceless painting and had scrambled all the colors up, marring the beautiful image into something monstrous. She cursed herself for not taking the opportunity to question Hatter about this Suit whom he must have had dealings with in the past. His information probably could have solved a lot of problems for her at the moment.
"We need to search her before we bring her before the queen," the man with the bowler hat announced. She supposed he was the one in charge since he was the only one, thus far, who had issued any commands.
An ominous mechanical clicking sound caused Alice's muscles to tense defensively. She knew even without looking that Mad March had turned his sightless porcelain gaze onto her. His glassy visage was another element which unnerved her. The young Slayer set much store by reading expressions and eyes, and such a thing was impossible with the expressionless face of Mad March.
"Gladly," Mad March crooned in his tinny, mechanical voice. There was again that sense of malevolent glee in the air.
"Not you," bowler hat man barked in warning. Alice ticked her head to the side when she heard the undercurrent of fear in the man's voice.
He's afraid of him, she realized. How was it possible to control such a creature, then? She recalled how the man in the bowler hat and club medallion had used the queen to get Mad March to stand down. The Queen of Hearts must have had some manner to control or threaten Mad March. The thought of being powerful enough to keep a monster like him in line caused Alice to rethink her previous notions about the notorious queen. Hatter's words came back to haunt her. "You can't negotiate with the queen! She's crazy!" He had been utterly terrified at even the mention of her going before the queen. She was now starting to see why.
The girl gritted her teeth and submitted to a search by one of the Suits, hoping it would not resort to a strip or cavity search. She lifted up her arms and followed his simple directives as he patted her down. When his hands drifted to the rip in her dress with the grungy white of the linen bandages peaking through, she stiffened. The Suit paused in his search, his hands hovering over the area.
"What happened there?" the bowler hat man inquired coolly. She wondered why it was he who asked and not the Suit who was searching her. She knew these men possessed the ability to speak.
"I fell into that pit and hit one of the sticks," Alice replied, shrugging. The wound was still only partially-healed, but she knew that it would appear to be well over a day old.
The man was silent for a moment, his dark eyes roving over her as if he were deciding whether or not she was crazy enough to cut into herself and hide the ring within her own flesh. He appeared to accept the explanation and then nodded at the Suit to continue searching. He briskly patted her down, unapologetically running his hands up her thighs, but not as far as she feared he might go. He then ran his fingers through her freshly cleaned dark locks. Once the inspection was complete, the Suit turned to face the bowler hat man.
"It appears she does not have the ring in her possession, Sir," the Suit reported in a flat voice.
"Bullshit," Mad March snapped. "We gotta search her everywhere."
Alice's entire body tensed up at that remark, and her fists clenched tightly. "I don't have it," she said tersely. She eyed the Suits warily, but carefully kept her gaze from straying to Mad March.
The bowler hat man regarded her stoically for a few moments before sighing. "We're almost there anyway. We will let the queen decide if a more thorough search is necessary."
She could have kissed the man right then. It would not have done to have all her plans ruined simply because they attempted to strip search her.
The remainder of the time upon the Scarab passed in uneasy silence as Alice drew upon her meditation skills to focus her breathing and her mind. All Slayers were trained in yoga and other meditative arts to help center themselves and better control their immense strength. She sought out Jack's image to remind herself why she was enduring all this, but every time she brought his face up it would eventually morph into Hatter's face. Her breathing would quicken when she saw in her mind's eye that dashing roguish smile, those glossy chocolate eyes, and that crazy, unruly hair curling up over the brim of that damned porkpie hat.
I hope he's not too angry with me. Of course, I'll probably never see him again so it won't really matter if he is pissed with me, I guess.
The girl opened her eyes when she noticed the Scarab was slowing down. Her eyes widened at the sight she viewed from the wide window adorning the front portion of the airborne vehicle. In the distance there was a huge building rising up from the ground. It was one of the most bizarre structures she had ever seen, but from everything else she had seen in this place, she supposed it was nothing for a Wonderland building. The base of the building was extremely narrow, and as it rose it got progressively wider as if someone had tipped a pyramid over and set it upon its apex. The structure looked to have been set up in a stacking pattern, with different layers jutting out at opposing angles. As the Scarab got closer, Alice could make out the images of playing card suits inscribed onto the outer walls of the separate layers while triangular shaped windows adorned the adjacent sides. Atop the building were enormous red heart structures which were brightly lit up. HAPPY HEARTS CASINO continually flashed directly from beneath the large hearts. Underneath the title of the place the phrase LIVING THE DREAM scrolled along a horizontal bar much like the digital scroll bar she had seen at the Tea House.
After having seen the breath-taking beauty and dignity of the crumbling monuments remaining of the Kingdom of the Knights, Alice felt slightly repulsed by this garish building. If this was how the outside appeared, she could only imagine how gaudy the inside would look.
The Scarab flew toward an overhanging rectangular slab of concrete at what Alice suspected was the highest level of the building. This level was directly below the bright flashing lights of the top of the building, and it stood out from all the others in its relative simplicity. There were no playing card suits inscribed on the walls, but a mere line of white columns set in between long, rectangular windows.
Alice drew in a deep breath of air, bringing her mind to focus and calm as the Scarab smoothly landed upon the surface of the overhang. She banished Hatter's face from her thoughts, feeling she could not allow herself to be distracted by her guilt and inexplicable yearning. She would need every ounce of self-confidence and control she possessed to attempt to bluff the Queen of Hearts into a negotiation of Jack's release. When the Suits ringed her once more (including the two token ones who were assigned to flank her and hold onto her upper arms) she summoned her nerve. Throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high, the captive girl descended the ramp into the outside world.
Her blood pulsed alarmingly in her temples, ominously echoing the furious beat of her heart in her ears, as she stepped onto the surface. She had to be hundreds, perhaps a thousand, feet in the air, and the notion of it was draining the nerve she was desperately clinging to. Her face and neck felt warm and clammy at the same time while beads of sweat were sliding down her skin. Mad March's nearness was not helping matters either. It was like a double whammy, being forced to be so close to two things which instigated such crippling fear. The Suits were leading her toward a glass door, and Alice was shocked by how well she was keeping up when it felt like her lower limbs had gone completely numb. Her stomach tossed its contents around within her, leading her to wonder if last night's grilled borogove would end up splattered on the crisp charcoal suits of some of her captors.
That was not such a bad thing, she decided.
Though she knew she was entering the domain of the enemy, Alice had never been so glad to step inside a building. With the numbness and nausea abating to more manageable levels, she was more able to study her surroundings. The men led her down a hallway which was surprisingly bare of ostentation. Dark gray stone lined the hallways, giving off a sinister ambiance. An occasional plaque upon the wall would showcase the large red heart emblem just in case someone was to forget who ruled this place.
They came to the sleek chrome doors of an elevator. Alice wondered if the inside would look the same as an ordinary elevator, or if it would resemble that strange bus-elevator back at the Great Library. She was somewhat disappointed to find the doors opened to a normal rectangular space with wallpaper covering the walls in a pattern of red hearts. The girl had a feeling that, by the time all this nonsense was through, she would never want to lay eyes on red hearts ever again.
I never much cared for Valentine's Day anyway, she thought to herself as she was filed into the small space with Mad March and the bowler hat man. She was at least grateful they did not seek to fit the entire company of Suits onto the elevator all at once.
The doors opened into a lobby area with an array of solid red and solid white chairs set in the center of the room. The walls were the same dark gray shade, but down here there was more décor. Red hearts along with diamonds, spades, and clubs adorned the walls. They emerged from the elevator with the bowler hat man in the lead and Mad March bringing up the rear. She was not pleased with how that fell out, for she would much rather have kept the man/thing in her line of vision.
There were people crossing the lobby floor, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs or small groups. The vast majority of these people were women dressed in white, knee-length dresses with large, glittering red diamonds on them. They also wore strange, sparkling red coverings upon their heads and tall crimson boots with heels that made audible clicking sounds against the stone floor. They barely gave Alice a turn of their heads as she crossed the lobby, although she noted how they gave the three of them a wide berth. She scanned the area for possible exits, but all she saw were red doors and elevators which could have led anywhere. The only way into and out of the building could not have been up at the top level. If it were, that would make an escape (especially an escape where she would, no doubt, be pursued) incredibly complicated.
The entire time Alice was being led to whatever destination these people intended she was subtly scrutinizing the area for anything she might use to her advantage. Quietly she said she would come, but she would be damned if she was not going to be prepared to leave in a manner which was not so quiet. The occasional little table with a green houseplant set upon it or the huge dark gray vase would be marked down as a potential weapon or tool of distraction. The locations of stairways and any particularly interesting doors were noted and filed away for future use. She paid special attention to labels, especially the one that was marked Laboratory. A few people walked out of there dressed in the strangest lab regalia she had ever seen. Overlarge plastic lab jackets with ridiculously large collars on top of yellow shirts and gray slacks.
They approached a set of red double doors. The bowler hat man pushed through them and Alice, of course, had no choice but to follow him inside. What the room held caused her to pause and gasp aloud in shock.
"Keep moving," Mad March ordered, giving her a little push. The girl obeyed, but could not suppress the look of abject horror on her face.
The room was filled with people, and not just those diamond girls in their white dresses and red boots. There were probably over a hundred people from her world in this room. They hailed from several different races and age groups and there appeared to be about as many men as women. Most people were dressed in casual, everyday clothing. Some were dressed in occupational uniforms. As she passed through, she saw a man wearing the uniform of a police officer and a man dressed up in a postal worker uniform. She even saw a young woman wearing a set of green scrubs, a surgical cap still tied around her forehead. All of them had a few things in common, however. Every single one of these people had the winding green mark branding their skin; most on their faces, some on their necks. All of were standing upright with their eyes open, but their expressions were dazed as if they were sleepwalking. And, once Alice happened to glance downward, she saw that not a single one of the people from her world was wearing any sort of footwear. Their feet were bare upon the lacquered floor of black and white circles set into squares.
A quick scan, however, left her disappointed. Her boyfriend was not among these people. Jack was being kept somewhere else in this place.
This single room actually lived up to the name of the place, as it had all the typical accoutrements of a casino. There was a spinning roulette wheel, a blackjack table with one of those young diamond women doling out the cards with a saccharine smile on her heavily painted face, as well as coin slots and a table for craps. There was even a small stage area where three women danced erotically in feathered headdresses and sheer, gauzy dresses with dazzling silver diamonds covering their breasts and groins. A line of men stood before the stage, their heads cocked to the side, jaws agape, and the same glazed over expression on their faces.
Well, at least the guys mindlessly ogling the showgirls seems about right, Alice noted to herself in an ironic tone.
"What the hell is this?" she asked aloud, halfway turning around and nearly bumping into one of the oysters. The man, a middle-aged fellow with graying hair dressed in a brown tweed suit, did not glance at her. He did not even seem to notice she was there or had bumped into him at all.
"Hey," she said to the man. He gave no response.
"Hey, wake up! Jesus Christ, these people are half asleep! What the fuck have you done to them?" she questioned furiously.
She would have proceeded to poke and shake the man had not Mad March intervened. He grabbed her arm and roughly yanked her away from the man. His hands were colder than ice and it took everything the girl had not to utilize her strength and lash out at him to escape his unpredictably strong grip. She looked up to see the bowler hat man walking back towards them with an aggrieved expression upon his face.
"Contain yourself, oyster. You are about to be brought before Their Majesties the King and Queen of Hearts. I suggest you show more restraint in their presence if you value your head," the man warned her in a stern tone.
Alice bit back the saucy retort she wanted to throw back at him and merely nodded her head. She felt Mad March's grip slacken somewhat and took the opportunity to shake out of his touch and quickly scurry ahead of him. Her skin crawled in revulsion where Mad March's cold fingers had touched it.
She followed the bowler hat man into a shorter hallway where windows lined the wall, allowing the weak light of day to stream into the corridor. There was a larger set of double doors to their left and the handles were carved into the shape of a heart. Two Suits stood guard beside the doors. She was shocked to see they were dressed in white instead of charcoal, with large red hearts upon their suit jackets and a bright red A upon their right shoulders.
They're Aces. Aces of Hearts.
Alice knew they were going to enter those doors even before the bowler hat man stopped before them. The guards and the heart-shaped door handles all implied that those doors led into the Throne Room where the Heart sovereigns awaited.
Here goes nothing, she thought to herself, mimicking Hatter's voice in her head when he had said it to her right before she launched him out of Charlie's pit.
The room was huge and sparsely populated with a few clusters of richly dressed men and women standing on the raised levels lining the wall. They began whispering frantically at the appearance of Alice. Instead of the lacquered tile flooring of the casino room the floor of the throne room was covered in a thick, ivory carpet. Gauzy white drapes flowed gracefully from the ceiling to the floor. At the far end of the room there was a series of steps leading up to a bi-leveled dais. Standing before the dais off to Alice's right was a man dressed in black robes with a silver club medallion identical to the one worn by the man in the bowler hat hanging from his neck. He wore a club shaped hat upon his own head.
On the lower level of the dais, a man dressed in a dark suit with black velvet stripes sat in a red, high backed swivel chair. He looked to be in his fifties and he was somewhat heavyset with short brown hair which grew in small, tight curls. He grinned widely at Alice, immediately turning his neck to glance up at the higher level of the dais. The girl followed his gaze to see that it was she who sat in the seat of power, a throne carved into the shape of a large crimson heart.
While Alice could not exactly say she had relished the moment she would meet the infamous Queen of Hearts, there had definitely been a sort of dark anticipation to the ordeal. There was a strange sense of gratification at finally coming face to face with the woman who had become the cause of all of her troubles (not to mention all of Wonderland's troubles). The girl had to admit, the woman who sat upon the throne was not what she had expected. But, at the same time, she seemed to fit the image of Wonderland's psychotic queen.
She was dressed in dark red robes with heart designs intricately woven into the fabric with black sequins. Her hair was the color of luscious red wine with part of it pulled up into an elaborate coif of swirling crimson curls. Her face bore the remnants of the ravishing beauty she must have possessed in her youth. Age had succeeded in adding weight to her frame and face as well as spidery wrinkles to the corners of her eyes and mouth. The skin of her neck sagged just slightly, but one could see even without the makeup her skin was creamy and pale. Her lips were full and colored in none other than dark red lipstick. Her eyes were blue, but there was not even the slightest hint of warmth to them. They regarded Alice with cool disdain while her lips curled down into a frown of distaste.
Her demeanor was none other than that of one born and raised in royalty. Her posture was ramrod straight even sitting down in her luxuriant throne and her hands were gracefully folded and resting upon her lap. Though her eyes were cold and unsympathetic, they were also sharp as a blade.
Alice straightened her posture and stood just before the dais steps as the eyes and judgment of the sovereigns and their fawning subjects descended upon her. The bowler hat man bowed graciously with a murmured, "Your Majesties." She did not know if Mad March bowed, but she knew that she would not bow. These people were not her monarchs.
"We have succeeded in capturing the oyster girl, Alice," the bowler hat man informed them.
"Yes, we can see that, you idiot. The girl is standing right here before us," the queen snapped in an impatient tone. "What I want to know is where my ring is. Did you succeed in getting that from her?"
The bowler hat man fumbled for an answer, no doubt afraid of the repercussions his answer would bring. After a few awkward moments, the man reclaimed his voice, though it was trembling as he replied, "Ah, well, the girl did not...does not...appear to have the ring on her person, Your Majesty."
"What?" the queen spat, her eyes sparking with ire. Whatever people had been standing near to the throne now backed away from it in alarm.
"You searched her, didn't you?" the king asked, rising from his seat. His tone lacked the same trill of danger and hostility his wife's bore.
"Yes, of course, Your Majesty," the bowler hat man said.
The king started slowly climbing down the steps, his gaze focusing on Alice. His eyes were a warm golden brown. In fact, they were very similar to the color of Jack's eyes. They looked her up and down with thoughtful interest.
"Well, we could always search her again...more thoroughly," he suggested slyly with a raised brow and a lascivious gleam to his eyes.
Alice pursed her lips and glared at the king in disgust and anger at his audacity. "It won't do you any good," she shot back in an acid tone.
"Oh, I don't know about that," the king drawled, his gaze once more roving over her in the same way a hungry man would eye a steak.
"Winston!" The queen's sharp voice sliced through the air, and its unspoken command forced the king to back off with a contrite expression on his face. He distanced himself from Alice by about half a foot and awkwardly patted down his suit and cleared his throat.
Wow, is he whipped, Alice mused to herself.
"Where did you hide it, girl?" the queen demanded imperiously.
Alice sighed and looked the older woman straight in the eyes. Queen this woman may be, but Alice was a Vampire Slayer. She may not have wanted to expose her powers to the rulers of Wonderland, but she definitely did not want them to think she was one to be easily intimidated. The queen thrived off of the knowledge that she intimidated everyone and anyone. It was time for someone to break up that paradigm. If she could make the queen see that she was not one to back down, her demands for Jack's release just might make it to fruition.
"That's for me to know and you to maybe find out...if it suits me," the girl replied in a somewhat cockier voice than she was accustomed to using.
There was a collective intake of breath around the room. Even the king's eyes practically bugged out of his head after Alice spoke so impertinently to the queen. The bowler hat man edged away from the girl as if the queen's inevitable homicidal rage toward her was like a net which would also fall upon him. The queen herself sat frozen; no doubt stunned someone had spoken to her in such a blatantly insolent manner. Her face bore no expression, but her blue eyes were raging with fiery anger.
"Do you know who you are speaking to, you foolish little oyster?" the queen intoned, her voice curiously calm in spite of the indignant rage seething through her eyes.
Alice inclined her head. "I know perfectly well who I am speaking to," she replied flatly. "And, like I told that white-haired asshole, if you want the ring, you'll have to play the game my way." She folded her arms across her chest, knowing this was the universal sign of stubbornness.
A muscle twitched in the queen's cheek as she sat upon the throne, speechless for almost a full minute. Her impressive bosom heaved upward as she drew in a deep breath and rose from her seat. Even from where Alice was standing, she could see the queen was short of stature. She was even shorter than Alice herself.
That's one hell of a Napoleon complex she's sporting.
"You want to strike a bargain," the queen stated in a neutral tone. She started to descend the steps, her gaze locked onto Alice.
The girl nodded curtly. "Something like that."
The king scratched his chin, his brow furrowing. "Yes, yes. If we give you what you want, you'll tell us where you hid the ring," he said slowly, as if a bargain were a difficult concept to comprehend.
"Yes," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "That's how bargains work."
The queen was now standing next to her husband. Though he towered over her, she was still undeniably the one who held the reins of the relationship. The king did not appear to be the sharpest tack in the box, so perhaps it was better his wife was the one who wore the crown.
"The question is," the king pondered aloud, "did you leave it in your world...or in this one?"
A whip-like sound followed that question as the queen smacked her husband upside the head with a twisted expression of disgust on her face. "Winston, you idiot! Now she knows we don't know if she brought it with her! I told you to always let me do the talking!"
The king winced, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I'm sorry, dearest," he mumbled ruefully. "This...interrogation business is very tricky."
"Wait!" the man suddenly shouted. He thrust his index finger in Alice's direction. "Is she really that clever?"
The queen did not respond by slapping him this time. In fact, her red lips curled up into a smile dripping with malice. "Oh yes, I think she just may be," the regal woman said loftily. She walked down to stand before Alice, the malicious smile still plastered upon her face. "You walked into Mad March's trap on purpose, didn't you?"
Alice was not sure if that was a rhetorical question, but, nevertheless, she nodded her head. The queen, in turn, nodded her own knowingly. "Yes, I thought so. You wanted him to capture you because you did not know the way to the casino," she mused in her imperious voice.
"Of course," the queen continued pragmatically. "You'd only do that if you'd hidden the ring first. Somewhere very discreet, am I right?" The woman's eyes were glittering with dark mirth, as if this were all a delightful game to her.
Alice remained silent, allowing the queen to continue her little monologue uninterrupted. She would not rob the woman of her enjoyment of thinking she had guessed the girl's every move like a chess piece on a game board.
"Your plan was to cut a deal with one of my cohorts, make your demands, and return the ring only when they'd been met," the queen said arrogantly. She circled the girl, silent for a few moments as she studied her.
"I find it curious, your bravado," the queen finally commented. "Most people in your position when face to face with the Queen of Hearts, the most powerful woman in the history of literature, would have lost their nerve. But you..." she trailed off, her blue eyes intent upon Alice's own blue eyes. "You haven't lost your nerve at all. Or you're just an incredibly good actress."
"I haven't lost my nerve," the girl confirmed. "And believe me when I say that I will never give up the ring's location unless you give me what I want."
The queen drew back, her eyes darting just behind Alice where Mad March was probably standing. Though the girl could not see him, she could feel his sickening presence. She did not really fear the Queen of Hearts, but she could not deny her fear of Mad March. She endeavored to conceal her agitation in his presence from the queen, knowing the woman would only use this weakness against her.
"Such confidence, you have," the queen remarked, a strange, indefinable note to her voice which caused Alice's heart to leap in warning. "You really think we haven't a clue about you, don't you?"
Alice schooled her features to reveal nothing but confusion, though her heart was beginning to hammer wildly in her chest. "What do you mean?" she asked in as neutral a tone as she could manage.
The queen did not answer right away, her ruby red lips curling up into a grotesque mockery of a victorious smile. "The White Rabbit told us some very interesting things occurred when he met you back in your world."
Oh shit.
Even if Alice had carefully controlled her features to not give anything away, she was certain the queen would notice the blood drain from her skin. In a flash, the incident with the white-haired man replayed in her mind. She recalled losing her temper and effortlessly lifting him off his feet and slamming him against a wall. In her extreme anger and lack of foresight, she had not guessed that such an act would come back to haunt her. The girl had not even thought about the man reporting everything back to his mistress. At the time, she had not even known she would be dealing with the Queen of Hearts.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the girl lied.
The Queen of Hearts regarded her with a raised brow, a skeptical look crossing her face. "Oh, you don't? Well, I do admit that I have my doubts. You are rather smaller than I expected for a girl who managed to lift a full grown man off his feet with one hand. It doesn't seem quite possible that you could possess such strength."
The queen then turned from Alice, her bright red curls whisking around her gracefully. She ascended the steps of the dais to stand upon the lower level, her back still turned away from the younger woman. "Still," the redhead uttered in an icy tone, "it's best to be prepared for such things."
Really, Alice should have known it was coming. The signs had all been there, but the girl had been reeling with self-recrimination over her impulsive actions against the white-haired man. When the queen snapped her fingers, the young Slayer should have been completely within the realm of capability to evade what was about to occur. She had felt and heard Mad March shift from behind her and her senses rose up in alarm. But, before her conscious mind caught up with reality, Mad March's arm had come around her chest and crushed her against him. She dispensed with her restraint from before and used the full force of her strength to throw his hold off of her.
Much to her horror, she failed. Slayers had immense strength, but it was not without its limits. Mad March may well have been a stone pillar embedded in the ground for all that she was able to push him away. His arm was clamped around her tightly, pressing down on her lungs and squeezing precious breaths of air from them. As if suffocation were not enough, her senses ran wild when she felt the cool sensation of metal press up against her pulsing carotid artery. Even though she could not see it, she could discern that the blade was razor sharp. Only a slight amount of pressure would need to be applied before arterial blood spray would start staining the immaculate ivory carpet.
Fuck my life! You've got to be kidding me!
"So, how about we strike that bargain?" The queen turned back around, an uncommonly cheerful smile on her face now that the balance of power had seemingly shifted in her favor.
Alice balled up all the loathing and anger within her and glared at the older woman, who laughed spitefully.
"You tell me where my ring is, and I will not order my lovely assassin to slit your throat," the queen said casually.
Mad March eased his grip just a bit, presumably to allow enough air into Alice's lungs to be able to speak. The girl took the opportunity to draw in deep calming breaths. While the situation may have exceeded her control just a little, there was yet a card to play. "Go ahead," Alice shot back in defiance. "Slit my throat. The dead don't speak. So you'll never find your precious ring."
The queen's expression flickered as she absorbed the weight of Alice's words. The girl held her breath at the indecision playing upon the older woman's striking features. When the woman sighed heavily, Alice knew she had her there. The young Slayer may well have valued her life, but, apparently, it did not match the value the queen put upon the ring. The ring was the only manner by which the queen held control over her people, and it appeared she was not willing to forsake it for anything.
"Very well," the queen reluctantly conceded. "What are your demands?"
Though Mad March did not release the girl from his hold, the slight pressure of the blade at her neck receded a little. Alice inhaled a deep, shaky breath. "I want you to free my boyfriend Jack Chase, and send us both home. When I'm certain that we're safe, I'll tell you where the ring is." This was the difficult part, for the girl had no intention of divulging the ring's true location. She had already imagined a false location to feed them with. The only obstacle was in getting them to buy into it. She mentally crossed her fingers as the queen thought upon her words. It was not so much to ask, to have one oyster (well, two) go free in exchange for the precious Stone of Wonderland.
A strange smile spread over the queen's face and she clasped her hands together in front of her. "Number nine!" she called.
The man in the black robes, silver club medallion, and club-shaped hat jumped to instant attention. He quickly walked over to stand before the queen and bowed in subservience. "Your Majesty?"
With her cold blue eyes upon Alice, the queen issued an order. "Go and fetch this Jack Chase and bring him here."
Alice frowned in confusion. How would they know which one Jack was? For she highly doubted they took down names when they abducted people from her world. She held her tongue, however, in the hopes that now things were starting to tip in her favor.
"But...ma'am," Number Nine stammered. Alice wondered if he had thought the same thing she had. How was he to know which of the many oysters Jack Chase was?
"Do as you're told!" the queen barked, sending the twitchy man scurrying away towards the large double doors.
The woman then walked back down the steps, her arrogant gaze upon Alice. The girl felt a cold shudder at the triumphant certainty in those eyes. There was something amiss here, she realized. The queen's demeanor did not suggest that she was reluctantly conceding to the demands of a wayward oyster girl. She seemed to be brimming with a sense of gleeful anticipation. What the queen was so thrilled about, the girl did not know, but she felt that it probably was not good for her.
At the queen's nod, Mad March released his grip upon her and drew back while she heard the double doors swing open behind her. Her heart began to beat furiously upon her ribcage.
"What a coincidence!" the queen chimed in a tone of mock surprise. "It appears Jack Chase was just outside the door! Me wonders why." Her voice carried an edge of vicious amusement, and it struck Alice's confidence to the core.
Turning around, the young woman gasped in mingled shock and relief to see that it was indeed her boyfriend walking upon the plush carpet. Such was her astounding relief to see him alive and unharmed that she gave no notice to his appearance and his general lack of happiness at seeing her. At the moment, all she cared about was that everything she had endured in this alien place had been all but vindicated. For once, something seemed to have finally gone right for her.
"Jack!" she breathed, running towards him. She launched herself at his tall frame and threw her arms around him. "Oh my god, are you okay? Did they hurt you? What..." her voice trailed off into confusion when she realized Jack's arms had not reciprocated the hug she was giving him. He was standing still, his arms hanging slack at his sides.
"I'm fine," her boyfriend replied in a flat voice. "What are you doing here?"
Alice pulled away from her one-sided embrace with Jack, her stomach turning over within her. "What do you mean? I came here to rescue you." Having drawn away from her lover to stand in front of him, his appearance finally caught up to her conscious notice. He was not wearing the same clothes he had left her home in. Instead, he was wearing a crimson suit jacket over top of a crisp, white buttoned shirt overlaid with a black tie. His slacks were likewise black in color. Even more astonishing than the wardrobe change was the change in his physical appearance. His brown hair was gone, replaced by platinum blonde locks which laid slick upon his head instead of sweeping over his brow. His eyes, at least, were the same golden brown. But where once they had been warm and inviting, they were now closed off, locking away any hint into his thoughts and feelings.
"Jack?" Alice asked, her voice sounding so small and weak. "What happened to you?"
The queen's voice cut through the reeling confusion and shock. "We found her running around in the woods all on her todd." It took a few moments to figure out the woman was addressing Jack. The squat monarch had glided over to stand beside the couple. "I brought her here. I was very curious to see what sort of tart my son has been running around with these days."
Her what?
Alice's brain temporarily blanked out under the weight of that revelation. She felt dazed, almost as if she had just taken a crushing blow to the temple by a demon. It was just too bizarre, too impossible, for such a notion to be true. But, then, logic started working its wonders, and in a quick flash, details which had once been overlooked or beyond comprehension started to fall into place. Hatter had asked her where Jack had gotten the ring. What she had not told him was that her boyfriend had claimed that the object had been in his family for a very long time. She had never realized the full significance of those words until now.
"Son?" Alice repeated obtusely. "You're her son?" This time her voice took on a note of anger. Jack's eyes finally showed a glimmer of emotion, which he sought to hide by glancing away from her. That emotion had been guilt.
"His real name is Jack Heart," the queen informed her smugly. "Yes, he lied to you about that as well, I'm afraid." The woman's mouth drooped down into a fake expression of sympathy.
"Mother," Jack pleaded, glancing towards the queen.
The word was like a sword thrust to the gut. Whatever shred of doubt Alice had been clinging to was destroyed by that one word. She could have made herself believe it was some elaborate scheme constructed by the Queen of Hearts. Denial was a powerful, attractive, and heady thing. But there was no denying now that Jack Chase had been a cruel sham, and she had eaten up every single lie he had fed to her like a glutton. She did not know who she ought to be angrier at: Jack, for deceiving her from the beginning, or herself, for foolishly believing everything.
I'm such an idiot.
"Don't 'mother' me, you odious quisling!" the queen scolded. "Your girlfriend has hidden the Stone of Wonderland out there in the bushes somewhere!"
"She's not my girlfriend," Jack declaimed, his voice curiously devoid of emotion. His gaze slid over her, his eyes impossible to read as he added in a hollow tone, "She's nothing to me."
Alice gasped as if she had been viciously kicked in the stomach. What had happened here? At one point in the journey had things turned so wrong? How could he be doing this to her? Why was he doing this to her? So many questions rose up in her mind, but her tongue, so sharp and sure once before, had appeared to lose all ability to move. She could only stand there, taking the verbal blows as best as she could.
"Then why did you give her my ring?" his mother demanded angrily.
Jack sighed wearily. "As I told you before, I didn't give her the ring. She took it." He glanced from his mother to her, his golden brown eyes shifting restively.
"She was just an affair, that's all. Someone to pass the time with as I explored her world," he explained. "I took the ring so as to be certain I could return, but I had no idea she would go through my things while I was asleep."
"What?" Alice sputtered as sheer outrage enabled her to find her voice. "That's a lie. You gave it to me! I didn't want it and you slipped it in my fucking pocket!" Dangerously close to punching the lying, back-stabbing man whom she had risked so much to rescue, Alice took a few steps away from him.
"Alice," Jack said softly, coming closer to her. She sucked in a deep breath, telling herself that she would likely find Mad March's knife in her back if she slugged the prince in the face.
"Tell us where you hid the ring," he requested. She frowned at the insincerity she heard in his voice. Just what was he playing at now?
Glaring at him, Alice flatly said, "No."
"I didn't ask you to come here, you know," he remarked. He was lying about that, too, but now Alice was not certain for whose benefit it was. She felt like she was on a stage playing a part she did not know the words to. Jack had definitely asked her to come meet his family. Why he would need to lie about that or even bring it up, she did not know. But it made her suspicious and doubtful. His eyes flitted from her to his mother along with a miniscule nod of his head.
Is he...trying to hint at something?
"I certainly didn't ask you to take the ring, so, come on. Tell everyone where it is!" Jack raised his voice on the last part. It was almost theatrical, the way he was speaking to her. Unlike his mother, he did not appear to really be interested in the answer to the question.
He's trying to give you a "get out of jail free card", dummy, a voice inside her said.
"No," Alice began slowly, watching Jack's face. He seemed to approve of her answer, but there was yet more he wanted her to say. He silently mouthed the words go home to her. "I won't tell anyone where it is until I go home."
"Perhaps that's not such a bad idea," Jack said again in that overly loud tone of voice. He turned around to face his mother. "If I take her home, you'll be sure to get it back."
Alice looked up at the queen as the older woman mulled over the idea. The ruler sighed and shook her head. "Brilliant. But, the only niggle is, I wouldn't trust you if you told me the sun was round and besides, we've had to shut the Looking Glass down altogether now. I wouldn't be able to send the little harlot home even if I wanted to. Not without the ring."
Oh shit, I forgot about that. How that had slipped her mind was beyond her, for she had considered the consequences of leaving the ring behind in the encampment when she had been making the decision to come to the casino. Her first and foremost priority had simply been to get Jack out of the casino. Everything else had seemed unimportant in comparison to that.
The queen's robes swished softly as she glided towards the double doors. "I'm sure there's a way we could win over the girl without going all the way back to home, sweet home," the woman mused.
The doors opened, then, without the queen even raising a finger. Alice's brows knit together in perplexity as she saw the person who was standing in the doorway for a few seconds before proceeding to strut into the Throne Room. It was a woman, but not just any woman. She put all the supermodels in the young Slayer's world to shame with her abundance of golden locks framing a face which had been elegantly constructed. The arch of her brows, the line of her jaw, the shape of her lips; a sculptor could have scarce done better in molding perfection. Her statuesque frame was clothed in a metallic gold dress. The fabric descended from the bodice across the woman's torso, leaving the sides bare to show the fair beauty of her glorious curves. Her long legs peaked through high slits cut into the skirt.
"Ah, look who's here," the queen remarked sardonically. "Duchess."
The flaxen-haired woman gracefully curtseyed (earning a lewd "meow" from the king). With her head bowed, she uttered in a voice which was more of an airy purr, "Majesty". The cadence of her voice suggested that of a delicate, wilting flower, the hallmark of a demure noble lady. Alice knew better than to assume such, however, when the woman met her eyes. There was unexpected steel in those green-hazel eyes.
Who is she? What could she possibly have to do with anything?
The queen walked over to stand next to the tall beauty. "Jack," the older woman said scathingly. "Have you nothing to say to your fiancé?"
Was there to be no end to the shocking revelations Alice must endure? The girl felt her throat close all of a sudden, temporarily unable to speak under the weight of such a truth. Not only was Jack the son of a queen, but now he was engaged to a duchess who looked like the living incarnation of Aphrodite? This truth was a blow that hurt even more than learning he was a prince. Every word of affection he had spoken to her, every moment they had spent together in tender intimacy was brought before Alice's crumbling mind. He may never have actually said the "L word", but she thought he had made it quite clear that he cared deeply for her. What a grand ruse all that had been. Why would he want a girl like her when he had a noble beauty like the duchess? It had all been a wicked game to him.
Though Alice did not speak a word, the queen must have noticed her distress. "Don't tell me my son forgot to mention his lifelong love?" the queen sneered in that tone of fake incredulity. "His wildly romantic engagement and upcoming wedding?" As the woman spoke, the duchess had begun to slowly walk a circle around Alice.
Alice drew herself up, unwilling to show the queen just how much this discovery stung her. She looked at Jack, who was studiously inspecting his feet. "You bastard," she said in a low voice.
The gold-clad duchess approached her front while Alice stood frozen in her shell of anger and betrayal. Standing mere inches away, the taller woman surveyed her like she was a gown fresh from the seamstress, inspecting each and every imperfection. "So, this is..." the woman said softly. Oddly enough, there was no hint of malice in the woman's voice. There was mere curiosity.
"Yes, I'm afraid it is," the queen replied.
The duchess lifted up a gold-spangled wrist to lightly catch the underside of Alice's chin. Her green-hazel eyes continually gazed at her in that curious, scrutinizing manner. "Really? I'm starting to wonder about your tastes, Jack. I mean, if you think she's pretty..." The woman's long, manicured red nails, lightly trailed up the girl's cheek. "What must you think of me?" Though the words belied it, there was still no sign of any anger or spite to the woman's tone. She seemed perplexed enough, but that was all Alice was able to discern from the woman's subtle cues. Whatever this woman was truly thinking, she was quite adept at concealing it. The young Slayer supposed that was a survival trait in this dangerous court.
"He thinks you're the most gorgeous creature in the world," the queen assured the duchess dismissively. "That's why he's marrying you."
The touching was beginning to unnerve and annoy the girl. It made her feel entirely too much like an object. Unable to stop herself, Alice slapped the duchess's hand away from her dark hair. The woman dropped her arm and withdrew from her presence. She sauntered over to Jack's side, artfully wrapping her arms around his shoulder. Alice was struck by how well those two fit together. The duchess was only an inch or two shorter than Jack, and she completely complemented his new look in a way she herself never could. There was no denying this woman was reared in this glittering, aristocratic world. How could she compete, hailing from a world of constant battles and death? A prince and a duchess certainly made for a more sensible pairing than a prince and a Vampire Slayer.
"You see, Alice, my dear," the queen began, walking towards the girl. "Jack has been engaged for months now. His flight through the Looking Glass was no more than a diversion. A stag spree. A wave goodbye to his mischievous youth."
The older woman stopped to stand in front of Alice, not standing nearly as close as the duchess had been, but still too close for the girl's comfort. She chewed on her bottom lip to keep from flinging all the insults and condemnations which were screaming in her skull.
"You're going to tell us where you hid the ring," the queen demanded in a deadly tone. "And then you're going to wish you had never laid eyes on my son."
Alice almost snorted derisively. At least the queen was going to see one of her demands met. The girl already was beginning to wish she had never met Jack.
"Well, I'd better run," Jack suddenly interjected in a rushed tone. He whisked out of the duchess's grasp to insert himself in between his mother and Alice, taking the girl's hands in both of his own. She briefly thought about breaking every bone in his hands with just one squeeze and then quashed the notion. Physically attacking Jack would only provide a weak, superficial satisfaction. It would do nothing to blunt the shredding betrayal tearing through her. She forced herself to glance up at him, seeing the sorrow and regret roiling in his gold-brown eyes. "Good-bye, Alice. I want you to know that I forgive you for taking the ring."
Alice felt something cool, hard, and metallic press into her palm, and she shot Jack a questioning look. He gave the slightest shake of his head to indicate that she was not to ask him any questions. This was something he did not want anyone else to see. Out loud, he merely said in a placating tone, "I know you're upset with me. I don't blame you for that."
He then leaned forward to bestow a featherweight kiss on the crown of her head while whispering, "He's here."
Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? Who's here? They were questions she knew she could not ask, but they tumbled around in her mind as Jack pulled away from her, leaving the as yet unknown object hidden in her balled fist. The only possible "he" Alice could think of was Hatter. Panic seized her at the thought of Hatter being in the casino. Had they captured him? And, if they had, why had they not attempted to use his life in exchange for her giving up the ring's location? Hatter's life was the one and only thing that would have made her immediately confess where she had hidden the ring.
No, she did not believe Hatter was here, nor did she think he was the "he" Jack had spoken of. But, as she highly doubted it was Charlie, who else could it be? Alice did not exactly have a lot of acquaintances here in Wonderland.
"Well, goodbye then," Jack told her in a wooden tone. He turned from her then, walking over to the duchess.
"Your Grace," he addressed the lovely woman while inclining his head and holding out his arm. The duchess smiled, and, with nary a second glance at Alice, the two linked arms and ambled out the doors.
The doors slammed shut with a resounding boom, making the girl almost flinch at the finality of it. She gripped the object in her hand, not daring to hazard a peak at it. No one seemed to notice she had it. Alice wanted to be sure it stayed that way.
"Take her to the Truth Room," the queen ordered, her attention directed behind Alice where, as always, Mad March lurked. She grimaced as his iron grip came down upon her upper arm.
Alice realized she was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place. She could throw everything she had into fighting her captors, but she was not sure at all she could defeat Mad March. In fact, she was practically certain he would crush her in these particular circumstances. Even if she managed to somehow escape him, there were all the armed Suits she would have to attempt to either evade or fight off. She vaguely knew her way back to the lobby area of the casino, but she had no way of knowing which way to go to escape this fortress. The only way out of the building she knew of was back up the way she had come, and that was definitely out of the question.
This so-called Truth Room sounded more like a torture chamber. It was not that she was a stranger to pain. All Slayers had high pain tolerances, for such a thing was all but necessary in their vocation. She could probably withstand physical torture better than most people. The prospect of torture, however, still made her knees feel wobbly. If it were possible, the girl wanted to avoid being tortured.
It is possible if you misdirect them like you originally planned. You'd be helping yourself and the Resistance out. Just give them the false location you came up with.
But what would happen to her after that? Essentially, she would be forsaking her one use to the Queen of Hearts after that.
There was no time to consider what would become of her after she fed them the false location. Mad March was pulling her across the floor of the Throne Room, a full complement of Suits seemingly appearing out of nowhere to surround her. Her blood pounded through her arteries at dangerous speeds, the instinct to fight and struggle rising up and tensing all her muscles. They marched her back down the corridor towards the double doors she knew led to that game room full of oysters. It was there that the girl decided to finally chance a glance at the object Jack had surreptitiously slipped into her hand.
She unfurled her fingers to find it was a watch lying in her palm. It was an outdated man's watch with a large, square clock face and a wide linked wrist band. The metal was a dark gun-metal gray. Initially, she stared at it with uncomprehending eyes, wondering what the significance behind an old watch was supposed to be. She wished there had been some way Jack could have been a little more descriptive. After she was certain no one was paying any mind to her studying the object in her hand, she peered closer at the watch. The hour and minute hands were both frozen in time. There was even a little date meter at the top of the clock face. The date read Mar 23.
March 23rd had been the day her father had mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen nor heard from again.
"He's here."
Alice's mind reeled, and had Mad March not been pulling her along, she would have stopped dead in her tracks from total, heart-stopping shock. As it was, her heart merely forgot to thud along for a few beats. She numbly turned the watch over to see the back of the clock face, her hands slick with sweat all of a sudden. Sure enough, inscribed into the metal of the back were the initials R.H.
R.H. for Robert Hamilton, husband of Carol Hamilton and father of Alice Hamilton.
"Dad?" Alice whispered aloud, scarce believing what her eyes were showing her and what Jack had tried to tell her.
This watch belonged to her father. Her father was in Wonderland, in the casino.
Accompanying that revelation were the echoes of the Cheshire's maniacal laughter deep within the recesses of her mind.
I figured if they have the technology to resurrect a beheaded man and substitute a rabbit cookie jar for his head, they have the technology to juice him up with magical steroids. Seems only logical to me. Actions have to have consequences from time to time.
As to my question pertaining to M-rated bonuses last chapter, I'm happy to see a warm reception to the idea. I cannot tell you when any would be released, but the dream-sequence one would probably be released closer to the end of this story, perhaps after I've already finished it. Thanks for the enthusiasm hehe!