“Stunning work, as always.”
“What do you expect, when my sister dear does nothing but bark orders from the sidelines?”
“We only wish to keep Our lazy brother on his toes. You should thank Us.”
The conversation was faint, as if it could fade into the night breeze. Alice moaned and lifted her head.
The graveyard had disappeared; she lay in a beautifully manicured, miniature garden. Green ivy and leaves cut through the vivid red of roses. Even the breeze caressing her body seemed to shimmer.
“……”
It was the secret rose garden in Hatter Mansion—the one limited to two special visitors. Nostalgia welled up in Alice just as realization dropped her stomach.
This is…a dream.
Alice was in the Country of Diamonds. Even if she’d moved back to Hearts or Clover, it was way too convenient for her to land here. Her eyes followed the voices.
Vivaldi, Queen of Hearts, and the Mad Hatter, Blood Dupre, sat at a nearby table. They shot loving barbs at each other and seemed to overlook Alice entirely.
“B-Blood?” she whispered, her voice a tiny croak. “Vivaldi…?”
They didn’t respond. A weak smile pulled at her lips.
She didn’t like intruding on their private time, anyway.
I could only dirty this beautiful place.
Alice loved beautiful things. It was why she’d fallen in love with this location, where she could see two beautiful people against a perfect backdrop. A small, exquisite space, close yet distant from her, cut off from the rest of the world.
She watched Blood walk to a nearby vine and twist his wrist in it. He twisted over and over, the vine sliding up his arm.
“Blood,” she breathed. “Why…did you…”
“Why did you let me come here?”
The Blood of Hearts and Clover had invited her into this sacred place. She had no idea why. And even though he’d hit on her and made rude comments, he’d never once touched her in a genuinely sexual way. Just little teases. Just some goading that riled her up and made him smile wickedly. He didn’t mean it.
He’d never pinned her down like the Blood in the Country of Diamonds.
He’d never had reason to touch her like that. Or maybe he had reason not to touch her.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, Vivaldi was gone. Only Blood remained at a short distance, that vine of roses snaking around his arm. He spoke in a low, breathy voice, like he was talking to himself.
“Blood…?”
Her reedy voice barely made a sound, but he suddenly reacted.
“Alice.”
He called her name as if in response, and her heart thundered in her chest. But she didn’t think he was actually answering her.
And that wasn’t his voice. The Blood of Hearts and Clover never called to her like that.
He looked exactly the same—his suit, his hat, the shape of his face were just like the old Blood, down to the tiniest detail.
But his eyes were different. He was strong, but seemed too young to use that strength to the fullest. His gaze was hot.
This was Blood Dupre of the Country of Diamonds.
The moment she realized that…the garden faded away.
She jolted awake somewhere dark, her cheek crushed against a cold floor.
Something had been tied over her eyes…a blindfold? She felt cords binding her arms and feet.
“Where am I?” she breathed. When she tried to move, something hard rammed into her side.
“Ow!”
“Hold still,” somebody snarled. “Make any funny moves and you’re dead!”
Judging from the unfamiliar voice, someone stood over her—and had probably kicked her. She wanted to scream at him, but she knew that would be stupid. She bit the inside of her cheek.
She remembered the voices she’d heard before passing out. Were they the people attacking Jericho? Had they captured her?
Then…they can’t be Hatters, she thought quickly. Even they wouldn’t treat me like this. Who exactly had attacked the graveyard?
She felt unharmed, and she was tied up, so someone had decided she was too useful to kill. She couldn’t suppress a sigh at her calculating thoughts.
I guess I’ve really gotten used to this world. She didn’t know if that made her glad or depressed.
Someone shouted in the distance. Male voices hissed at each other over her.
“Here they come…!”
Someone shoved something hard and metallic against her head—the barrel of a gun. Her face distorted in pain.
“Don’t move!” her captor ordered as he ground the barrel into her skull. “Whoever it is, he can’t save you that easily!”
She frantically shook her head. “No!” she gasped.
“Shut up! I told you not to—gah!”
A gunshot rang out, cutting him off. His grip went slack and the gun fell from her head as she heard him crumple to the floor.
“You should take your own advice and shut your mouth!”
“Th-the Gravekeep—”
WHAM
Something heavy hit something else, and the man finally went silent. Alice recoiled from the tangy scent of iron as strong fingers gripped her arm.
“Are you all right, Alice?”
“J-Jericho?”
He hauled her to a sitting position and pulled down her blindfold. The light dazzled her for a second, but she blinked until her sight returned.
Jericho’s prim suit was gone. The man before her, armed with a gun, was the fearsome leader of the Gravekeeper’s territory.
He shook his head and started untying her. “Forgive me,” he murmured quickly. “I didn’t know the painting had been vandalized. And now I’ve gotten you mixed up in my problems… I have to get you out of here.”
“B-but they’re after you, right?” she argued. “I’ll just slow you down!”
“I’ll be fine. This was my fault to begin with.”
She let him pull her to her feet. They ran to the exit; she tried to get him to leave in another direction, but he refused. He dragged her along behind him.
Sure enough, Faceless started popping up, shouting and pointing at the territory leader in their midst. Alice gasped and ran to keep up.
“It’s the damn Gravekeeper!” a voice shouted.
“Say your prayers, Jericho Bermuda!”
“You’re going down right now!”
Jericho flipped up his revolver.
The Faceless charged with guns, knives, even explosives—but Jericho just fired round after round into their shrieking bodies. They never even got close. He glanced back at Alice as his gun boomed.
“People underestimate me because I’m already dead,” he said coolly. “But they won’t stop me here.”
“Dammit,” someone snarled. “Take him down! Now!”
Jericho was a lone man against countless adversaries, but he didn’t even look strained. Alice knew the Role-Holders in Wonderland could just mow down the Faceless, so Jericho seemed as powerful as the other territory leaders. A question floated to the top of her mind as she ran.
How can he be this strong if he’s “already dead”?
Jericho stopped, leaving Alice to catch her breath. He gestured with his gun.
“If we head down that way, we’ll get to the exit fast. Sorry, but I’m going to ask you to accompany me a little farther.” He cocked his gun into a ready position, then held his other hand out to Alice.
“Uh, Jericho? You—huh?!”
He suddenly jerked his hand back and instead shoved her, using the force to propel himself in the opposite direction. Alice stumbled back as the Gravekeeper dove into a roll, bullets zipping through the air where he’d been standing. The gunshots came from the location of the exit.
Jericho grunted and whipped up his gun. “Pretty small-minded of you,” he shouted sourly.
“I’d love for you to suggest something more efficient. I’ve got future plans I should be getting to, since I actually have a future, unlike you.”
Alice froze. A white figure emerged from the darkness, his footsteps heavy. She made out the shape of a top hat and saw enemy blood spattered across his suit.
“Blood?!”
Blood scowled, smoke rising from the barrel of his gun. “Why are you so surprised?” he snapped.
Her defenses rose up automatically. “What are you even doing here?!” she shouted back. And why do you always have to argue with me?!
She didn’t think she was important enough to him to merit a rescue. In fact, he was the very man who had said the Blood of Hearts and Clover, who had called Alice “precious,” was frustrated and repressed.
He made a beeline for her, sucked his teeth, and grabbed her arm.
“You’re supposed to get my permission any time you want to leave the mansion. Don’t even pretend that you didn’t know that!”
“No, but I told the maid… A-and she passed it along, didn’t she?!”
The Mad Hatter laughed in her face.
He suddenly flashed a smile that she knew well from the old Blood. Somehow both degenerate and alluring—a fearless smile.
“You didn’t get my permission, young lady. You never even asked me directly! You’ve got guts to breach a contract with me; in the Mafia world, that can get you killed.”
“Ow! Hey—mmph!”
He grabbed her roughly into an embrace and kissed her. His hot mouth bit against hers.
In the resulting shock, she could only watch as he stepped around her, blocking her from Jericho. She heard the ring of Jericho’s gunshot.
She tensed, but the bullet zipped nowhere near them. A warning shot. Was Jericho trying to drive them away?
Blood turned his back on Jericho’s barrage of bullets, clearly unconcerned, and lifted Alice up into his arms like a bride over the threshold.
“We should go,” he hummed. “I’ll deal out your punishment later, in my own sweet time…got it?”
“P-punishment? Ah!”
There was no time to question the ominous promise. With a dramatic flap of his jacket, the Mad Hatter ran into the night, Alice clinging to his neck for dear life.