Late as a Rabbit (Sons of Wonderland Book 2) Read online

  Late as a Rabbit

  Sons of Wonderland Book 2

  Kendra Moreno

  Blurb

  Follow the White Rabbit. . . .

  Tick.

  Jupiter only ever wanted an adventure, but she never should have gone searching for one. It finds her in the form of a white rabbit with silver eyes.

  Tock.

  When that same white rabbit turns out to be the White Rabbit from the story books, she can’t contain her curiosity. She follows him down the rabbit hole and drops right into Wonderland. But this isn’t the Wonderland she hoped for. The world is filled with danger, horrifying creatures, and a prophecy that speaks of her role.

  Tick.

  Jupiter never thought her adventure would include blood-thirsty Bandersnatch, a Vengeful Red Queen, or a sexy White Rabbit. Nor did she ever think she was an important part of saving such nightmares, but a certain Rabbit drew her into this gruesome world, and she’s determined to stay by his side.

  Tock.

  Jupiter has to act quickly. The Red Queen is growing more desperate to stop the prophecy from coming true. Jupiter is only the second . . .

  . . . and Wonderland is running out of time.

  Tick.

  Copyright

  Please do not participate in piracy.

  Copyright © 2019 by Kendra Moreno

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Acknowledgments

  There are always so many people I feel like I need to thank, so many that made all of this possible.

  First, I’d like to thank the readers, and the numerous ones who I call friend. Thank you for taking a chance on a new author and for accepting me with open arms. Without y’all, none of this would be possible and I’m so thankful every single day that we found each other.

  I’d also like to thank the family who are so supportive of me, and never once considered checking me into the asylum for my crazy ideas. Thank you to my parents for being so awesome. Thank you to my grandma and grandpa, Martina and Kelly, and Lorena. Each of y’all have been so supportive. I love y’all!

  Thank you to my amazing husband and son. Both inspire me to keep being me, as weird as I am, and encourage me to keep going. My son is the reason I get up every day and write. Some day, I hope to help him achieve his own dreams.

  I’d like to thank the author and book world friends I’ve made. Nicole JeRee, Amara Kent, Elizabeth Clare, Poppy Woods, and Katie Knight. Each of y’all keep me going and light up my days. I literally feel weird if we don’t talk for a whole day. You’ve become a part of my life, fast and important, and I don’t know what I’d do without each of you. Stay awesome!

  Thank you to the amazing Ruxandra Tudorica for the amazing covers for this series. Each time you seem to capture the words I say and bring the characters to life perfectly. I’m so happy to call you friend.

  Thank you to the amazing Nicole JeRee for always rocking the formatting thing! My books are gorgeous on the inside because of you. Thank you to Michelle Hoffman for editing my words and for reminding me of the difference between “breathe” and “breath”. You’re amazing for keeping me in line.

  I’m so happy I get to share my worlds with you. Here’s to many more adventures!

  For those who dream of a White Rabbit taking them to Wonderland. This one is for you.

  Contents

  Trigger Warning

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Kendra Moreno

  39. Clockwork Butterfly

  40. Chapter 2

  Trigger Warning

  Late as a Rabbit includes descriptions of gore, violence, and a sexy white rabbit. There are brief mentions of sexual abuse. I want you to join me in Wonderland, but please, take care of yourself, first. If you're ever unsure about what's inside, feel free to contact me through Facebook or email, and I'll happily answer any questions you may have.

  Prologue

  “Patient number zero-zero-four-two. Caucasian female. Aged nineteen. Suffering from delusions, hallucinations, and bouts of hysteria. Dangerous. Biter.” A middle-aged man, Dr. Stevens, reads from the file in his hands, his voice monotone. He does not seem particularly happy to be there on a Saturday evening, dealing with the situation. A young doctor stands behind him, listening, learning. He’s green, his first assignment to the asylum an honor, he assumes.

  “Hatter, White, Cheshire, Alex, Alex, Alex,” the woman mutters, repeating the names over and over again.

  “What is it that she’s saying?” The young doctor moves closer in an attempt to make out the words.

  Dr. Stevens sighs, grabbing the young one before he can get too close. “Dr. Morgan, please refrain from getting too close.”

  “But she’s strapped down, Dr. Stevens. What harm could she do?”

  Stevens removes his glasses and rubs the bridge between his eyes.

  “There’s a reason there was an opening here, boy. She’s marked dangerous.”

  “Hatter, White, Cheshire, Alex, Alex, Alex.” The woman’s voice grows louder, transforming into a growl. She begins to thrash in her restraints, yanking, bruising.

  “Should we call someone?” Morgan asks hesitantly.

  “We need to administer a sedative. Go grab the nurse.”

  The young doctor rushes from the room, leaving the woman alone with Stevens. He sets the file down on an examination table and moves forward, towards the thrashing woman.

  “Patient zero-zero-four-two. I am advising you to calm down, or else I will be forced to sedate you for your own safety.” He shows no fear as he steps up beside her. She fights harder against her restraints the closer he comes. “Patient zero-zero-four-two, calm down.”

  “Hatter! White! Cheshire! Alex!” The woman screams at the top of her lungs, her voice piercing the doctor’s eardrums. He cringes at the sound but doesn’t step away.

  “Alice!” he shouts. “Alice, you must calm down!”

  He reaches up and touches her leg, where the gown has ridden up. She stops moving immediately. Alice focuses glazed eyes on the man above her, his fingers trailing a line of disgust along her thigh, searching, defiling, destroying.

  “That a girl,” Stevens murmurs, his hand moving higher.

  Tears spill from the corners of Alice’s eyes, and she turns her head away towards the other side of the room, where a man stands, wearing a green waistcoat, rabbit ears on his head. Her
blue eyes lock onto his as he studies her, taking in her frail limbs, her shaved head, the scars on her skull.

  “White,” she whispers, more tears falling. “Help me, White.”

  Stevens follows her gaze, but upon seeing no one there, returns his attention to the helpless woman before him.

  “You can talk to your ghosts all you want,” he whispers. “Focus on your white rabbit.”

  Alice sobs, her fingers spreading, reaching towards a motionless White, poised in the corner. He curls his lip at the doctor, itching to step forward and punish him, but that isn’t why he’s here.

  “Please,” she sobs. “Please, take me back.”

  White’s eyes take in the doctor, the sterile padded room, the sounds of the other patients screaming and moaning out in the hallways. The Oxford Asylum is not known for its kind staff. There are many rumors circulating the institution, claims of malpractice and cruelty. But people do not like to hear about such things, and so, nothing is done. After all, lunatics are not important–the reason they’re thrown away in the first place.

  “I can’t do that,” White whispers. “I can’t take you back, Alice.”

  “Please?” Her voice grows louder. “I’m begging you.”

  White blinks rapidly in an attempt to stall the rising moisture in his eyes.

  Dr. Morgan steps back into the room, a nurse carrying a syringe beside him. Neither of them comment on Stevens’ hasty movement as he jerks his hand from beneath Alice’s gown. The young doctor clears his throat and takes up position, the nurse preparing the sedative.

  “White!” Alice screams, her voice hysterical. “Help me! You promised! You promised I was a part of Wonderland!”

  “I was wrong. You must not return, Alice.”

  The doctors move around her, prepping as she begins to thrash against her restraints again.

  “You promised! You promised! You promised!” She lets out an ear-piercing shriek, making the others cover their ears at the sound.

  “I’m so sorry,” White chokes out, turning towards the door.

  “Hatter! White! Cheshire! Alex! Alex! Alex! You promised!” Alice’s screams grow louder as the doctors move in, preparing to sedate her. In her hysteria, Alice jerks hard at the restraints, her strength unnatural for such a small woman. The leather strap rips free, and her arm immediately reaches up and grabs Stevens around the throat. “Off with their heads! Off with their heads! Off with their heads!”

  Dr. Morgan and the nurse attempt to pull her arm away. They scream for help from the other orderlies, shouting down the hall a code red. The other strap breaks, and Alice wraps a second hand around his throat. His face begins to turn red, quickly transforming to purple, as she chokes off his air supply.

  “Stop her! Someone get the sedative!”

  Stevens claws at her hands, cutting grooves in her flesh with his nails. Blood drips from the wounds, but Alice doesn’t feel a thing. Her eyes are locked on White at the doorway, his sad eyes taking in the scene before him.

  “You promised!” she snarls. “You promised!”

  The nurse jabs a needle into Alice’s arm and squeezes the plunger down, injecting the sedative into her bloodstream. Stevens is no longer fighting, his body limp as she squeezes the life from him. His lips are blue. Her eyes spit fire at the man with rabbit ears, watching.

  “Get the doctor away from her!” one of the orderlies shouts, coming forward to help.

  The sedative begins to take effect, and her fingers loosen, the doctor’s body sliding to the floor as her limbs grow weak.

  “You promised,” she groans as the doctors push her down again. “You said I would always be a part of Wonderland.”

  White’s ears droop as he watches the events unfold, watches the doctor try to resuscitate the man on the floor. Nothing works. His life is snuffed out by a savage little Alice. White knows what he has to do, knows that he has no choice, knows that he will carry this secret in his heart until the moment Wonderland dies. Promises are never meant to be broken. Lies are not meant to be spoken. But a single lie can destroy a thousand truths, and set events in motion that should never be moved.

  “I’m sorry, Alice,” White whispers. “But you are not a part of Wonderland, and I cannot help you.”

  Alice’s eyes flutter as her body gives in to the powerful drugs in her system. She fights to remain awake, but she’s losing the battle.

  “Then off with your heads,” she forces out.

  “I’m sorry,” White repeats, turning to leave the room and the little girl, now young woman, who is prophesied to destroy Wonderland. As he turns away from the scene behind him, from the doctors discussing further electroshock treatments, he hears Alice’s mumbling, her voice growing weaker by the second.

  “Hatter . . . White . . . Cheshire . . . Alex . . . Alex . . . Al . . .”

  Chapter One

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Of course. I graduated Harvard at the top of my class. I have recommendations from numerous professors prominent in the field. I held a position with Embry-Jones for four years, and I have reference letters for numerous top members in Biochemistry from there.”

  The woman in front of me holds up her hand to stop my never-ending list. I could keep going. She didn’t even let me get to the achievements on my resume.

  “No, I’m sorry. I meant tell me about yourself specifically. Not your qualifications. I can see those listed right here on your CV. Tell me why you left a prestigious position on the East coast to move to the complete opposite side of the country. This certainly isn’t Massachusetts.”

  I frown at the woman, my hands wringing at each other in my lap. I’m dressed in my Sunday best, putting me even more at odds with the woman in front of me. I knew that pressed slack and pearls would be necessary–I wanted to make a good impression at this final interview after all—but I’m having a hard time relaxing in the costume. I’m most certainly a t-shirt and jeans kind of woman. My sister had liked fancy clothes, never me.

  “You want to know why I came to California?” I ask, my leg starting to bounce under the desk. Anxiety threatens to consume me. This isn’t a topic I want to broach.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  She smiles. The nameplate on her desk reads Monica Devereux, PHD. She’s apparently the last hurdle I have to jump to land this job. I know I need to impress her. I’m tempted to lie, to make up some bullshit reason about why I came to California, but then I think better of it. I shouldn’t start this new chapter with a lie. It’s disrespectful to Neptune.

  “I promised my sister I would go on adventures,” I reply. “So, I packed up everything I own and moved across the country.”

  “And you left your sister behind?” Okay, this was bordering on too personal. Does this woman have no sense of boundaries? I don’t even work here yet, and she’s grilling me like we’re on COPS.

  “No. She’s not in Massachusetts.”

  “Oh, so she lives somewhere else, then?” Her tone is almost bored, as if she doesn’t truly care about the answer.

  “No.” My hands squeeze my thighs hard, my nails biting into my skin. “No, my sister died.”

  Her eyes widen minutely, as if she did not expect such an answer. I can’t blame her, not really. I don’t like to bring up the still painful memory. It’s only been six months. My sister, Neptune, had struggled with addiction her whole life. I didn’t understand when we were younger, how we could be twins and still be so different, how we could look the same but be complete opposites. There was a time I hoped that Neptune would save herself, and when that didn’t work, that someone else would be able to save her, but after years and years of going back to rehab in a never-ending cycle, I stopped hoping.

  Six months ago, I had gone over to her shabby apartment, the one she refused to leave no matter how often I offered to move her into my own, and we had the first real conversation we’d had in a long time.

  Don’t live your life the way I have, Jupiter. Don’t piss it all
away. You’ve always been so smart, so beautiful. Don’t let that be all that you are. Go on adventures. Promise me you’ll go on an adventure when I’m gone.

  What are you talking about, Nep? You’re not going anywhere. My answer. I was so stupid, didn’t even notice her strange behavior. Or maybe I didn’t want to.

  Promise me.

  That’s all it took. I was never that strong when it came to my twin, no matter how many times she asked me for money for food only to turn around and spend it on more drugs. I promised her that I would go on an adventure, thinking that I wouldn’t have to worry, refusing to acknowledge that my sister was losing to her addiction. I left her apartment fully stocked with groceries that night, but she never touched anything in the fridge, not even the Rocky Road ice cream I’d hidden there.

  I got the call the next morning, but I had already known. When your twin dies, you feel it in your soul. I’d been awake for hours, my chest breaking open with pain. Overdose, the doctor said, accidents happen. But I knew it wasn’t an accident. My sister had been telling me, and I hadn’t listened.

  “I am so sorry for your loss, Jupiter,” Dr. Devereux says, contorting her face into a semblance of empathy. It’s slightly off, like she hasn’t practiced the look in a while. I can tell it’s forced, a tick in her jaw belying her discomfort. I nod my head to relieve her of the awkwardness and allow her to move on. It’s expected. The ‘sorry for your loss’ never helps anything, barely penetrating my brain most days. I’m used to it now. Besides, how do you tell people that your sister had been gone long before she died?