Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale Book 3) Page 8

  “Sagging berries and nuts,” Dor squeaked, his eyes wide.

  “Awww. They are the cutest things I have ever seen.”

  “No. Not awww, little one.” Frost stood rigid.

  “What are they doing in this part?” Blaze’s feet treaded backward, horror striking his face. “Thought they stuck to Tulgey Forest?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Frost gritted through his teeth, his lids narrowed on the trees, his chest expanding, the wind whistling around us. “They’ve never dared to come to my land before.”

  I looked at the brothers, their trepidation prickling alarm in me. “They’re just chipmunks.”

  “Move slowly back to me.” Frost kept his scrutiny locked on them as he motioned for me.

  “Why? They’re so cute. What are chipmunks going to do?”

  “Cover you in cranberry sauce and roll you in crumbled chestnuts for dinner,” Dor replied, staring in terror at the animals.

  “What?”

  “Chipmunks eat your flesh, little Liddell.” Frost took a slow step back. “What they lack in size they make up in quantity.”

  “Eat my flesh?” My voice rose. My head darted around, waiting for one of them to say this was a twisted joke.

  “Dor, run.” Frost nudged his friend.

  “I can’t leave you.”

  “Get PB,” he demanded. “Go!”

  Dor nodded, scurrying down Frost’s arm and leaping onto the snow and darting away, the tiny thing disappearing quickly into the night.

  A high-pitched chirp rang out from the trees, drawing my attention back to the chipmunks, my stomach dropping.

  One stood on the farthest limb, its arm pointing at us.

  “Fuck,” Frost said. It was like clouds and thunder rolling over the mountain. The swarm charged for us, making the ground appear as if it were moving. The noise of them all moving together sounded like a drum. “Run!”

  We turned, bolting for the fortress in the distance, our feet sinking in the snow. The light creatures gained ground quicker than us.

  “Come on!” Frost paused and reached back for me, yanking my arm to pull me along faster as Blaze came in next to us.

  “Hurry,” Blaze yelled at me, the brothers’ long legs carrying them farther than mine could. I was a runner. I could run for hours, keeping pace, but I wasn’t a sprinter. This was totally different. Also, I was no quitter. Pumping my legs harder, I dug in deep, trying to keep up, using the adrenaline in my body. It still wasn’t enough.

  Claws dug into my leg as teeth burrowed into the back of my calf and thigh, a howl exploding from my chest. More and more leaped on me, pins and needles tearing through my tights into my skin, gnawing my flesh.

  Agony thrashed at every nerve. Screaming, I stumbled, the pain making my knees buckle.

  No, Dinah! Keep going.

  I was good at shutting down and compartmentalizing. I could lock on the goal and push forward, ignoring my side ache or cramps in my legs when I ran. Grunting, I tried to push on, but more leaped on me.

  “Dinah!” Blaze reached back for me as a swarm jumped on him.

  “No!” Frost’s anger burned through the throng covering me, my body growing numb to their bites. A hand swept down, grabbing me, but the blood caused his fingers to slip through mine.

  “Frost,” I tried to yell, but like the sea crashing down, I was going under, the swarm burying me under their bodies.

  This was how I was going to die?

  Death by chipmunk?

  It sounded like something that would happen to Alice. Not me. I was supposed to have a boring, ordinary death. I would peacefully slip away while Scott and I rocked on a porch together. No one would ever know if I died here. What would my family think happened to me? Dream or not, I knew I would die for real, my heart straining as the blood left my body, pain blackening my vision.

  I even started to see and hear things.

  Odd things…

  “Dinah,” a man’s voice I didn’t recognize spoke to me. It felt like it was inside my head, wrapping me in warmth and security. “Eat the cookie.”

  Cookie? What the hell? I was being eaten alive, and my mind was thinking about cookies? I could even smell ginger and cinnamon, almost blurring the pain of teeth digging into my skin. Something warm dropped into my hand, pulling my focus. Laying right by my palm was a gingerbread man, perfectly painted in a green sweater, a tag on him read “Eat me.”

  “Eat it now, Dinah,” the man’s voice commanded me, calm and soothing.

  My mind wanted to dwell on why I chose a cookie to hallucinate about, but a deep instinct had me shoving the cookie in my mouth. If I were going to die, the taste of the sweet bread was the perfect final bite, the cookie melting on my tongue, warm, soft, and bursting with flavor.

  Santa’s elf, it’s good.

  From far away, I swore I heard the roar of a bear belting into the night, but nothing made sense anymore. I was in the place between awake and sleep. My eyes closed, and I let my end come.

  Darkness engulfed me, and suddenly I was falling.

  My body tumbling and twisting…

  Down.

  Chapter 10

  “Dinah?”

  My eyes were open, but nothing made any sense. Shadows clung to my eyes. Things grabbed for me; the feeling of my body being attacked and bitten had me swinging and crying out. “No. Get off me. Stop!”

  “Dinah?”

  I continued to strike out, my hands hitting something, but it only pumped my heart faster, terror shrieking through my body like a banshee. “No! Get away!”

  “Dinah, stop! It’s me.” A hand gripped my bicep hard, a face coming even with mine. The blanket of confusion started to disperse, understanding settling in. I blinked, staring at the familiar face, but for some reason, I felt even more lost—like it wasn’t the person I was expecting to see.

  Or wanted, a voice deep down whispered in my ear.

  “Hey, babe, you’re okay. Breathe.” Scott squatted down in front of me, rubbing my arms. “It was just a bad dream.”

  Dream?

  “You okay?” He brushed hair off my face, his expression contorted in worry.

  “Ye-yeah.” I nodded, though I felt anything but. I peered around our bedroom. I was tucked in the corner next to the dresser, still dressed in my costume, shaking and feeling dirty and sweaty.

  “Scared the crap out of me.” He blew out, sitting back on his heels. “Woke me up, screaming. Did you fall asleep on the couch?”

  “I-I must have.” Anxiety corded around my throat, my mind not remembering anything past vacuuming Santa’s Workshop. Not driving home or walking in—but I recalled being somewhere else—it was murky, like wisps of fog. I sensed images and voices dancing on the edges, slipping through my fingers.

  “You sounded as if you were being attacked.” He rubbed his face. “Kept screaming something about chipmunks and frost?”

  “What?” My head jerked up like an arrow pierced through the haze.

  Frost?

  Chipmunks?

  “Sounded totally insane.” He laughed, kissing my forehead, standing up. “Get too much secondhand smoke from Gabe?”

  “Gabe wasn’t there.”

  Scott didn’t hear me. Scratching his pale, untoned stomach, yawning noisily, he headed for the bathroom. “I’ve got to get some sleep; early day tomorrow.”

  He left the door open as he peed, then staggered back to the bed and flopped down.

  “You coming to bed?” he muttered, tucking back into his pillow.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, but couldn’t seem to move, my stomach rolling with fear. How could I not remember getting home?

  Scott’s even breathing filled the room. He could fall asleep in a minute. His ease and comfort in the world flicked envy through me. He was so sure of his safety, while I clung and clawed at the walls of sanity, trying to keep them up.

  “Then let go. You belong here with me anyway.” A man’s voice went through my head, my heart pounding. A glimmer of bl
ond hair, chiseled jaw, and a sun-soaked face with a happy smile floated in my memory.

  I bit my lip, tasting sugar and cinnamon, a sudden flash of a gingerbread cookie hitting me in the chest. Did I eat a cookie earlier? I must have…

  Inhaling, I drew my knees to my chest, my fingers curling around my legs. The fabric covering them was ripped and crusty. A thud drummed in my ears as the pads of my fingers trailed over a dozen bumps and bruises on the back of my calves.

  Chipmunks.

  Attacking.

  Bolting up, I darted for the bathroom, flicking on the light. I stared at the girl looking back. My hair was slightly wavy and wild, cheeks flushed, my eyes glistening like I had a fever.

  I looked alive. Grimy and gross, but vibrant.

  My costume was filthy with dirt…and sand. My hand brushed at a few grains, my breath quickening. No. It wasn’t possible. Looking closer at my legs, I noticed my tights were shredded and what looked like healed bite marks covered my legs.

  Holy fudge pudding…

  “No. No. No.” I gripped the counter, squeezing my lids closed. “This is bonkers. There is a perfectly good explanation for this.”

  Like I was going mad.

  Peering back at myself, I watched my chest rise and fall with my heavy breathing. Was this how Alice felt? Sane in her insanity? That everything was crumbling and changing, everyone saying you needed help, but you didn’t feel crazy? Nothing felt more real or true? The more normal it all seemed, the more I sensed myself falling down the rabbit hole.

  I gritted my teeth, and my knuckles turned white. I would not allow this. My life was good. I had a great boyfriend, an apartment, school, a job, a few friends. Things were going exactly how I wanted them to. Sidelining to Crazytown was not part of the plan.

  Block it out. Ignore. Everything will go back to normal.

  Compartmentalize.

  You can fight this.

  Stuffing it all back into a box in my mind, I undressed, throwing my tights away. I stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the tendrils sweeping around in the back of my mind, trying to seep in.

  I tightened the reins on my thoughts, not letting my mind go anywhere without my permission, keeping it locked on the goal. Eyes forward and mind busy.

  I would do anything not to lose my hold on reality.

  Whatever it took…

  Over the next week, I lost myself in work and school, though my software design and coding classes weren’t holding my attention as much as I wanted them to.

  “Doesn’t look like the assignment, Dinah,” my instructor muttered behind me, leaning over my desk.

  “Professor Cogsworth…” I jolted, shaking out of my trance.

  He smiled softly, his eyes going from my computer screen to the pad of paper next to me. “I can’t say you should quit and become an artist, but the concept is interesting. Makes you feel as if you are right there. Ever think of getting into video game design?” He flicked his chin at the drawings on my paper.

  Following his gaze, my eyes widened in shock. He was right. My skill at drawing sucked, but I couldn’t deny what was there.

  Hundreds of chipmunks in trees, their cute faces pulled in evil sneers, blood dripping off their teeth, looked on the verge of attacking.

  I did not remember sketching the creations on my paper.

  Just like your sister.

  Fear and guilt cascaded through my veins, flaming my cheeks. “I’m sorry, professor.”

  “Please, Dinah. You are the hardest worker I’ve ever had. Never tardy or late on an assignment. You are a model student.” He rubbed his balding head and down through his French fork beard. Sometimes I swear it twitched and moved similar to the hands of a clock. He was short and round and dressed like he lived in the 1900s. But he was so kind and gentle. Sadly, I had heard a lot of people dub him Mr. Walrus because of his appearance. Cruel as it was, I also couldn’t deny he did resemble the moniker.

  “It’s all right to give yourself a break every now and then.” He patted my arm. “But at least appear as if you are working. If you start slipping, the rest of the class has no hope. You will lose all control and…” He leaned in closer, his voice sounding different, his image blurring. “Go mad. But let me say, all the best ones do.”

  “Holy hot cocoa,” I gasped, ramming back into my seat. For a second, I saw a snowman in front of me, but when I blinked, he was gone, and Mr. Cogsworth was staring at me, his expression filled with concern.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Ummm.” A hot poker sizzled between my ribs. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I forced a smile on my face.

  His lids narrowed. “You sure? You look flushed, my dear.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “I didn’t call you anything.” His thick brows bristled together. “You sure you are okay?”

  I touched my clammy forehead, heat billowing off my skin.

  “Why don’t you get some air? Take off early.” Cogsworth’s voice was filled with empathy and kindness. “Plenty of time to work on that later.”

  “Yes, thank you.” I gathered my stuff, heading out the door. The crisp early evening air snapped in my lungs, and I inhaled deeply, the cold feeling delicious against my hot skin. The campus lights were already on; the night had fully sunk in.

  Snow was in the forecast later this week, but I swore I smelled it coming, the air thicker with energy. In my gut, I knew it would snow tonight, like I could feel it in my bones.

  “Dinah?” My head jerked to a dark-haired figure walking up, smiling coyly at me. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I replied to the guy who was in my sociology class. He was tall, extremely good looking, and built. And he knew it. Some basketball god the coaches had courted to bring more recognition to the school, and for the life of me, I could never remember his name. Tristen? Taylor? Chad? I couldn’t recall. All the girls trailed after him hoping he noticed them, and probably because I didn’t, he had pursued me from the first day of class.

  “How are you?” He stopped in front of me, a cocky smile playing on his lips. Shadows popped his hazel eyes.

  “Good,” I replied, disinterested. I peered around, hitching my bag higher on my shoulder.

  “You look more than good.” His eyes ran down me. It didn’t seem to matter how many times I told him I had a boyfriend—hell, he had even seen Scott and me together in the commons—and it still didn’t stop him from hitting on me every time he saw me.

  I wasn’t so unaware I didn’t know I was pretty. People told me all the time. My sister was drop-dead gorgeous, and enough people told me how much we looked alike, but I didn’t care. And that really unsettled people. I didn’t need confirmation from them, and I didn’t need my face to tell me who I was or my worth. My life with Scott was all I needed; the rest was bullshit.

  I didn’t give a damn about being with the hot guy or in the cool group, which seemed to both intrigue and piss off people. It seemed to upset them I didn’t follow the norm.

  “You coming to the party this weekend? Supposed to be huge.” He stepped closer. “I’d love for you to come.”

  “No pun intended?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Can’t say it wasn’t on my mind.” A barked laugh came out of him, lust sparking in his eyes. “You’re pretty blunt, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t answer, pulling on my coat, ready to walk away.

  “I am too. So let me say, I could make you come harder than your boyfriend ever could.”

  “I doubt that.” Fury spat off my tongue. “What was your name again? I forgot…just like I’m sure what having sex with you would be like.” I turned to leave.

  Grabbing my arm, he twisted me around. He shoved me up against the wall, pinning my arms, his body flattening into mine, shoving the air out of my lungs. Adrenaline slammed through my heart, fear building a scream in my throat. His head dipped near my ear. He growled, “Want to bet, little Liddell?”

  Deep. Gravelly. Familiar. Like I knew the voice i
n the depths of my soul, every fiber of my being lit up with recognition and wrapped around the pet name.

  “Jack…” I whispered.

  His grip went to my throat. “You use that name again, and I will make sure you regret it. Your penance is already severe, little one. Want to add to it?” His lips grazed my skin, hot breath slipping down my neck, ripping the air from my lungs. “You do, don’t you?”

  I swallowed against his hand, my body reacting in a confused blunder of anger, terror, and to my utter shame, desire.

  He scoffed against my ear. “I guarantee if I slipped my fingers through your pussy right here, I would find you drenched.” His brutal directness and voice heaved my chest, my bones trembling and causing the exact thing he said. My head spun at the sound of the voice, the feel of his body pressing into mine, the roughness of the brick wall biting into me.

  Everything around me was vivid and hazy at the same time, like I was in a dream but had never been more alive. I no longer felt attached to reason or logic, diving headfirst into the sensations as though my body had been starved for so long.

  “Should I find out if I’m right, little one?” he muttered, pulling back enough to see him. Gone were the hazel eyes of Mr. Basketball. Bright, icy blue eyes burned into mine, the sensation of both hot and cold sinking into my skin, claiming it. “After what you did,” he snarled. Fury vibrated from him.

  Violence. Lust.

  “You need to be punished.” He pulled my jacket away from my body, his fingers skating down, stopping at the waist of my jeans.

  “Punished?” I swallowed, my throat barely letting the word out.

  “You destroyed everything.” He popped the top button on my jeans, speeding up my heart and lungs. A voice far in the back screamed at me to stop, that this was wrong. Still, my mouth didn’t open. A deeper blissful sensation of hot and cold trailed over my stomach as he went lower, skating along the waistband of my knickers. “Over twelve years I’ve waited for revenge,” he rumbled, his anger only sparking more desire into my veins. His touch was teasing, but not venturing where I wanted it to. “And you’re going to let me, aren’t you, Dinah?”