Unhinged: 2 (41 page)

The leaves rattle around us and thunder shakes the ground.

“We should hurry.” Jeb pulls a plastic box from behind him. Inside is a wrist corsage made of miniature white rosebuds, the tips airbrushed the same periwinkle as the lace gloves I’ll be wearing, all held together with navy blue ribbon and a bow.

I catch my breath as I look at it closer. I knew Jenara was making
this. What I didn’t expect was a silver ring pressed into the middle of one of the roses. A dozen tiny diamonds sparkle in the setting: a heart with wings.

My whole body feels at first heavy, then light. “Is this …?”

Jeb looks down, dark lashes cloaking his eyes. “I got the idea for the wings from my paintings of you. Had no clue how spot-on they’ve always been till today.” He swallows. “I was planning to give it to you at the studio after prom tonight. But just in case—” He stops himself, as if speaking the worst might make it materialize.

He pops open the plastic lid and plucks the silver circle free, then lifts me to my knees, so we’re eye to eye. My heart is pounding in my ears. Grass tickles my knees, but I don’t dare scratch the itch because Jeb’s looking me in the eye, and the expression on his face is the most somber I’ve ever seen.

“Alyssa Victoria Gardner.” Hearing him speak my full name makes my toes curl in anticipation. “You once told me on a rowboat in Wonderland that one day you wanted to have two kids and live in the country so you could hear your muse and answer when it called. I’m telling you now, here in our sanctuary, that when you’re ready for that life … I want to be the guy to give it to you.”

He waits, mouth half-open in anticipation, crooked incisor casting a shadow across his straight white teeth. All that’s familiar about him spins around me: the green eyes that know me like no one else’s; the paintings that bare my soul; the arms that promise power and strength each time I’m in them.

Only Jeb, with his human flaws and vulnerabilities, can fit the human side of my heart. He’s been planning to ask me this since before he knew everything, and he still wants it even now.

As for me, I’ve known ever since our first summer years ago how
deep my feelings run. Yes, I want to spend a lifetime with him. But I have two possible futures. Two lives to live. Two parts of my heart. How can I commit to either of them until I’ve thought everything through?

Then another doubt surfaces unexpectedly, something I haven’t considered until now. “Wait. Is this how you and Dad worked things out? You caved and told him you’d marry me before we got to London. Is that what’s going on here?”

Jeb’s hopeful expression falls. “No. That’s not—well, yes, it played a part in the timing. But you gotta know, Al. This is what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted. A future with you. A life with you, my fairy bride. Forever.”

“Always said … the boy … was a bloody wordsmith …”

My heart skips as the familiar cockney accent fills my head.

A moth dives into the canopy, surrounded by blue static. It struggles against the wind, and the static spreads, reaching up to the branches, as if to hold it in place. Jeb and I scramble backward as the insect transforms into a man, slumped to his side on the dirt. His breathing is labored and his wings drape across him, hiding his body.

“Son of a—”

“Morpheus.” I interrupt Jeb’s outburst, lifting one of the satiny wings so I can see his face. I’m thrilled he’s alive, but he doesn’t look like he will be for long.

“Hello, luv,” he says through a thick curtain of blue hair. “Hope I’m … interrupting.” He draws his knees to his chest, coughing.

The leaves rattle overhead as the rain begins.

I touch his forehead, shocked at how hot he is. “He’s burning up. We have to get him inside.”

Jeb hesitates, mistrust shadowing his face.

I put my hand on his arm. “We need all the help we can get tonight.” I can’t tell Jeb that I care beyond that. Not yet. We don’t have time to sort through that mess.

Gritting his teeth, Jeb takes the heart pendant from my neck and laces the ring through the chain. He holds it out for me. “Will you hang on to this? Until we can talk later?”

I nod and loop the chain around my neck.

Jeb drags Morpheus out from under the leaves and hoists him onto his shoulder. “Get those, Al.” He gestures to the wings dragging on the ground behind him.

I maneuver Morpheus’s wings, trying to curl them around his body so he won’t get wet. Mom meets us at the back door in her robe. She looks as confused and panicked as I feel but ushers us in.

“Take him to your room. Hurry. Your dad just pulled into the driveway. I’ll get the sedatives in him. Let’s hope they work fast. We only have an hour till we need to go.”

We trudge down the hall, leaving wet prints on the carpet. Morpheus’s wings scrape the walls, knocking a few of my mosaics crooked. Mom follows and shuts the door to my room from the other side. I hear her straightening my mosaics as she heads toward the living room.

I flip on the lamp and move my dress from the bed, laying it over the chair at my desk. Jeb plops Morpheus down. His beautiful wings drape both sides of the mattress, limp. It’s entirely unsettling to see someone as animated as him be so still and vulnerable.

I kneel next to the bed and push his hair back from his face. He’s shivering. His eyes are closed, and his jewels blink a sickly grayish green—dull instead of glistening—like stagnant, murky water. Black veinlike strands swell and move under his pale skin, as if snakes were
writhing inside him. His blue magic pulses around the strands, trying to contain the poison, but the black keeps multiplying.

My stomach turns over. “Did Sister Two do this to you?”

Morpheus squints through one eye and coughs, nodding. He yelps as the black veins tangle and knot at his neck. My body aches, as if I’ve caught the poison. It hurts that much to see him suffering.

“Shh.” I squeeze his hand. His palm feels clammy. “We have to try to keep it down, okay? We don’t want my dad coming in.”

He grits his teeth against more shivers. “Always knew I’d end up in your bed … and hear you say those words one day.” He manages a smirk.

Jeb snarls. “Unbelievable. Even when he’s at death’s door he’s a tool.” He arranges a pillow beneath Morpheus’s neck. “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut while we help you.”

Morpheus laughs weakly, his skin flashing with blue light. “What say Alyssa”—his breath rattles—“gives my mouth something else to do?”

Jeb narrows his eyes. “
What say
I give you a fist to chew on?”

Morpheus snorts, which triggers several more coughs.

I glare at them both. “Are you guys kidding me right now?” Shaking my head, I roll up Morpheus’s sleeve to expose his birthmark. I cringe as the black snaky veins follow my touch. It’s like they’re drawn to my movements.

Sitting on my bed, I start to work off my boot.

Jeb stops me with a hand on the buckles. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“I have to heal him.”

“And what if this poison is contagious?” Rain pounds on the window and roof, as if punctuating Jeb’s concern.

I pause.

Jeb glares down at Morpheus, who’s faded out again.

“Hey.” Jeb pats his face, oddly reminiscent of when Morpheus did the same to him at the studio.

Morpheus’s eyes flutter open.

“She wants to heal you,” Jeb says. “Is it safe?”

Morpheus grunts. “The stinger … my stomach … take it out first.” Another cough. “Drown it.”

I start to work the buttons open on Morpheus’s black shirt, but Jeb brushes me aside and takes over.

Morpheus places his hand on Jeb’s busy fingers, eyes opened to slits. “Ah, my pretty pseudo elf.” He takes a labored breath. “Is it time at last to express our unrequited feelings?”

Jeb’s ears flush red. He’s about to retort when Morpheus groans, doubling over again. Biceps bulging, Jeb holds him flat to the bed so I can finish opening his shirt.

There’s a puncture wound the size of a quarter on Morpheus’s abdomen. The black, inky poison seems to stem from the site. His blue magic blinks once and grows dim, as if defeated.

I shudder.

“Careful with that thing,” Jeb mutters.

I nod, using a Kleenex off my nightstand to protect my fingers as I work the stinger from the wound. It wriggles in my hand as if trying to escape. Shuddering again, I toss it into a glass of water next to the tissue box. The stinger fizzes and drifts to the bottom, disintegrating within seconds. The black veins under Morpheus’s skin writhe wilder, as if they’re fighting to survive without their source. Morpheus’s eyes slam shut, and he grinds his teeth in agony.

Unable to bear his pain any longer, I press my ankle to his fore-arm.
Heat surges between us. The black veins slow their movements and fade until all that’s left is the puncture mark. His blue static reappears and pulses through the wound, leaving behind a silvery scar.

I ride a wave of euphoria as Morpheus’s natural coloring comes back. He opens his eyes—alert and stronger by the second. He holds my gaze as I feel his forehead. His fever’s gone. Jeb’s watchful eye burns into my back, and I withdraw my hand.

Morpheus snags my ankle before I can slide off the bed, thumb running across my wing tattoo. The touch sends a prickly sensation through my wing buds.

“Moth,” he whispers soundlessly. The Morpheus I know has returned, teasing and taunting, reminding me of my vow.

Jeb comes up behind me and pries Morpheus’s fingers free. “Hands off, owl bait.”

The guys exchange scowls as I climb off the mattress with Jeb’s arm securely around my waist. It’s nice to see some things never change.

Morpheus sits up, his wings unfurling around him. He stretches—languid and graceful—then drops his feet to the floor. Jewels sparkling green, he watches me as he rolls down his sleeve and buttons his shirt. “Thank you, Alyssa. And, Jebediah, I suppose we’re even now.”

“Not even close,” Jeb says. “You brought Red here. And you’re going to help send her back.”

I put my hand on Jeb’s chest. “Wait. First, tell us what happened with Sister Two.”

Morpheus sighs. “It was going so well. She fell for my ruse and captured the cardboard man in my place.”

Something clicks in my mind. “The Brandon Lee silhouette from the
Crow
shrine … of course.” I smirk. “Impressive.”

Morpheus shrugs, though he’s obviously pleased with himself. “While she was busy reeling ‘me’ in, I transformed into a moth and rematerialized behind her to get the upper hand. I wrapped her in her own web and dragged her through a mirror and into the rabbit hole. She broke loose inside, turned on me.” He looks down at the scar on his abdomen, then secures the last few buttons over it. “Left me for dead.”

“Yet you made it all the way back here,” I say.

“I had good incentive.” Morpheus stands and straightens his shirt. “I was missing my car.”

I bark a laugh, and Morpheus grins. Jeb watches the two of us.

My momentary lapse into giddiness is short-lived as I sort through the implications of this new development. “Does this mean Sister Two is back in Wonderland now? She’s at her post?”

That could solve everything. Maybe Red didn’t get to the restless souls in time.

“I would like to think so,” Morpheus answers. “But we should keep our guard up. Especially you, Jebediah.”

The door handle wiggles and we all freeze. Mom appears at the opening and we breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Tightening the belt on her robe, she looks Morpheus up and down and he returns her appraisal. It’s obvious there’s still no love lost between them.

“Allie deciphered her first mosaic,” Mom says to him. “Red is on her way to the human realm to attack prom. We have a plan to stop her. I’ll fill you in after I get dressed.”

Morpheus glances at me and Jeb. “How deliciously dangerous.”

“This isn’t a game, Morpheus.” Mom gives him an annoyed glare and turns her attention to Jeb. “Could you help me carry Thomas to our bedroom? He’s not asleep all the way, but he’s groggy enough.”

“Is he going to be okay?” I ask.

Mom’s expression softens. “The pills are harmless. He’ll be safest this way.”

I nod, though it’s hard to stomach treating him like a pawn.

Jeb starts after her as she heads down the hall. He pauses at the door and gives Morpheus a meaningful glare. “Mind your manners, bug-eyes.”

“Always.” Morpheus tips a nonexistent hat.

Clenching his jaw, Jeb steps out.

The minute he’s gone, I back up to the wall, limping unevenly with one boot on and one off.

Morpheus watches me like a predator, smiling. “Trying to put some distance between you and your feelings, little plum?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mmm. You lie with such finesse. Becoming more of a netherling every day.” He strides toward me, as stealthy and menacing as a black panther. He props his forearm against the wall over my head and, wings curled around me, cuts off my surroundings. “I looked inside your heart after our melding. I saw how worried you were.”

I clamp my mouth shut, hoping that was all he saw.

His gaze dips down to my necklaces. His features harden as he loops his pinky through the ring. “This will never do. You obviously haven’t told our pseudo elf about the vow you made to me.”

Now more than ever, I can’t give Morpheus what he’s asking. My mind searches for a way to reach his sympathetic side. I know he has one. I’ve seen it. “I learned something about you today.”

That wins his full attention. He draws me into the fathomless depths of his eyes. “What would that be?”

“Every time you try to do the right thing, you get screwed.”

My observation is met with silence. He scoops up my other necklace, closing the key, heart, and ring within his fist.

I take a shallow breath, heartbeat stumbling as I try to read him. “So it’s a battle to make that choice, yeah?” I ask.

Morpheus offers a smug smile. “A battle would mean I have to care. I’ve ceased caring.”

“Your actions say otherwise. I know what you did at Butterfly Threads. Sister Two came into the storeroom while I was getting dressed in the bathroom. You lured her out to the main floor in moth form to keep Jeb safe.”