Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 6

  “Fuck. You.” Scrooge growled.

  “Meet the Queen’s old knave. Her general of black hearts…on and off duty. He is the last person you should trust.”

  My heart jumped up into my throat, his words coming back to me with force.

  “I couldn’t leave you like that.”

  “You should have, Ms. Liddell. As I told you, you should not trust anyone here.”

  “I don’t know why, but I trust you.”

  “You really shouldn’t.”

  “Alice.” He grasped for me, but I jerked away. The one only thing I learned in this upside-down world was the Queen was evil. She killed and destroyed everything good about Christmas. Someone I thought he was against. I believed I was on the Rebel Alliance side. The good side. But I couldn’t fight alongside someone who disgusts me. It made me look differently at him. He had been not only her soldier, but her lover.

  “Alice, you don’t under—”

  “No. You don’t get to call me Alice now.” I sneered, glancing around. My energy was low, but I had to get away. From both of them. “You were right. I shouldn’t have trusted you. Lesson learned.” I turned to sprint away, hoping they’d let me go. But in only five steps, my feet stopped in their track, panic fizzing up my throat.

  Hundreds of toy soldiers dashed out of the forest, circling around us, herding me back toward the snowman and Scrooge.

  “Same ol’ Frosty. Somethings never change. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

  “You are the one who was the traitor. I stupidly trusted you, called you a friend. You are the deceiver and deserter.”

  “You are such a righteous fool.” Scrooge glared at Frosty. I hadn’t been here long, but it was clear these two had history going way back. “You think yourself so wise, but you see nothing.”

  “We’ll see who’s smart enough to keep their head. This time I will not save yours.” Frosty turned into the forest, the soldiers packing in around us, cuffing our wrists, and pushing us down a path which might end with me losing my head.

  And not just metaphorically speaking.

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, snowflake!” Scrooge’s voice bounded forward, causing spurts of snow to drop from the trees around us.

  I could feel the trees watching us, but none of them spoke. An eerie glow from the windup lanterns a few soldiers carried cast down on the trail and forest, making everything feel alive.

  “She needs medicine and rest.” Scrooge continued yelling at Frosty. “Do you want her to go into shock before we even get there?”

  “I don’t need your help,” I hissed, though I couldn’t deny my lids grew heavier with each step, my stomach rolling. Sweat trickled down my face as heat boiled inside my body, pounding against my ribs like a drum.

  “Your benefactor would not be pleased.” Scrooge struggled against the handful of soldiers pushing him forward. Their blank faces and eyes were creepy, the shadows creating monstrous images on their painted heads.

  Frosty stopped, letting the soldiers move around him, not interrupting their progression forward until we came face to face with Scrooge.

  “She will get plenty of rest soon.” Frosty peered down at my torn and bloody costume, a smirk tipping his mouth. “If she can’t handle a few holly cuts, then Winterland is no place for her anyway.”

  “A few? Look at her; she’s covered!” Scrooge nodded toward me.

  “All the songs, movies, and books about you, portraying you as some jolly happy soul when in reality you are a white ball of rancid dog shit.” I leaned forward, my nose almost touching Frosty’s large button nose.

  “Is that so?” His branch arm came out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Who says?”

  “I do. And since I am the sensible one in this horrible place, I say it is very much so.” I jerked my head away from his touch.

  “Only the insane are so sure of their sanity.” A huge grin curved up his mouth. “The madness is seeping in. You will be one of us in no time.” He rotated, moving forward. “The more absurd you are, the more rational you become.”

  I snarled, glancing over at Scrooge. He shrugged his shoulders, a cocky grin tugging his lips. “He has you there.”

  “Not you too.”

  “I told you, Ms. Liddell, once you give up your strict notion of practical and logical, the more you will understand.”

  I shook my head, my brain growing heavier. Back home I was ridiculed for my lofty dreams, but here I was mocked for being too sensible.

  Soldiers shoved me forward, marching us for what felt like days but at the same time, mere minutes. The sky never changed color, like this land was in a perpetual state of darkness.

  We eventually came up on what could be described as a quaint village similar to the storybook ones you see in movies or in the English countryside. Adorable snow-covered white cottage homes with thatched roofs, red brick chimneys, and flower boxes in front of the windows or ivy crawling up the side filled the area. A small river ran softly through the town; the sides joined with cobblestone bridges. A glowing Christmas tree dominated the center for the whole village to share, and ribbons and bows decorated every streetlight.

  That’s what it should have looked like. However, this village felt hollow and rundown. No life or love came from the homes, as if they had been abandoned long ago. There were no decorations except shattered twinkle lights on some homes. Paint was chipped from all the buildings, overgrown weeds sprouted from the old gardens, covering windows and some doors. The brook even sounded like it was crying as it tripped over the rocks in the river bed.

  An old statue was left in chunks in the middle of town, so destroyed I could not make out what it once had been. Only partial chubby stone hand led me to believe it had once been a man with a beard.

  We marched past the village, bearing up a small hill. The old cobblestone road gave way to newer smooth pavement. Lamps like the ones the soldiers carried dangled on posts for a quarter of a mile, lighting the path to the building at the end.

  “Holy hot toddy.” My lips parted, a sinking sensation plummeted like a rock in my stomach. An enormous castle loomed in the foreground, looking more like the castle of an evil Disney queen than anything that should belong in a Christmas realm. Built with dark stone, the castle nearly disappeared into the blackness and fog. Dozens of spires speared up from the roof like daggers, but the middle tower reached so far into the sky I had to crane my head back. The entrance tower divided the castle into two equal wings, which appeared to be at least a half mile long on each side. Only a few windows glowed with a dim yellow light.

  Nothing about this place was inviting. It was the set for a horror movie.

  Spikes with what looked like round or oval objects on them were dotted along the lane to the castle. A noise came from my throat when one of the lamps gleamed off them.

  Heads.

  Positioned there to send fear into anyone thinking about revolting against her majesty. They didn’t use that fear tactic in my realm anymore, but they did centuries earlier when you peed and crapped in buckets and tossed it out the window into the street.

  Things had fucking changed. Advanced. But this place was set in the dark ages.

  Frosty moved quickly down the long road, the toy guards at the entrance bowing and opening the huge gates for us. The loud bang of the wood made me jump, chains grinding as a spiked gate drew up, walking us through an arched tunnel, coming out into a courtyard.

  Suddenly everything felt very real. And very terrifying. Fear pumped my blood quickly through my system, creating a cloud in my head.

  “Welcome to Winterland palace.” Frosty motioned around like he was proud.

  My gaze went up, taking in large bird cages hanging from poles all around the square. They were big enough to fit a small child. Something moved in one of them, ricocheting my heart against my ribs. The cages held live creatures.

  “Scrooge!” a voice called down, his white paws gripping the bars.

  Oh no.

&
nbsp; “Hare,” Scrooge exclaimed, his shoulders sagging with despair. “You okay?”

  “Still have a foot to spare.” Hare tried to joke but fell flat.

  “The others?” Scrooge asked, his voice strained.

  “Uh.” Hare started to speak but was cut off by voices across the square.

  “Oh no. Mr. Scrooge. Not you too!” The twins cried down from a cage on our left, their faces black and blue as though they had been beaten up. “We are really sorry, Mr. Scrooge.”

  “Fuck.” Scrooge’s head fell forward, muttering under his breath, disappointment gritting his teeth. “Penguin?”

  “We don’t know,” Hare responded. “You know how he gets when he’s nervous. Wouldn’t shut up. They took him in there.” Hare nodded to another darkened archway before us. I knew whatever was through there wasn’t good.

  Sorrow showered down on me, my chest stinging at the thought they had all been caught. Odd… I had spent little time with them, but my heart ached at the thought of anything happening to them. Penguin was really kind. An innocent in a land which seemed to beat that trait out of you.

  “They should have known better than to align themselves with you.” Frosty’s cob pipe slid to the other side of his mouth. “They’ll be tried and headless by tomorrow’s supper. Queen is making it a big party. You, Scrooge, are the grand finale.”

  “Splendid. I expect nothing less.” He winked at Frosty.

  Frosty frowned, turned, and skated through the archway.

  My legs felt like they were coated in cement, and I stumbled a few times when the soldiers tried to rush me.

  “Stay strong, Ms. Liddell. Don’t give in to it.” Scrooge leaned into me, his breath whispering up my neck like fingers, spreading shivers throughout my body, scorching my already overheated skin.

  We were led into another courtyard, but this time a woman surrounded by guards stood on the stairs, leading up into the entrance of the castle.

  I stared at her, blinking, wondering if what I was seeing was right.

  The Queen was nothing like I imagined. She could have been Helen Mirren’s sister. Older, but sexy as hell. Her confidence and severe expression made a chill run down my spine. Her grey hair was cut into a sleek, long bob. She wore a sleeveless, formfitting dress, accenting her slim figure. The material was such a deep red it appeared black. She had blood-red heeled ankle boots and a matching cloak. Her lips were coated the same color, as if her victim’s blood still painted her mouth. Blood-red queen was right. In her hand was a black and crimson candy cane the size of a walking stick and around her neck, on a chain, was a white rabbit’s foot.

  Silver. Bells. Hare’s foot. That bitch wore his foot around her neck like a good luck necklace.

  Her narrowed blue eyes were locked on Scrooge, like no one else existed.

  “Well, if it isn’t my dear general returning home at last.” Her cool voice sliced through the air. She took a step down. “How I’ve missed you, my knave.”

  “I’m not your knave.” Fury strained Scrooge’s shoulders. “Or have you forgotten?”

  “How could I forget a betrayal like yours?” She took another step down, walking slowly to him. “Did I not do everything for you? All I did was give, and you turned away from my gifts.”

  “Gifts?” Scrooge snorted derisively. “I think I can do without your gifts.”

  “And so you did.” Her hand went up to his cheek. “But I figured you learned by now what happens when you turn down my kindness.”

  “Yeah, but now I have nothing left.” He laughed, his tone almost crazed. “Nothing.” His humor dropped like a flick of a switch, his lip curling up in a snarl. “So…do your best… Mrs. Claus.”

  Everything stopped for me.

  Holy. Crapping. Tinsel creampuffs…this was Mrs. Claus? The jolly, rosy cheeked, round, sweet, grandma-like character my realm described?

  Her body jolted back, her hand smacking his face hard, the noise echoing off the stone.

  “How dare you! It is forbidden to call me that.” She rolled her shoulders back, her fingers clutching his jaw. “You really do want to join them. You’re practically begging me. Your little protest holiday party was pathetic. I thought you would do better than that.” She grasped him harder and he let out a pained groan, his lids closing. “I think I will keep you alive for eternity in my dungeons, hearing them cry for you over and over.”

  “Stop!” Scrooge grabbed his head, his eyes squeezing in pain. “Stop. Please.”

  “Your actions have consequences. You should have thought about it before. Now you must face what you have done. It all falls on you. I tried hard and was quite patient and charitable with you. But you simply refused to be congenial.”

  He cried out, his legs buckling underneath him, and she followed him down, leaning over to get a better grip. Whatever she was doing she was causing him tremendous pain. Seeing him in agony pinched my heart and wrenched my gut.

  “Stop!” I fought against my restraints, trying to move my body between them. “Let go of him!”

  As if the world around her and Scrooge suddenly came to life, her eyes went to me with a flash of shock before it vanished. She straightened up, removing her hand from him. Scrooge sagged into the snowy cobblestone ground, his breaths clipped.

  “What. Did. You. Say?” The Queen turned fully to me, rage blistering off her like fireworks. “How dare you address me in such a manner!”

  Crap.

  “Who are you?”

  “This is Ms. Alice. The one I told you about.” Frosty tried to move in.

  “Shut up,” she barked at him. “I did not ask you.” Her head snapped to me, her gaze moving down my figure, taking in what I was wearing all the way to my curved boots. Somewhere I had lost the bells on the tips. “What are you wearing?” she hissed.

  “The uniform for the Rebel Alliance.” Blame it on the poison settling in my veins or doing what Scrooge and Frosty recommended…giving into the madness.

  “The what?” Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed.

  “Rebel Alliance. Where Han Solo, Princess Leia, and Luke Skywalker await my orders to attack this place.”

  I was pretty sure I heard Scrooge chuckle, but he could have been clearing his throat. Everyone else stared at me as if I were the one who lost my mind.

  Maybe I had.

  “There’s more of you?” She stepped closer to me.

  “Lots more,” I nodded. “Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione…even Ron. Though he’s pretty useless.”

  She continued to gawk at me. I would have enjoyed it more if I didn’t feel like collapsing. It took all I had to keep myself upright.

  “Well,” she clicked her tongue, taking a step back. “They might think twice when they see your head on a spike!” She whirled around. “Off with her head!”

  “But Majesty?” Frosty held up his arm. “Your Highness?”

  “What?” She spun back, her cape swirling perfectly with her movement.

  “D-d-don’t you think.” He sucked in nervously. “You should wait to chop off her head until the festivities? Wouldn’t it make more of an impact to this Rebel group if she were killed in front of everyone?”

  My eyes darted to Frosty, glaring at the talking snow cone.

  The Queen pressed her lips together, her fingers tapping at her chin.

  “I think you are right.” She drummed her candy cane on the steps. “It would make much more of an impression if her head came off then. More watching. Yes, Mr. Snowman, it is perfect.” A smile spread over her face. “This will be such a fun party. We haven’t had a beheading in a long time.” She pointed her cane at Scrooge and me. “Take them to the dungeons. I must go plan!” Like a kid waking up on Christmas morning, excitement bubbled over her and she headed into the castle, shouting orders at her staff.

  Scrooge was roughly yanked onto his feet, both of us being shoved toward another archway, Frosty moving in beside me.

  “Get away from me,” I huffed, trying to keep up with the
pace of the wooden sentinels dragging me toward stairs leading down.

  Dungeon.

  “I just saved you,” he hissed into my ear.

  “Saved me?” I laughed. “Is that what you call it? My head is going to be on the dessert platter!”

  “No. You’ll be the appetizer.”

  I did a double take, glowering harder at him.

  “Scrooge will be her denouement. You, my dear, are not worth much more than a starter.”

  “That makes it better.” I felt my tongue struggling to work.

  “I gave you hours. Otherwise, you’d already be dead,” he replied so low I barely heard him. “Don’t waste it.”

  With that he glided away, not looking back.

  I wagged my head, the haze thickening in my brain. Did he just act like he was trying to help me? I must have imagined it.

  Everything around me was starting to feel like a dream. The poison was going to make me lose my mind…before I lost my head.

  I was pretty sure I already had.

  Chapter 8

  We were unceremoniously shoved into a small cell. My knees raked over the hard stone as I tumbled to the floor, shredding what was left of my tights. I gritted my jaw together, stabs of pain biting at my nerves like incessant yapping dogs. Every part of my body ached.

  Scrooge stumbled in, falling next to me. “I can’t wait to light a match on the rest of you brainless minions.”

  I turned to see an indistinguishable solider slam the door, the metallic bang vibrating through my teeth. None of them said a word as they marched out of the dungeon, close to resembling zombies.

  A wave of nausea churned my head, and I dug my nails into the dirt between the cold stone pieces, trying to keep myself from falling over. I took a deep breath, and the stale air reeked of piss, mold, and death. Nope, no smell of sugar plums or sugar cinnamon cookies baking from “Mrs. Claus’s” house.

  “Alice.” Scrooge moved in next to me, his hand touching my sweat drenched forehead. “You’re burning up.”