Page 67 of Locked in Wonderland

Why, after getting kidnapped, my subconscious whispered, would he be free to wander around choosing doors?

It was a question that had bothered me ever since my first glimpse of him had led me to the nightclub. How was Warren moving around Wonderland without restraint?

Nothing about it made sense.

Then again, very little in Wonderland did.

The only way I was going to get answers was by finding him.

Maybe he’d escaped his captors. Maybe he was searching for a way out. Maybe he was trying to get back to me.

Clinging to that possibility, I pushed open the blue door. A corridor awaited me. At least the lights stayed on in this one. That didn’t make it any less maze-like, but it did make me feel marginally more in control.

Doors lined both sides of the hallway.

I tried several.

Every single one was locked.

Just as I considered turning back and trying the red door instead, the corridor finally ended at a set of imposing double doors. They were made of glass, allowing me to see straight through them. The view beyond was concerning. A handful of people conversed, but most lay on mattresses, staring blankly ahead, clearly in a drugged stupor. Others weren’t alone on their mattresses and were engaged in the same enthusiastic activities Nico and I had indulged in the previous night. It was immediately obvious that I’d stumbled upon Wonderland’s version of a drug den.

I pressed my face against the glass to get a better look, searching for Warren’s familiar blond head. Frustration mounted when I didn’t see him.

He had to be here. Tom Cheshire had said this was where he’d gone. Of course, Tom could have been lying. Or… I’d been wrong and Warren had chosen the red door instead.

Indecision gnawed at me.

There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to set foot in the room beyond the glass. Wonderland had proven time and time again that even the most innocent-looking places had a sting in their tail, and this place looked far from innocent. Its depravity was on full display.

But—and it was a significant but—it would be negligent not to at least check. Unless I investigated the red door first and hoped it led somewhere more wholesome.

Decision made, I turned to leave. Or at least I tried to. I didn’t get far on account of an arm that slipped through my left one and another that hooked through my right. The two people who had somehow crept up on me during my period of distraction caught me between them, leaving me little choice but to allow them to propel me forward. It was like Percy and Lola all over again.

A second later, all three of us were through the double doors. The click as they closed sounded ominous. Which was a ridiculous thought. The exit was only a few feet away. All I had to do was walk back through it.

With that in mind, I pulled my arms free—first from the woman on my left, then from the man on my right.

The woman blinked at me owlishly. “No need to be so rough, darling.”

“No need at all,” the man agreed.

They even talked like Percy and Lola. This place was full of freaks.

I folded my arms, refusing to be intimidated. “First off, I’m not your darling. And second, why are you dragging me in here?”

“Dragging?” the man repeated, one eyebrow lifting. He was handsome in a strangely artificial way, as though he’d had a little too much Botox, cosmetic surgery, or both. Like a Ken doll.

The woman gave a haughty toss of her head. “You seemed shy. We were merely helping you muster some courage.”

“Merely helping,” the man echoed.

I might have believed them if they weren’t both eyeing me like I was something on a menu. The woman’s gaze settled on my wrist. “What a lovely watch! It looks expensive.”

I glanced down at it. The face caught the overhead light, just as it had in the restaurant when Warren had given it to me. How long ago had that been?

A week? Less?

I had lost track at some point.