Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,12

that would be exactly what he wanted, and I needed to stay focused on my goals. “Ball’s in my court, Morpheus. Twenty questions. I ask them, and you respond. I’m not striking any bargains with you until my curiosity is satisfied. No chasing rabbits.”

He snorted. “Not even white ones?”

Frowning, I opened my bag and took out the pen and spiral notebook. “No getting off track. Straight answers. You want something from me. If you’re going to get it, I’m calling the shots from here on out.”

“My, my. So tyrannical for one so young. I like that in an accomplice.” Legs crossed and folded in front of him, he steepled his hands under his chin and narrowed his eyes. “By all means, little ducky. You have the floor.”

Blue lightning branched out from his shadow along the cement beneath us, racing across the room in all directions. The washers and dryers activated and began to rumble and swish.

I ground my teeth. “I’m not ducky. Do you see any feathers on me? I’m Alison. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it?”

The jewels under his eyes blinked a warm orange hue. “Oh, I got it. But you don’t. Because you’re so much more than just a name.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Everyone is more. We’re each formed of life forces, then blood, bones, and spirit. And your blood is more precious than most.”

I couldn’t think of a response, too distracted by the motorized disturbances echoing off the walls. “Stop the machines. I need to be able to hear if someone’s coming.”

“Afraid not. My mind works better with a stir of chaos in the background. And yours needs to learn to do the same. As for our privacy, I have that all taken care of. Sneak a peek in the looking glass, peaches.”

Gritting my teeth at the new nickname—which was ten times as annoying as the first one—I lifted the mirror. The dim reflection of my face blurred, shifting to a portal that showcased the grounds around the laundry building. Tiny dots of light floated and bounced through the trees and grass. Looking closer, I could make out the shapes of miniature women with glittering scales and dragonfly wings.

A strange prickle raised the hairs on my skin—an awareness of the magic all around us that I never knew I had. “What are they?”

“Sprites. Though they may be small, they can stop anyone in their tracks should they try to interrupt us. Just pay heed where you’re walking when you leave. Otherwise, you might trip over a body or two.”

I gasped and set the mirror down. “They’ll kill them?” I couldn’t let that happen. One dead person on my conscience was enough.

Morpheus chortled. “I should’ve clarified. Dozing bodies. They’ll be no worse for wear once they wake, other than being immensely satisfied and confused. Most importantly, they’ll be too preoccupied with their own thoughts to know you were here, or to care, for that matter. But, I’m speaking out of turn again. You had some questions to ask me, yes?”

I have so many more now.

I shook off the hunger to know everything at once, determined to stay on task. I dragged my mother’s books from the pillowcase and laid them out between us, preparing to write his answers in my spiral notebook.

He clapped. “Oh, goody. I like this game. Show me all your cards, and I’ll show you mine. Just wait until you see what I have up my sleeve.”

“Would you stop talking already?” I scowled. “So, you and those . . . sprites . . . you live in Wonderland?”

His countenance lit up. He was obviously eager to answer, but he kept his mouth closed tight.

“Come on,” I pressed. “Are you from Wonderland?”

He remained silent.

“Seriously?”

“You asked me to stop talking.”

I dug my fingers into my knees. “Ugh. Answer me!”

“Tut.” He peeled off his gloves, one at a time, leisurely and maddeningly calm. “No need to get peevish. Yes . . . I’m from Wonderland, as are my lovely little pets outside.”

“Which means,” I swallowed, “Wonderland really is real?”

“It is.”

“And the rabbit hole, too?” I asked around the knot in my throat.

Studying me in the dim light, Morpheus nodded. “I can provide you with a map. Just say the word.”

I gripped the collar of my shirt, trying to cover the rapid pulse at my neck. “What role do you play there? I’ve never seen you in the stories.”

A strand of blue magic leapt from his fingertip to my “Alison’s” Adventures in Wonderland book. The electrified currents flipped