average human’s Reviews > Into the Madness > Status Update

And now we’re alone, my savior and I.
On shaking legs, I stand. Sand scrapes through my hair as I attempt to smooth my wig back into place. The clips pull against my scalp, and I wince instantly. I take a step back. And then another. And another.
“I actually have to go. My friends are waiting for me.” Friends. That’s good. Good job, Maddy. “My boyfriend gets really angry when he has to wait for me.” Oh yes. The boyfriend. The angry boyfriend. I’m just about to toss out more scary words for the man who may be a hero, or he may be a future homicidal maniac who just happens to like women in dripping mascara and crooked wigs, when he says something I never could have expected.
“Wanderlust is expecting you. This is In Trance Island, and there’s only one exit, I’m afraid.” His tone is this alluring sound that only better confirms that he’s a murderer. They’re charming, you know. Charming and alluring and they say charismatic things like there’s only one exit.
“Entrance Island?” I ask.
A killer—murderous—smile almost slips over the hard line against his lips.
“Not quite.”
With a single step, he covers the space between us, and I stumble against the soft sand to put more distance in place.
“In Trance.” The rasping whisper of his words seems to stir something within the island itself. Shimmering fog in shades of pink and purple pools around our legs. Fear pushes against my chest, and I can’t help but breathe it all in, all the pretty colors.
I must look like a weak little sheep ready for slaughter.
But my instincts are screaming a totally different appearance.
I look up at the handsome stranger one last time.
And then I run.
On unsteady steps, I tear through the lashing forest on black high heels that I’m now regretting. I kick them off and keep going. Vines and limbs snap against my skin, and still I claw my way into the darkness. The moonlight is repressed from the twisting limbs above. The only light is the glimmering colors of the fog that’s creeping higher and higher and higher. I stumble here and there. I never stop running.
Even as the whispers in the shadows start to talk to themselves and become unbearably louder.
“She’s here.”
“She’s there.”
“She’s nowhere.”
“Is she royal or is she mad?”
“Either way, both are bad.”
“She’s beautiful, exactly like they said.”
“If she isn’t careful, she’ll soon be dead.”
The eerie voices jolt terror into my bloodstream, distracting me the more they circle around the trees. They claw at me until I stumble. A cry of pain falls from my lips as my hands hit hard against the terrain. My fingers dig into the wet mud. My eyes open just as black boots interrupt the pink fog.
“You lost your heels, Prospect.” Two black high heels slap against the puddle I’m resting in. My lungs ache as I realize I’ve put zero amount of space between myself and my heroic murderer. I’m not even going to be that woman that they say put up a good fight in the end.
They’ll say he slathered Madison Torrent in mud and leaves to cover up the fact that she was a train wreck before he even captured her.
My lashes flutter slowly as I take another heaving breath of the pink wafting fog.
His movements are drifting and delayed, and I can’t seem to track them as I struggle to keep my eyes open. It’s then that I realize how similar his eyes are to the glinting sea. The hypnotic water is what got me into this mess.
Now I’m staring mesmerized by that color all over again.
“Konstance will be displeased about the state of your appearance, Prospect. She likes the prospects to look a certain way. A hopeful way. A…you know, you’ll have to do. It is what it is.” He shakes his head at me in blurring movements.
All those crime shows I watched on repeat in the hospital drift through my thoughts. I should have spent my days binging Jeopardy, and maybe then I’d be smart enough to get out of this. Instead I’m analyzing everything my murderer does just before he does it. Watching those shows in chemo, I always said I’d never be the girl who didn’t put up a fight.
I barely have the energy to reply.
My words are a slurred garble of sounds as I put the last strength I have into jerking my leg up hard between his thighs. He groans when my foot connects with his balls.
Once more, I mumble to him a ridiculous string of words that don’t really make any sense in my mind.
“All I wanted was an orgasm.”
His groan of pain is interrupted as confusion creases his brow.
“Konstance is going to be so disappointed.” He shakes his head and stands, adjusting himself with a wince.
My lashes become heavier. His arms slip around me, warming my body with his. The last thing I remember is burying my head into my sweet captor’s chest.
And feeling completely calm at last.

10%

That is the real issue here.
“Where’s the exit?” It’s the first thing I’ve said to him in almost an hour. He saved my life—twice—but I just don’t have any kindness to show him.
It’s a conflicting arrangement we have. He stole me away, but he’s also keeping me safe.
There’s no trust between us. Even if he saved me a thousand times, he’s always going to be my captor.
I’ve never known who I can trust. Not in college, not here. I guess growing up with people calling you Sick Girl makes you a little vehement toward others. It isn’t my sweet murderer’s fault I distrust him, but my outlook isn’t going to change any time soon.
“The exit is through Dismay Forest in the Elders’ Kingdom.” His quick answer cuts through my dark thoughts.
There’s no hesitation when he speaks. I ask and he answers. It’s odd. If I am his captive, why would he feed me information so freely? My mind takes in his confusing answer and demands another and another.
“What will the King do with me?”
“If you’re Alice, he’ll keep you. Crown you just like you wanted.” His cold blue eyes meet mine for only a moment. The look in his eyes makes me think he’s the kind of man who’s been hardened by life. It’s hurt him and it shows.
“And if I’m not Alice?”
“Then you’re free to leave, Prospect.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It sounds more appealing than Fuck You.”
Damn. He’s right. But the pettiness in me won’t allow me to tell him that.
“And the Prophet, what will the Prophet do?”
That near smile tilts the corner of his lips again as he continues to row us into the distance. God, he’s too attractive when he smiles. If sex had a poster child, it’d be Kais St. Croix. Coincidently, if America’s Most Wanted had a poster child, it’d also be Kais St. Croix.
“The Profit,” he enunciates that word in that deep delicious tone of his, but I’m not sure why, “will declare if you’re you or not.”
“If I’m not me, who else would I be?”
In an appreciating way, his gaze trails over my body slowly before coming back to meet my eyes.
I’m a fucking mess, so I don’t have a clue what he sees in me.
“In Wanderlust, you can be anyone. You can be whatever your heart desires.”
A strange feeling flares to life within me, making my heart pound harder. No more Sick Girl. I can be anyone. I can be someone. Finally.
“Unless you’re Alice.”
“And then I’m destined to be the King’s Queen.”
He nods, a subtle movement of his head.
Hmmm…Alice is better than Sick Girl. Not that it matters. I have leukemia. I wonder what their Prophet will say about that.
“Why is Alice so important to the Prophet and the King?”
“The Profit has declared a woman of resilient strength, kindness, and intelligence to be the peace within the two Kingdoms. He says it’ll end all the suffering of our people. Alice will be the final newcomer to this realm. Wanderlust was made for Alice.” Kais pauses to do an inventory of all the bruises and scrapes I’ve done to myself since we’ve met.
I bet I look strong and smart, for sure.
I smooth a clump of mud off of my cotton skirt, and it hits the floor with a sloppy plopping sound.
Yeah, I’m definitely Alice material.
“Why do you think her name will be Alice?” I try my best to brush the random dried blood off my palm and find that a small cut slices down the center of it from my fall in the forest. A sharp breath sneaks in through my teeth as I press too hard on it.
“There are miscellaneous visions here and there. Little details that the Profit has collected over the centuries.”
“Centuries.” My voice cuts through his words as my eyes widen.
“We’ve been waiting a long time for the woman who calls herself Alice. Like I said, it’s not likely that you’re The One. You’re more likely just another brick in the foundation of this world. We’re all rather used to disappointment by now.” His tone makes it sound like he’s only ever disappointed.
Me too, friend, me too.
I stare at him in silence. He avoids my gaze, so I take the moment to just openly study him.
He’d be really sexy if he smiled more. Dangerously sexy. Tattoos, strong body, deep eyes. My mother would be shooing him away with yesterday’s newspaper if she ever set eyes on Kais St. Croix. My virginity on the other hand would be waving him down like a landing strip waiting for a fighter jet to soar right in.
“Don’t look at me like that, Prospect.” He keeps his attention on the sky, somber expression held in place as he keeps a steady pace rowing.
“Like what?” I fight the smile against my lips, trying hard to mimic his careless expressions.
He levels me with a gaze that pours right into me. “Just don’t.”
The small smile that wanted so badly to slip into place falls away entirely. He’s too serious. He isn’t playful. He’s every bit as dangerous as I thought he was when we were on land.
I don’t know why I’m trying to see him in a different light. Stockholm syndrome. Definitely Stockholm.
It’s not like I trust him. He has a long way to go to find the trust that’s somewhere sunken low and forgotten within me.
With another hard push of the oars through the sea, the boat lurches abruptly. My body shifts forward before rocking back. I look up just as he stands. Behind him, up the side of a cliff, high up in the heavens, twinkling lights dot the darkness. A warm golden glow splays around the small lights. There are only a few, maybe a dozen at the most, but they’re a beautiful warm color against the stark dark setting.
A village with broken lamp lights and disorderly shack homes stacked too closely together meets the coast. The lanes of the roads are jagged and carelessly bricked. The entire place looks dark and dirty.
The petite woman who crosses the street is what’s truly unsettling. Her arms reach out for the door of a small house, and the lantern light above shines through the thin white wings on her back. Delicate features lead up to a hairless skull, and two long feathery antennae twitch atop her head.
She slips inside. I’m left gaping in horror at the sight of…the creature. The…moth woman.
Kais climbs out of the small boat with ease, pulling it harder into the sand, making me nearly fall to the floor once again. This time, I stay there for several seconds, my heart pounding, my body unable to move.
Kais seems completely unaware.
The edge of the blade scrapes against the old wood as he pulls it from the floor and slips it carefully into a belt at his hip.
He looks back at the twinkling lights above the cliff. With a snap of his fingers, beaming red embers flare from his fingertips, shooting up into the night sky. The firing color blooms out in waves, lighting up the night with this signal of crimson.
I look to Kais’s palm, but nothing’s there. No flare gun. No fireworks. Just him.
My spine stiffens when his cold gaze settles on me.
He tilts his head at me as if he’s just noticing my unease. As if when I ran from him wasn’t enough for him to know I don’t trust him. But right now, now he sees my apprehension of this place.
This isn’t a dream. It’s a nightmare.
“It’s Wanderlust.” He hesitates, waiting for understanding to fall into place.
It doesn’t.
“Wanderlust is like a feeling. But it’s also a sort of magic this world gives us. The longer you’re here, the more that magic settles into you.”
“M-magic?”
I want to say more. I want to ask about the moth lady, but all I can manage are the uneven breaths that are falling from my lips.
He looks uncomfortable as he stands before me, and I sit gaping up at him. Fear trickles in slowly at first and then it crashes, pressing in on my chest and gripping my lungs.
A light flickers on from high above. It shines through a square window. Another lights up. Another and another and another. Until a daunting castle is outlined against the dark sky on the very edge of the cliff above.
It’s then I realize his magic was a signal. He was signaling that I’m here. He notified the creatures of this land.
“Come. We don’t want to be late.” He extends a big hand to me.
A thousand thoughts fly through my mind. Every one of them is just as stupid and dangerous as the last. But one sticks out among all others.
I need to find Dismay Forest.
The boat shifts beneath me as I stand in my three-inch heels in the middle of the rickety little boat. His pale eyes skim up my dirty white socks over my long legs, torn dress, and tight material before meeting my gaze.
Does he see my intentions there? Does he know?
If I had to guess, I’d say no.
In one swift move, I grab the oar and fling it up with more strength than I’ve had in weeks. The impact of it against his jaw shakes through my hands hard enough for me to drop the thing. An angry curse growls through him. I leap, my heels sinking the moment I touch land.
And then I run.

13%

I can’t breathe. There’s not a breath in my lungs, but I scream anyway.
I scream his name despite how much I swore I wouldn’t trust him.
“Kais. Kais. FUCKING KAIS!”
My body jolts forward, the man covering me, slamming me to the ground hard as we both fall. A sharp cracking noise sounds through my head, and the weight pressing down on me is thrown to the side. Kais stands tall, looming over the man with death in his eyes as he glares down on him, his sword held firmly in hand. He arches it up and brings it down in one quick sweep of the blade.
A crying scream and chaotic flipping and flopping follows the slice of the sword. I peer over with disgust to find the man’s many arms convulsing like erratic fish on the ground.
“Touch the King’s property again, and I’ll quarter you.” Kais’s jaw grinds shut, and he sheaths his weapon at his lean hips.
He really is making my demented affection for him worse and worse. Someone needs to slap the crazy out of me now before my irrational affection for this man gets any worse.
Too late.
The air knocks from my lungs. I’m tossed over his shoulder with ease, and I’m almost thankful to be carried away from whatever other creatures this village is hiding in its darkness.
Why am I so damn happy to be in my captor’s arms? What in the Law & Order: SVU is wrong with me? I swear I was a logical woman before I met him.
The firmness of his ass is right in my face as my arms dangle pathetically over my head. Strong hands hold my thighs as he walks casually through the forest.
“You know, I think I misjudged you, Fuck You.”
I roll my eyes at the name I gave myself and his unwillingness to forget it.
Why can’t he be like me? I forget ninety-eight percent of names the moment they’re spoken. But no, I give him a sarcastic name one time, and he refuses to let it go.
“Misjudged me how?” I peer down at the blade on his opposite hip as it shifts back and forth with his every step.
I’m not athletic. I’m that person whose arms get tired from holding her Kindle up for too many hours late into the night.
But I’m not the sort of person who gives up either.
“Maybe you are The One.”
My eyes widen just slightly. My fingers open as I quietly extend my hand toward the hilt.
“You’re definitely one big pain in my ass. Stop stretching, you’re never going to reach that, Prospect.”
My jaw tightens as I meld against his back, fisting his shirt in my hand to try to grip the shining sword. It’s a struggle, an embarrassing struggle that isn’t getting me anywhere.
“As big of an asshole that he is, he’s usually right,” a smooth voice says from behind us.
My palm presses against his lower back—God, is every part of him hard as rock?—and I heave myself up to see the person. With my other hand, I shove the long blonde locks from my face. I feel like such a shit show right now. I look like a toddler being carried out of the grocery store mid-tantrum. I’m astounded the wig has held in place this well.
The brick roads are no longer beneath us, and dirt and leaves take their place. The scent of pine fills the air as our surroundings become a bit darker among the trees.
Shining violet eyes meet mine. I can’t make out much of her features, but she seems to be a woman. What kind of terrifying woman, I don’t know. The way she walks is a calm and smooth movement. It’s like nothing in this world can get in her way. The slinking way she shifts through the trees captures my attention as she follows behind us.
“Another Alice?” she asks, her pretty eyes look up to the back of Kais’s head.
“One more to add to the list.” He keeps walking without pausing to see if our new friend is following. His steps become jarring, and I look down to find wooden steps beneath us. He pounds his boots against them without care, jolting my head against his lower back with every quick step he takes.
She’s right; he is an asshole.
Can he be a savior and an asshole at the same time? Well, I’m a good person and also a bitch at the same time, so I guess anything’s possible.
“I think you’re hurting New Alice,” the woman says.
“Temporary Alice can fend for herself.”
“You think so? She looks so delicate. Breakable. Delicious.” A long finger strokes along my cheek before I pull my face away from the woman’s hand.
“You don’t know Fuck You Alice like I do, Cat.”
Oh my God. My name keeps getting worse and worse with each passing second.
Harder he stomps, making the weak boards groan beneath us. I mentally try to calculate how much weight he and I are putting on the thin boards. My hand presses against his ribs to better adjust myself, meeting nothing but hard muscle underneath. Shit, muscle weighs more than fat.
It’s not looking good for us.
The dark forest slips away, and ocean breeze tangles my hair. I look down to see the crashing waves far below. The white water slaps against the rock, and I stare wide-eyed at it as he stomps up the stairs that are hanging off the side of the cliff.
The breath catches in my lungs, and I try not to recalculate our weight in my head. One forty plus two ten—my hands give a little press against his muscle tone once again, and once again I’m reminded that not a single part of him has ever tasted the bliss of a jelly doughnut—make that two twenty…
Just breathe. You’re okay. Everything is okay.
“Fuck You Alice is turning a little white, Kais. Is that anything to be alarmed about?” Cat sways her hips with each gentle step up the stairs that she takes. Furry pink ears twitch against her hair as she studies my expression, and I blink repeatedly at the sight of them.
This is a dream. This is just a fucking dream nightmare.
The cracking of a board sounds out just before my body jars against Kais’s back. A screech rips through me, and my nails dig into his back.
He groans as he stiffens. His arms flex against the wooden railing on either side. Carefully, he snaps his fingers, and with ease we rise. The board cracks again, but this time it mends itself. Kais’s spine straightens before he continues his task of carrying me higher and higher up the side of the cliff.
Cat waits, looking over the man’s handy work before taking another gentle step. Her small shoulders shrug as she trails after us.
“So Fuck You Alice, where are you from, my darling?” Those ears shift again along her thick hair.
My eyes close, and a breath slips from my lips. I get to leave soon, right? When they decide I’m not Alice, I can leave. I might as well just tough it out until then. Get this over with.
“I just moved to California. I’m a freshman at the University of Southern California.”
“Ah, the surface world. Such a terrible wasteland. I was a Princeton girl myself.”
I blink up at the…cat woman…she’s a cat woman.
“You went to Princeton?”
“Oh, yeah. I was one of their very first female graduates. Very scandalous. My mother cried about it for weeks.”
I look up at her smooth skin. Her beautiful smile. Her perfect voluptuous figure.
“What year was that, Cat?”
Full lips pull into an alluring smile. “The nineteen seventies.” It seems like a fond memory for her. It makes her happy, and it makes me confused.
She’s young. Just a bit older than myself. But she’s lived through the seventies…
“Where are you from, Kais?”
“Oh, you’re asking me personal questions now. I don’t think we’re at that point in our relationship yet. I—literally—don’t know your name, Prospect.”
“Stop deflecting and answer her.” Cat rolls her eyes with a sigh.
“My family came to America from Bordeaux, France.”
There is a hint of an accent in his words. It’s incredibly faint though. Hearing him speak of France is the first time I’ve actually heard the dip of his words. It’s like saying the country out loud triggers the pretty accent in his tone. Aside from that, his English is perfect.
Thank God he didn’t use the accent on me from the start or my infatuation with my captor would have blown right into planning the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Fuck You.
“Tell her the other thing. Women love the other thing, Kais.” Cat nods enthusiastically.
“Women do not love the other thing.” He quiets for a moment, and I’m now genuinely curious about that other thing. Thankfully, he does tell. “I was a general in the Civil War.”
“The winning side,” Cat whispers while my head spins.
In my head, I swim through all the little middle school rhymes and tricks to remembering dates just to stutter out a vague timeline.
“In the eighteen hundreds?” My brow tenses as I blink hard at the ground.
“Yes.”
“You’re two hundred years old?”
“Not quite. Your math isn’t nearly as good as I had hoped for a Prospect.” His condescending tone is cutting and a little tired sounding, possibly from chasing after me and hauling me around this Kingdom.
A few more blinks at the ground don’t help me understand their age at all. When I don’t speak for several long seconds, he finally pities me enough to explain.
“In Wanderlust, time does not exist. It doesn’t move forward. It doesn’t progress. We’re just here. Every day. Carrying on and waiting.” His boots hit solid ground, and his steps become just slightly slower.
“Waiting for what?”
Bright light washes over the grass. Footsteps sound all around us, growing closer and closer until bodies press in on us.
“Alice. It’s another Alice.”
“This one’s her, I just know it.”
“It’s her. It’s her.”
Voices carry and fingers snag against my dirty dress, but Kais just pulls me closer against his strong body.
When he speaks, his voice is low, barely a whisper among the chanting of that name.
“We’re waiting for you, of course.”