Through the Rabbit Hole Read online

  Through the Rabbit Hole

  By Lisa Kumar

  Published by Astraea Press, LLC

  www.astraeapress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  THROUGH THE RABBIT HOLE

  Copyright © 2011 LISA KUMAR

  ISBN 978-1-936852-25-3

  Cover Art Designed By Elaina Lee

  Edited By Audrey Jamison

  My thanks to:

  Everyone at Astraea Press for their hard work and assistance; my family and friends for their encouragement and support; my mother, who served as a proof reader and read the story many times over to catch my errors; all the girls and guys at Romance Critters for their help.

  Chapter One

  Natalie Danvers sighed, looking at the darkening sky. Her day had been perfectly atrocious. Now late afternoon was fading away, and it seemed evening promised to be little better. She quickened her pace, wanting to get home before the clouds shared their bounty.

  A few other people hurried by her, likely trying to beat the storm. Otherwise, the sidewalk and street were eerily quiet. A frisson of unease swept over her, but she shrugged it off.

  Overhead, lightning streaked across the sky. She frowned as she felt the first raindrops fall. Getting home before becoming soaked seemed a moot point now. Pausing on the sidewalk, she ruffled through her tote for an umbrella she was sure wasn’t there. Her search ended in disappointment, much like everything else in her life.

  She should’ve definitely left work earlier. What had she been hoping for? Certainly not fame, fortune, or cruddy weather. The first two she would never achieve by working at a human services agency, while the last occurred with vexing regularity. A good thing she never wanted fame or fortune, but why did she have to be left with the least unattractive option out of the three?

  Glancing up, she froze. There, in the sky, was the most fascinating, yet frightening lightning she’d ever seen. Before, the bolts had been a normal whitish color. Now they were a neon purple color. Fear and a sinking sense of inevitability mingled in her stomach. She didn’t know whether to be glad the lightning seemed contained to the skies, flashing from cloud to cloud, or to run screaming at the sight playing out above her.

  Finally, her stupor somewhat evaporated. Should she seek shelter or take a chance running home? Natalie wiggled her toes, sore from her high-heeled pumps. She shook her head. No, her attire wasn’t too practical for a sprint home.

  Another flash of light, this one followed by an ominous rumble, caused her to startle. Her attention recalled, she knew exactly what she should be worrying about, and her shoes were not it.

  Her eyes scanned the buildings around her, looking for a shop she could slip into or at least an overhang that would offer some protection. A small Italian grocery, with bright inviting lights, was just ahead on her left.

  She quickly checked for traffic before stepping off the curb. Her nose scrunched up. The ground felt marshy and thick, as if it were something that had to be waded through. That analogy made her shiver. Lifting up her foot, she saw nothing attached to the bottom of her shoe. Her heart pounded as she recognized the real problem.

  As there was nothing stuck to the bottom of her shoes, there was also nothing under her feet, except for blackness. It wasn’t the black of a tarred road but the emptiness of nothing. She gulped, sure it was just a trick of the streetlight that had been previously shining down upon her. A glance at where the streetlight should’ve been showed no evidence of one. Squinting, she thought she saw, as if through a fog, a gleam of light way off in the distance. Natalie waded through the morass, which she felt but couldn’t see, toward that beckoning light.

  With every agonizingly slow step, her hope collapsed a little further. The light appeared no closer. Was she even moving? Warm tears slid down her cheeks, but she hardly registered them. All she knew was she needed to get out of here, wherever “here” was.

  Then suddenly a light appeared from nowhere, skidding toward her. Awe and fright warred but awe won out when she saw the light float nearer. It was certainly no streetlight but a glowing mass of dark purple sparks. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed for her to run. She barely paid attention to that noise, at least not until the ball of sparkling energy came closer. Self-preservation took over, and adrenaline shot through her limbs.

  But her ankles didn’t budge. Keeping a wary eye on the light, she reached down and pulled at her immobile limbs. Her hands went right through whatever was holding her, and she felt the hose she’d put on that morning smooth against her fingers. The harsh rattle of her breath filled her ears. When her increasingly hysterical attempts yielded no positive results, she stood up in defeat.

  The flickering light before her was mesmerizing, so close she could reach out and touch it. Of its own volition, her hand reached out and did just that. The mass of sparks sent a sizzling tremor through her. Amazingly, it didn’t hurt. In fact, it was almost…energizing.

  As she flexed her fingers, enjoying the sensations that streaked up and down her arm, she felt her ankles released. A push threw her forward into the waiting mass of black and purple. With that sudden force, she fell headfirst into the light, and the sensation of freefalling overtook her.

  ****

  Natalie dove headfirst…into nothing. Her stomach heaved at the sensation. She swallowed, taking in a breath that sounded like a cross between a gulp and a gasp.

  Just when she thought the nausea would overtake her, there was a pin-pick of light somewhere far below her. Her body righted itself so it lay on a horizontal plane, but that little circle of light expanded, rushing toward her.

  She screwed her eyes shut before her body crashed into the opening vortex of light and waited for the pain to come. None did. There was no hard impact with the ground or the crunch of broken bone.

  Instead, a satiny smooth fabric caressed her fingertips, and whatever she lay on was firm. A cool breeze wafted across the soles of her feet. She must have lost her shoes. Now all that remained for her to do was open her eyes. Natalie frowned, terrified to see what awaited her.

  Never one to let her fears overtake her, she’d worked up the nerve to do a full optical assault on her surroundings, when a throat cleared and a voice spoke.

  “And where did you come from, my pretty little bird?”

  She started. No one had ever called her a bird before. Was that lightly accented voice talking to her? Cracking open a wary eye, she gazed up at the face looming over her. And fell all over again, spiraling down into an unknown abyss.

  His would’ve been a sinfully handsome face, but for the fact he didn’t look exactly human. Oh, the eyes, nose, and mouth were there and in the right proportion, as was the general shape of the face. But the eyes glinted with an abnormal light—a purple iridescent light—under strongly arched brows. Brown hair that should have been normal wasn’t. It held too many varying shades of red and gold, running the spectrum back and forth between the two.

  He should’ve looked like some poster boy for hair color gone bad, but he didn’t. A light touch painted each strand with those varying hues, subtly morphing from one shade into the other. Somehow she intuitively knew no bottle had produced that crackling color. If it could have, women the world over would have been forking over their
cash for the dye to get that unusual but stunning result. And out of his long hair peeked something that also gave her pause. She blinked. His ears were pointed.

  But the most disturbing fact was he watched her with an intense fascination. Hadn’t he ever seen a woman before? But then, she had never before seen the likes of him.

  “You’re human, little bird.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. She’d been expecting a threat or demand, not an observation. Just who and what was he?

  He smiled, the grin creeping across his face like a ray of light. “We have legends about round-eared humans.”

  Natalie gaped at him, his randomness catching her off-guard. “Huh?” She’d literally fallen into his lap, and he told her they had legends of humans?

  “I believe you flew too far and are now nowhere near your home. We shall have to provide our little bird with shelter until she knows where her nest lies.”

  He took the bird analogy a bit far, and his wording struck her as strange. To whom did the ‘we’ refer?

  She sucked in a deep breath, and the questions forming on her lips died. He gazed a little too intently at where her hair covered her ears before he lifted his arm. Time slowed down to a crawl as she tracked the movement of his hand. At the first touch, she closed her eyes, or so she thought. Even with her lids closed, she swore she could still see him sweep the strands back from her face. Sight and touch further combined as he gently traced her right ear, leaving a burning wake of pleasurable tingles. Or was it her left...her brain had turned to goo.

  Shifting, Natalie suddenly became aware she was sprawled across his lap—a lap she didn’t know and couldn’t quite reconcile as being real. And never mind the lightly tanned hand that touched one of her ears as if it were a novelty. Her thoughts finally sank in and propelled her into motion, causing her to roll rather ungracefully off his person. Thankfully, he didn’t move to either help or restrain her.

  Once she was a more comfortable foot or two away from him, a bewildered fright ran riot through her veins. She couldn’t have moved any more than she already had. Her numb body refused any commands demanding movement.

  Before she fully realized it, he stood above her and extended a hand. “Come.”

  “Come?” she echoed. Something didn’t add up, but she couldn’t quite place a finger on it. She glanced from his hand to his face, back to his hand. Then clarity struck. This moment seemed familiar, as if she’d lived it before. Without Natalie consciously deciding, her hand sought out his.

  “To my home, to my city. You have three weeks, after all.”

  Her reaching hand halted. “Three weeks?”

  Grasping her hand, he pulled her up, not answering. She trailed behind him, and when she had all but given up on him responding, he spoke. “Three weeks to decide where your dreams rest. If they don’t lie here with me, you will go back to your world with no remembrance of this one or the people in it.”

  She stumbled at his words, her mind hazing over like a foggy mirror. Blessed blackness swamped over her, and down she spiraled again.

  ****

  Lorh glanced down at the burden in his arms, squaring his jaw. The events set in place so many years ago now came to fruition. Though those years were nothing more than a flick of an eyelash to his people, he had felt every day painfully. If not for his family, it would have been unbearable. Now he only needed to warn them.

  They would be overjoyed. Given time, he hoped Natalie would feel the same.

  A brief smile played over his lips. To have her fall into his lap had been a pleasant surprise. His hand glided over her black shoulder-length hair, and what he found made him frown. She would have to let it grow to befit her station.

  His gait sped up in his haste to reach the manor, only to slow when the graceful lines of his home came into sight. He would get her settled in and let the process begin.

  She had arrived, and they wouldn’t allow her to fly away so easily. A tether stronger than leather or cage would hold her to their side. Time and memory would see to it.

  Chapter Two

  Conscious of a chirping she shouldn’t be hearing in her apartment, Natalie groaned. Even if she’d left her bedroom window open, there wasn’t really much in the way of tree or garden outside her building. She flung an arm over her eyes in an attempt to shut out the light that filtered through her closed eyelids, huffing in annoyance when there was a knock on her door.

  Wait. A knock on her door? Who would be knocking on her door during this time of—Natalie’s hand flailed for her alarm clock on the night stand next to her as her eyes aided in the search for the missing timepiece. When she saw the night table—and worse, the room in which it was located, her hand stilled, as did the rest of her body. This was not her bedroom.

  Disbelief pumping through her veins, she shot up in bed and took in her surroundings. A knock sounded on the door again. She put a trembling hand on her forehead. What…where…was…she?

  Through distant ears she heard yet another knock but couldn’t bring herself to care. Her mind reeled as she remembered a scene of purple glowing eyes, along with a sky of that color. No, wait. Purple lightning and mysterious lights flickering in the air was what she’d seen. But they couldn’t really exist, could they?

  She jumped out of the bed, her legs tangling in the sheets and on the long nightgown she wore. Nightgown? As her balance faltered, Natalie didn’t have much time to reflect on the mysterious gown before she felt herself falling. When she made contact with the smooth floor, the wind rushed out of her body. The slap of a knee and elbow against the hard surface caused tears to well up in her eyes.

  Pain radiated up and down her leg. She lay in her sprawled out position for a moment before blinking them away. Gingerly lifting her head, she scanned the room for what she sought: a window.

  When her gaze landed on one, she tore the sheets away from her legs and skidded over to the window. It would tell her something of her sanity, if she had any left. Ripping the flimsy curtains to one side, she revealed a veranda, its door ajar. She fought the urge to stagger back and held onto the coverings with an iron grip.

  The scenery didn’t look right. Nothing was right. The veranda on which she stood overlooked a courtyard, housing exotic plants and trees. While not a horticultural expert, she’d never seen greenery look or act the way these specimens did. Multihued flowers opened and closed, almost as if they were communicating. Branches of trees waved. She stuck a hand through the open window. There was no breeze. Squinting, she saw her eyes hadn’t deceived her. Those trees branches intertwined, knobby hands meeting in a silent dance.

  Beyond the courtyard, a stream flowed—a stream of clear glistening violet. Dropping her gaze to where her hands gripped the curtains, she only then noticed how all feeling had deserted them. She loosened her left hand and stared at it, flexing the fingers as blood flowed back into the extremities. As normal color returned, her fingers tingled while reality spun out of control.

  A hand touched her shoulder. Natalie whirled around, stifling a scream, ready to knock away any further touch. Everything came back to her, flooding her mind with images. The storm. The fall. The male. All fight fled her body.

  There, before her, stood a young girl. About the height and size of a seven-year-old human, the girl couldn’t be defined as human. She resembled him too much. The same hair, brows, and ears. But the eyes, they were different. They seemed not so glowing—more human, more bluish with just a hint of purple.

  “M…my lady, how do you fare?”

  “Where am I?”

  “My brother will explain all.” Her voice held an odd inflection.

  “Your brother?”

  “He was the one who found and brought you here.”

  That would explain the similarity in countenance and accent. Natalie licked her dry lips, but couldn’t stop the rush of questions. “Who are you? What are you?”

  The girl didn’t speak, carefully avoiding Natalie’s eyes. She appeared as uncomfortable as Nat
alie herself.

  “Aiya, you may go now.”

  Both Natalie and Aiya whirled toward the doorway, from where the voice had originated. There stood the male whose lap she’d fallen into.

  Aiya smiled. “Ah…brother, you’re here.”

  “And none too soon.” His tone held a teasing quality to it Natalie found pleasing. He clearly cared for his sister.

  The child bowed her head slightly toward both of them. “Good afternoon.” She walked past her brother and out the open door.

  ****

  Natalie pinned him with a stare, her heart pounding for some peculiar reason. Since he was quite tall, even from that distance, she had to crane her neck a bit. He gazed back, returning her treatment. Tension crawled up and down her spine. Wanting to break eye contact, she grabbed at something, anything, to say. Words were not so easy to come by, though, and the moments crept by.

  “What am I doing here?” Surprise jolted through her. While the necessity of the words couldn’t be denied, she hadn’t planned on uttering them yet. Indeed, she hadn’t planned on uttering anything.