She huffed. “I never asked you do anything that really mattered. Life or death—”
“As I recall you used those exact same words when telling me how Hook—”
“Will you shut up!” Her lips snarled, but he noticed she wasn’t simply angry. Anger he could ignore.
What he’d never been able to ignore and damned his black heart for, were the tears sparkling in her big blue eyes.
As a Huntsman he was often asked to exact justice, sometimes even against those he knew were innocent. It wasn’t always pretty, in fact, it often wasn’t. He’d learned long ago to stop caring.
But there was something about a woman’s tears that he’d never been able to ignore.
“What,” he growled, “do you want?”
As if sensing his wavering capitulation, her lips turned into a wobbly grin. “The Hatter’s and Alice’s daughter.”
“The moon cursed one, what of her?”
All within Kingdom had heard of the tragic fate that’d befallen the Hatter’s daughter. But just because it was tragic didn’t make it unique, tragedy and fairy tales often went hand in hand.
“She’s escaped,” she hiccupped, “she must be found before the Ten—”
“Decide she must be handled.” He grinned, deducing the truth immediately. “Very clever, Danika. You know the Ten will turn to me should that fate be handed down.”
He read the truth of it in her eyes.
Snorting, he chugged back the last of his brew. “So I find her first. And then what, I put an arrow through her head, a sword through her heart?”
“NO!” Her hands waved manically around. “No. You bring her to us. I’ll give you the tool you’ll need to capture her. Once she’s captured, you’re free.”
He hated to be mercenary about this, but then again… “And what of payment?”
“Whatever you desire. Your choice.”
His eyes narrowed, almost able to smell her anticipation through space and time. “What do you want?”
“I’ll determine that at the end of the mission.”
“So you’ll do it?” She beamed.
“Aye.” He slammed the tankard down on the rough-hewn table and flipped a coin to the center of it. “I’ll do it. My terms, my rules. No exceptions.”
“As long as she remains safe, then aye, your rules.”
Nodding, he stood to go. “Where is the girl?”
“Follow the twisted trail of dead bodies in Wonderland.”
Bloody hell, Wonderland. His night just kept getting better and better.
*
Stopping by his hut to gather supplies, the Huntsman noted a strange item sitting on his dinner table.
And it was the width of his palm. Just a small mesh of black rope. Picking it up, he flipped it over and frowned. What was this?
The prickling fog of Danika’s pink light unfurled before him and then her floating face appeared once more. “Good it’s you. I spelled the netting to engulf in flame anything that tried to touch it.” She chuckled. “Except for you of course. Of course.”
Her lack of commonsense sometimes astonished him. “You do realize if it’d been anyone else my home would have caught on fire.”
“Let’s be real here, Huntsman, you’ve nothing of true value to lose. Besides, the net is powerful magic, I dread to think what it could do in the wrong hands.”
“Of course,” he muttered, only a fairy would care more for her trinkets than a man’s home. “So what does this do?” He tossed it up in the air.
Her eyes bugged when he did. “Don’t do that!” she shrieked, hands held palms out. “Because the child was cursed by the moon, only the power of the moon can contain her. Should you stumble upon her by day, you must toss the web on her, the moon’s light strengthens her, but only if she’s free to roam. With the net she’s as weak as any other, the black netting will call forth that light and help you to contain her properly, and more than that, the net is made from truth, it’s power is beyond—”
“This wee thing?” he snickered, palming the scrap of what must pass for fairy rope. “I doubt it could hold a bug, much less a girl.”
She growled, exposing the length of her baby fangs. He almost laughed. He’d seen scarier.
“It will grow to encapsulate whatever it’s thrown over,” she rolled her eyes as if that much was obvious, “Do not use it to trap anything but her. No fish, no fowl, nothing. Do you understand me?”
“Do you think I’m five?”
She huffed. “Bloody hell, you vex me.”
Mutual. He lifted a brow.
Rolling her eyes, she said, “that is the only net of its kind. Jericho had it fashioned for me, now that you have it I can’t leave the fire charm on it. So do not lose it. Put it away where you cannot lose it. I can’t stress that enough, Aeric.”