Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Aware that I was flogging a dead horse by trying to engage the sniffy Lady Penelope in conversation, I gave up on small talk and tried to pay attention to my surroundings.
It was easier said than done. Although Lady Penelope was carrying a flaming torch, she kept it close to her body and hogged most its glow.
The result for me was a tiny puddle of dim light in a vast ocean of darkness.
I couldn’t tell how far away the tunnel walls were, or if there were turns or exits that I ought to be aware of. I considered retrieving my witchlight bottle again but decided against it and focused on my innate sense of direction.
I’d not travelled far through the Understream during my last illegal visit and I’d expected that most of the Understream tunnels would be dank, smelly and dripping with mould.
Here at least the opposite was true. The air was surprisingly clear and dry; whoever had designed these tunnels had created an effective ventilation system.
There was no sound of scurrying rats and my comfortable shoes clicked pleasingly on the flat, smooth stones beneath my feet.
We’d likely been walking about three hundred metres before we curved to our right. When Lady Penelope made a sharp turn and I followed, I noticed a light breeze filtering in from the opposite direction. I inhaled deeply and detected a tickle of lavender and spruce. Interesting.
When we turned again and I heard a faint roaring in the distance, I was certain I knew where we were. The Understream was more vast and impressive than I’d realised because that could only be the River Tweed somewhere above our heads.
We were moving in a westerly direction and I reckoned that we’d continue for another mile or so.
Common sense dictated that the Understream mirrored the outside world; if I were planning to locate a bureaucratic office, it would be beneath Crackendon Square.
However, Lady Penelope stopped when we reached another set of crossroads. ‘We shall wait here,’ she declared.
Before I could ask why, there was a series of high-pitched clicks from our left. Lady Penelope huffed in annoyance as a fluttering bat appeared from out of the darkness. It circled above our heads and I felt its beady gaze as it chittered its interest. ‘Stop that this instant!’ she snapped.
The bat squeaked, then there was an explosion of black smoke.
Suddenly I was no longer gazing upwards but staring ahead at the smartly dressed figure of a youthful male vampire.
I knew that he could be any age, but something about his demeanour and relaxed stance told me that he was closer to my age than to Methuselah’s.
He was smoothly handsome, albeit with the same pale skin as his female compatriot.
‘Penny!’ he declared, throwing his arms wide as if to embrace her.
‘Ugh.’ She took a step backwards, trod on my toes and muttered an expletive.
Only slightly unbalanced, I moved aside and gazed at the newcomer. He’d abandoned his attempt to hug her in favour of grinning at me and deliberately flashing his white fangs. ‘You brought a new thrall to the Understream, Pen? How very avant-garde of you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Thomas,’ she snapped. ‘Thralls are not permitted here any more, as you well know.’
‘I know that you’re a stickler for the rules, Pen, but I also know that rules are made to be broken.
’ When he licked his lips slowly and eyed me, it took me a moment to realise that his interest was borne not of sexual desire but of hunger.
‘I’ve not long woken,’ he murmured. ‘I could do with some refreshment.’ He dipped his head forward until I felt his cold breath on my skin.
Killing a vampire was out of the question, at least at that particular moment with a witness watching my every move, but that didn’t stop me defending myself. I sucked in a breath, angled my body towards his and kneed him sharply in the groin.
The precocious vampire released a high-pitched cry and crumpled to the ground. ‘What … the … fuck…?’
I drew back and returned my attention to Lady Penelope.
She wasn’t horrified at my actions; if anything, she appeared to approve.
‘Interesting,’ she said. ‘When I met you beneath the clocktower I doubted that you were the one who had killed poor Brassick, but I see that there is more bite to you than meets the eye, Ms McCafferty.’
‘You really can call me, Kit,’ I said.
Lady Penelope pursed her lips. ‘I will take that under advisement.’ She raised her head. ‘Our transport is here. And not a moment too soon,’ she added quietly.
A beat later, I caught a glimmer of warm, orange light followed by the vast head of a giant worm. I swallowed. Hungry vampires were one thing; gigantic worms were quite another.
‘Do not be concerned,’ Lady Penelope said. ‘This is Dusty. He is one of our more amiable friends.’
‘Friends?’
‘It is what we call the worms.’
The massive creature slid to a halt in front of us.
A lantern dangled in front of his head like a carrot on a stick, and some sort of seating contraption with benches was perched on his back.
Dusty – if that was his name – was far larger than the worm I’d seen during my previous visit to the Understream. Frankly, he was monstrous.
Lady Penelope didn’t appear to notice my discomfort and Thomas was too wrapped up in his pain to pay any attention. He groaned from his crumpled position on the ground while Lady Penelope patted Dusty with what seemed to be genuine affection.
You can’t be scared of a worm, Kit, I told myself. Even a giant worm. You’re here to save the damn worms, not run from them screaming. I swallowed my fear. ‘Can I touch him?’
‘You may.’
I reached forward tentatively. I’d expected him to feel slimy and soft but the opposite was true: Dusty’s skin was moist but it certainly wasn’t slimy, and whatever lay underneath his brown exterior felt like pure muscle.
Now that I was closer, I could see his different segments and the tiny hairs that extruded from his body.
They doubtless had something to do with the way he moved so smoothly.
‘Move your hand lower,’ Lady Penelope instructed.
As I did so, Dusty grunted. I pulled back but the vampire only laughed. ‘He likes to be scratched on that spot.’
I shot her a wary glance: was she gaslighting me?
But her expression appeared honest so I reached out again and rubbed Dusty’s skin.
The thin hairs tickled as he huffed his pleasure.
Huh. This wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like stroking a cat, and I wouldn’t be swapping any of my moggies for an earthworm, but he was growing on me. Slightly.
‘Eat her, Dust,’ Thomas wheezed as he heaved himself to his feet. ‘Eat her now while you still can.’
The giant worm swung his head towards him. As my heart skipped a beat, he opened his mouth and appeared to swallow the vampire’s head. I squeaked involuntarily but Lady Penelope laughed again. Dusty pulled back.
‘He will not eat you and he is not eating Thomas,’ she said. ‘More is the pity. The worms are herbivores. This is merely a greeting – I suppose you could call it a kiss.’
My stomach turned. ‘A kiss?’ From a worm?
She shrugged elegantly. ‘Of sorts.’
Dusty’s head turned towards me. ‘He’ll chomp you whole,’ Thomas crowed.
‘He will not,’ Lady Penelope snapped. ‘Stand still, Ms McCafferty, and you’ll be absolutely fine.’
I wondered if Captain Montgomery had bothered to negotiate a guarantee of my safety whilst negotiating my presence here in the Understream.
Dusty’s huge mouth opened and smothered my face for a few seconds. I stayed where I was and managed not to recoil, though it wasn’t easy. Worm breath wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated but it certainly wasn’t roses and minty mouthwash.
‘There,’ Lady Penelope said as he withdrew. ‘Now he’s your friend, too.’
I could have happily gone an entire lifetime without invertebrate friends but here we were. I tried to smile. ‘Okay. Great. Fantastic.’
‘Serves you right,’ Thomas muttered.
I glanced at him, expecting to see hostility to match his tone of voice, but there was a twinkle in his eye.
He splayed out his hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘Yeah,’ he admitted. ‘You got me. But only because I’ve not had breakfast yet and I’m feeling sluggish.
’ He gestured to my neck. ‘Perhaps if you…’
‘No.’
He shrugged. ‘Can’t blame a guy for trying.’ He grinned as he loped towards Dusty’s midsection and unravelled a small rope ladder that he used to climb up to the seats. So vampires could smile on occasion – even after a minor assault.
‘I apologise for Thomas,’ Lady Penelope said. ‘He is new and still has a lot to learn.’
‘I’ve been a vampire for eighty years, Penny!’ he called over his shoulder.
She sniffed. ‘As I said, he is new.’ She pointed to the ladder. ‘Shall we?’
I followed her lead, went to the ladder and pulled myself up. Neither she nor Thomas offered to help me up, which gladdened me. I sat on a narrow wooden bench that formed part of the contraption strapped to Dusty’s back.
I wasn’t often out of my depth, but right here, right now, I felt the same frisson that had troubled me when I was a baby assassin. I didn’t belong here and I didn’t know what I was doing: imposter syndrome on steroids.
‘Don’t worry,’ Thomas reassured me. ‘Everyone feels like this the first time they come to the Understream.’
Damn. My expression must have given away more than I’d intended.
‘It is not her first time,’ Penelope informed him.
His brow creased then he gave me a longer, more assessing look. ‘I know who you are,’ he breathed. ‘You’re Kit McCafferty. You’re the one who killed Brassick.’ He gave a low whistle.
It was time for some damage limitation. ‘I didn’t mean to kill him,’ I said.
‘Not exactly. He was attacking my friend and me. I broke one of the shutters in his house. It was the middle of the day and the sun got in and…’ I made a moue of helplessness to suggest it had been nothing more than luck that had turned the murderous vampire to ash inside his own home.
‘I never liked the guy,’ Thomas retorted. ‘And I’m not sad he’s dead.’ He looked at Lady Penelope, whose hands were entwined primly on her lap. ‘I doubt any of us are. That’s what you get for involving yourself in a weird cult.’
‘Trust in the fang.’ The words tripped out of her mouth in an oddly practised fashion.
He nodded. ‘And the fang alone.’
I stared at them blankly. ‘Huh?’
‘It’s a vampire motto,’ Thomas explained. ‘Vampires have fangs. We should stick to our own kind or there will be trouble. Something along those lines.’
‘Vampires aren’t the only creatures with fangs,’ I cautioned.
‘It is a saying,’ Lady Penelope snapped. ‘It’s not supposed to be science.’
Fair enough.
Dusty grunted and Lady Penelope raised her thin eyebrows. ‘I would hold on if I were you.’ And before I could grab onto anything other than Thomas’s arm, the worm started to move.