Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Ihadn’t entertained the thought for even a second that Penelope might still be alive – or at least undead.
The moment I’d seen her throat in the maze monster’s jaws, I’d assumed that was the end of her.
Thomas had appeared to believe the same.
And yet here she was, still conscious, still breathing and still very much undead.
She was in the corner of the room with heavy chains wrapped around her, which I imagined the monster had pilfered from one of Chester Longchamps’ and Alan Vennington’s sacrifices. She was leaning her head against the wall and her eyes were closed, but her chest was rising and falling regularly.
Another witchlight glowed in the opposite corner, casting an eerie glow around the large space. I frowned at the magicked bottle before averting my gaze from it and Penelope to look at the rest of the room. Doubtless this was the centre of the maze where the monster lived.
There was a raised area on one side; to call it a bed would have been overly generous, but I was certain it was where the monster slept.
The shelves on another wall were littered with an astonishing amount of detritus, some of which was coated in thick dust and had clearly been there for decades.
Some items were newer, but as far as I could tell they were little more than discarded rubbish that the monster must have picked up as it scoured the Understream for people to kill.
Behind me She Without An Ear released a low growl. She was right: this wasn’t the time to critique a monster’s talent for interior design. It was only a matter of time before the creature arrived. I had to act – and act quickly.
As I slid through the gap, I noticed a few snagged clumps of silver fur caught in the hewn-out stone. I ignored them for now; whether the Maine Coon was friend or foe wasn’t clear but he wasn’t my concern. My worry was Penelope.
Once inside the room, I darted towards her. She stirred and murmured something inaudible as some part of her brain registered my appearance. Her eyes flickered open and she stared at me.
Her bright-red eyes were now dull and partly glazed over as she stared at the two cats that were approaching her. The iron scent of blood clung to the air and when her hair fell back I saw the vicious wound on her throat. She was weak and barely conscious. That would be problematic.
‘Mmmm.’ She paused. ‘Uhhhhnnn.’
Uh-huh. That was along the same lines as what I was thinking. As I considered what to do next, She Without An Ear padded forward and delicately sniffed Penelope’s pale fingers.
I moved. I couldn’t help her or fight the monster in this body and I had to prepare. I was vulnerable during the precious seconds of transformation so I needed to shift while it was still safe to do so.
I hawked up the furball. It was a far easier transformation than it had been from the Maine Coon’s body but nevertheless it hurt. I writhed and spasmed in pain for several seconds before spinning in the air and collapsing onto the ground with a thud. Ugh. It never got any easier.
As She Without An Ear miaowed, the sound penetrated my pain-dulled brain. I shook myself and stood up; at least the recovery time was fast. I patted my hair and checked my clothes. Everything I needed was still there. I nodded decisively. I could do this.
I strode towards Penelope and crouched down. ‘Hey,’ I said softly.
She grunted and blinked when I touched her bare arm. Her skin felt like ice. I hissed under my breath and addressed her again. ‘Penelope, it’s me. It’s Kit.’
‘Uhhhhn.’
‘I’ll unchain you. Give me a moment.’
She lifted her hand and brushed it against my cheek; at least on some level she was aware of what was happening. That was good. I set to work.
The chains weren’t padlocked and it was relatively simple to unloop them and free her. What was harder was getting her up to her feet because although she weighed next to nothing, her body was like a bag of wet sand. Almost all the life had been drained out of her.
She Without An Ear pawed at a patch of congealed blood on the ground beside us. I glanced down and noted it. It served to harden my resolve to get Penelope out of here safely.
I looped her right arm around my neck and wrapped my left arm around her waist. She was cumbersome but I wasn’t moving her far.
I half-dragged, half-carried her to the most sheltered spot in the room: the monster’s bed.
As much as I wanted to get her out of the room as quickly as possible, it wasn’t feasible.
This was still a maze, and any attempt to leave would likely result in us walking smack-bang into the monster as it returned.
I desperately wanted to help Penelope – but I had to deal with the monster first.
I ushered She Without An Ear into the corner and indicated that she wasn’t to move unless there was no other choice. She sniffed imperiously but I knew she understood.
Once I’d made Penelope as comfortable as I could, I moved the witchlight a metre to the right to create a pocket of shadow in the far corner. No doubt the monster could see perfectly well in the dark but if I stayed absolutely still it might not notice me until it was too late.
Next I pulled out the object I’d stuffed in my waistband earlier, the one weapon I thought would work.
If I was right, the monster was a vampire, a very old vampire to be sure, but nevertheless a vampire.
And if that was true, then my best shot would be a wooden stake.
If I could muster enough force to slam it into the monster’s heart, maybe I could defeat it.
As I held it tightly and twisted it in my hands, a measure of my tension ebbed away. I drew back and waited. It wouldn’t be long, of that much I was certain.
My first indication that the monster was approaching came from She Without An Ear. Curled next to Penelope’s feet, she suddenly stirred then her eyes flew open and glinted a warning.
I didn’t move a muscle. My only real advantage was the element of surprise and I couldn’t risk losing it. Fortunately I’d been in the position of waiting for a target to arrive many times before. This was what I knew. This was what I was good at.
Less than a minute later I heard a snuffling grunt, then another. Heavy footsteps shuffled along one of the maze corridors to the right of the doorway. It was coming.
I glanced at Penelope: if she was conscious, she was giving no indication of it. I met She Without An Ear’s eyes – then the hulking form of the vampires’ worst nightmare appeared in the doorway. Damn: up close it was extraordinarily intimidating.
It wheezed and the odour of rotting flesh tickled my nostrils.
As far as I could tell, it wasn’t carrying anything.
I focused again on its bare chest and the leathery orange skin that covered its sinewy muscles and protruding bones.
Its eyes were bulbous and watery; a few clumps of matted dark hair were attached to its skull.
It stepped into the room and rumbled a faint snarl as it gazed at the empty chains. When Penelope moaned, it swung towards her with surprising speed and reached out one long, clawed hand. I glimpsed ragged, thick fingernails and shuddered.
In an ideal world, I’d have acted immediately but the angle was wrong.
I knew that any move I made would give the monster too much time to react because it would see me in its peripheral vision.
I had to be sure I’d succeed before I made my move.
All I needed was for it to turn another two inches to its left and I’d have it – but waiting meant risking Penelope’s well-being.
I clenched my jaw as my tension grew. She Without An Ear had been sensible enough to position herself behind Penelope’s body but the monster would soon spot her. I exhaled – and that was nearly my undoing.
Abandoning its advance on Penelope, the monster whirled around. It saw me immediately and its glittering eyes narrowed. I saw the glimmer of scarlet ringing fathomless black pupils and then it roared and threw itself at me.
I ducked to avoid the first punishing blow and felt the air shift above my head, then I straightened, raised my hand and thrust the stake forward with all the weight and power I could muster.
When I realised that I wouldn’t hit my mark, I drew back at the last moment.
I couldn’t risk losing my best form of attack by hitting the wrong spot.
The stake had to slam through the bastard’s heart otherwise I’d fail and we’d all die.
The monster snarled and came at me again. This time it was a double-pronged attack, two punches in quick succession followed by a sharp kick. I avoided the clenched fists but there was nothing I could do about the foot. It slammed into my side and sent me reeling against the wall.
I hit one of the rickety shelves and several objects scattered to the ground. I was dimly aware of She Without An Ear yowling in outrage on my behalf but I was too winded to react. The force of that kick had been brutal.
I tried to stagger up because the next blow could take my head off, but my legs wouldn’t obey my instructions. I raised myself to one knee but the pain rippling through my body was too great for me to achieve anything else. Shit. This wasn’t good.
I focused. I was still holding the stake so there was hope. While the monster roared with guttural, bloody delight, I prepared. I could do this. It would swing at me again and that would be my best chance.
It came closer and closer. One step. Two steps. I held my breath. The pain from the kick was already lessening and my mind was clearing of its temporary fog. I adjusted my grip on the stake by a fraction. I could slam it upwards. It would work. I could…
The monster whirled away from me and I hissed, confused by its sudden spin. As soon as I heard the sharp cry, I knew why it had moved. It was Eric, that stupid, stupid thrall.
‘For my Lord Chester!’ he shrieked.