She stopped and turned to gaze at me. ‘Hmm.’
‘Hmm,’ I echoed and smiled again.
Having concluded that I was an idiot, Lady Penelope moved on. Excellent. This was already working far better than I’d anticipated.
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 metresbefore 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 ofgrinning 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?’
