Malice and Madness (The Hunter Vampire Chronicles Book 2)

by Juliet Boyd

  There was a sort of road … path, made from large stones, much bigger than cobblestones, unless you were a giant. This wasn’t giant-land. The houses weren’t that big. Could be cold-blooded land. The road seemed as good as any route to take. So, he did.

  He soon got bored of that. It was too winding. He preferred direct. Like no road, ever. He took a short cut across the fields to what looked like a farmer’s house, as there were pigs roaming around. They didn’t seem to be enclosed in any way, and they made the oddest shrieking noise he’d ever heard. He was able to shut it out.

  He found himself a suitable hiding place and settled down to watch.

  It wasn’t long before a young couple ambled up with a child in tow. They went into the house for quite some time and came out without the child, just a piglet on a lead. Strange, yes. Unbelievable? No. Kids weren’t his thing either. He didn’t understand the attraction. A pig couldn’t answer back.

  When the couple had disappeared into the distance, he approached the house. There was no sense of Malice here, but … there was definitely magic rubbing the air. He put his hand against the wall of the house and was thrown right back across the path, snagging himself on a thorn bush in the process.

  He screamed out from surprise. He heard a door open and saw a formidable woman approaching with an extraordinarily large frying pan in hand. If she was the one with the magic, he had no desire to get close up and angry with her.

  Out of there.

  Chapter 4

  Ellie could feel the tingle Flynn had described the moment they turned the corner. It felt like a massive dose of static, the kind that could raise hair and set teeth on edge. There was no sign of a storm.

  She couldn’t see any creature. Not even the haziness Flynn had mentioned. That was disturbing in itself. She hated not being prepared. Know thine enemy, or you’ll likely come unstuck.

  She signalled to Flynn for them to do a circle of the area. They walked slowly. She kept half an eye on Flynn. They found nothing. They sensed only the electrical charge. Could this creature leave residual energy? That was possible. Every living, or undead thing, had a signature, but not usually so pronounced. Most were undetectable, even by them, when caught up in the cauldron of the city.

  A creature that left such an obvious trail would have to be something with no predators, the top of the food chain. Or it was new to the area. If the latter were the case, then it wouldn’t be a creature they were looking for, so the list wouldn’t help. They had enough creatures to find without that. They didn’t need this.

  It wasn’t within her to leave it, knowing there might be danger.

  They needed more information. She waved Flynn over.

  “Tell me everything you remember, even if you feel it’s insignificant.” She sounded like she was auditioning for a cop show. “Every feeling, every scent, anything that could help us work out what this was.” That was what she needed to narrow it down.

  Before Flynn had opened her mouth, something slashed at Ellie’s thigh, with claws so sharp that her skin was ripped wide open. Her leg collapsed and she hit the ground with a thud, no time to think of breaking her fall. She only half knew that Flynn threw a bolt of magical energy at something over to her right. The pain was unbearable. She lost focus, completely.

  ###

  Blood dripped uncaringly onto Ellie’s new carpet. Flynn stared at the wound. It hadn’t healed and wasn’t showing any signs of doing so. Even a wound that deep should have begun to repair three hours after the event. It had also gone a very strange colour, tinged with green, which might’ve been a little distorted by the feeble torchlight, but was still gross. If Ellie hadn’t been a vampire, Flynn would’ve said it was hugely septic, but she wasn’t sure that was possible. It had to be some kind of poison the creature released from the tips of its claws. Pretty effective deterrent. It was the only explanation she could think of. How to counteract it?

  She thumped the floor. The sound wasn’t satisfying.

  Spells weren’t meant to be used as medicine. It was against the unwritten Code of Conduct — actually, knowing Arthur, it probably was written down. She knew she shouldn’t do it. So many things could go wrong. Ellie’s body wasn’t normal. She might make it worse without realising. And the resources. What would she need? You should always know what you were asking for before you did it, otherwise, you could do harm.

  Did she care?

  Yes, she cared.

  About both.

  Damn it.

  But there was no harm in asking for clean water and swabs, those materials were commonplace, and maybe a few bandages. She consoled herself with the fact that Rag had healed even when his foot was hanging off by a thread. But he hadn’t been unconscious at the time — she was sure he would’ve preferred that — and Ellie was. Out cold from the moment she hit the ground.

  The only good thing was that the blast of energy Flynn had thrown at the creature had lit it up in detailed relief. That strange, scruffy cat, was no normal domestic feline. It had jaws that could take something twice its size when it opened them up. Would’ve made a nice, goofy smile if it had been otherwise inclined. It was going to get something much more powerful when she went after it again. Something filled with anger.

  But first, Ellie.

  Chapter 5

  Bones snarled at the rather spindly man who stood before him, with his eyes focussed directly at him, boring into his presence. His first instinct was fight, but he held it back. He had no idea where he was, who this odd-looking man was, or how he wasn’t still beneath the water, drowning in rat hell. The last thing he remembered was changing and trying to claw his way back to the surface, and then he blanked out. Now, he was in a room that looked too much like an old-style asylum to him, with stark, white walls and thick, steel doors.

  The man walked around him nonchalantly, a non-existent pen flicking back and forwards between his thumb and finger, his droning voice a blot on the eardrums.

  “Clothes,” he pointed to a pile on the floor beside him, “have been provided. They will be your exact size. There is no doubt about that. You should put them on. It’s hardly decent what you’re wearing now, and there are the ladies to consider.”

  Ladies? He lifted his head up a little from the ground, but he wasn’t healed enough to sustain it. He felt for his neck. There was a wound there. A bite? He could stick his finger right in.

  “Sooner, rather than later,” the man continued.

  Better not to antagonise an unknown. Bones grabbed the jeans and manoeuvred himself into them whilst still lying down.

  “Better.” The man smiled, one of those smiles that unsettled things deep within you. “Marchmont’s the name. That’s Dorey. That’s Hattie. You know, we’re all mad in here. That’s why we call it the Mad House. Remember that old saying, you have to be mad to work here? Well, it’s true — not that we’re working. Oh, no, no. None of that malarkey here. There’s madness in all of us and, sometimes, all it takes is a little thing to bring it out.”

  Bones raised an eyebrow. This was going nowhere useful. “How did I get here?”

  Marchmont smiled, showing uneven teeth of various shades. “Ever heard of a cleansing pool? Well, of course you have, you’ve been in one. Trouble was, it didn’t have any effect on you. Couldn’t do its job. Cleansing pools are powerful, but you’re a tough case. We’re all tough cases. If it doesn’t have any effect upon you, you end up here.” He lowered his voice and leaned in close to Bones, like some freaky, quadruple-jointed sideshow act. “Join the club.”

  Bones squirmed. His space was being severely violated.

  “You get used to it, you know. Everything goes round in circles. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. There isn’t much more to life here. Some would say that might send you mad in itself. I’d beg to differ. Can’t get madder than you already are. Anyway, just came by to welcome you. Oh, by the way, there are no locks on the doors, so when you return to the land of the vicariously living,” he waved a hand in the air, “com
e and join us. We’d love to experience you.”

  Marchmont promptly left with his companions. Silence at last. The bliss of solitude.

  It was going to be a while before his body healed enough for him to want to get up. It was going to be a while before he’d processed anything of what he’d just been told.

  Chapter 6

  “Stop right there.”

  Rag turned, his hackles already up, fangs descended, eyes a deadly pool of black. He’d been creeping through woodland, very strange woodland, with plants that looked as if they shouldn’t have been able to exist, given their top-heavy nature, specifically so no one saw him. He hadn’t expected any kind of voice at all, so for someone to address him so directly was a shock that shouldn’t have happened.

  Before him was a strange-looking creature. He’d heard of multiple heads, unusual amounts of arms, but a whole rack of exposed, bulging stomachs, sandwiched between a very human head and legs, that was unusual and, quite frankly, disgusting. The creature … person only wore a pair of shorts, so all was exposed for everyone’s viewing pleasure. There was a constant stream of smoke filtering out from the top of his head, a bit like a blow hole on a whale. The smoke had a sweetish smell, like crushed strawberries mixed with mown grass. It made him think of summer. It invoked a sense of drowsiness.

  Rag said nothing, but his body relaxed back to human.

  “Are you mute? Or just dumb?”

  Life. Hands. Own.

  Rag took a step forward and crossed his arms. “I’m neither.”

  “Ah, the gift of speech is so delightful. Can you say anything else? I do like speaking to people, but for some reason, they’re not all that keen on speaking to me. It could be that they’re just bored with me knowing everything. It’s such a burden, but also a gift. Ask me something. Anything. I’ll oblige, most certainly.”

  The creature grinned. An extra large puff of smoke joined the atmosphere around them. Rag blinked the wooziness away, as best he could. He felt as if his feet weren’t properly on the ground.

  Which was probably why he did ask the question.

  “I’m looking for Malice. Do you know where she is? I think she came down … here. Wherever that is.”

  “Wherever that is? This is the Underland, my dear fellow. Where the Underhand live.” The creature giggled. “Malice, yes, I know her. Who doesn’t? Who doesn’t want to? My, oh my, she’s a chip off the old heart. She has that familiar with her all the time. The Caterwail — all bite no sense, they are. I forget what she calls it. Ginger. Bernard. Smiles. Something like that. She crossed the woodland some time past. Moments. Minutes. Hours. Who knows? Time is but a construct with no real basis in a truthful universe. She was alone. Yes. Looked as if she were trying to get—,” A lascivious smile crossed the creature’s face. “Tell me, what is this information worth to you, raging man from the hidden side?”

  Rag frowned and took a step back, although he couldn’t imagine the creature would be able to move quickly. Unless it had retractable legs the length of its body. The thought distracted him. He shook the image out of his head. “Worth? I have no money.”

  “Money? No, no, no. Everything has a worth. A worth is as good as a coin, you know. I’d much rather have a worth than money. Money is so passé. So, what’s its worth?”

  Rag flashed his eyes black. “It’s worth me not killing you.”

  The creature gasped. “Oh my. Now, that is a worth. I’m all a flutter.” He rubbed at his bellies, jellies all. Rag kicked back his gag reflex, again. “She passed this way not one backwards hour past. She lives in the Darklight Valley, just over there.”

  Rag looked where the creature pointed.

  “It’s further than it looks, but then everything is around here. Bon voyage.”

  Rag turned back to the creature, with a vague idea of thanking him, mixed with a stronger idea of draining his blood so he couldn’t be that annoying to anyone else, but he was gone.

  The Darklight Valley. The name didn’t fill him with joy.

  Chapter 7

  The pain was unbearable. Ellie’s body clearly wasn’t healing. Inside it felt like a mass of writhing snakes, a pit of man-eating spiders, a vat of boiling entrails. Consciousness was a tenuous thread that flipped in and out of existence to varying degrees and didn’t allow her any form of communication. Not even an eye flicker. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Becoming a vampire was supposed to have saved her life, even though it hadn’t been her choice, and now she felt as if she were dying all over again.

  Some of the time she could sense Flynn tending to her — the energy of spells was all around her, but not within her and in her own unconscious blathering mind, that pleased her — the rest of the time, she was in a world of her own.

  Not exactly her own.

  She was sitting in a dark room, her on one chair, the albino man with the twitchy nose on the other. He called himself Brite. He was dressed head-to-toe in white. He was annoying beyond belief, but he was a distraction. She needed a distraction. It was strange what the mind conjured up when you were in need of relief from reality. His voice was thin and high-pitched, and there was an urgency to his words.

  “So, you’ve never heard of your self-healing persona? Oh, that is a worry. I’ve always been here, you know, even when you weren’t … well, wasn’t that a palaver, had me all a jitter it did. Didn’t know whether I was coming or going, and when she … No, let’s not go there. Anyway, it’s been lonely these past few months. You haven’t called upon me once. Do you know how that feels? Not good. It was as if I’d been abandoned. A life without purpose and all the time in the world to live it. It’s almost as bad as, well, you know. This is so much better.”

  “You’re happy that I’m injured?”

  Brite screwed up his face. “Happy? No, that’s the wrong word. I’m … fulfilled. Yes, that’s it. I have a purpose again. I’m not clock-watching because there’s nothing to do. Have you ever had that? When the day drags out so long and you keep checking the time?”

  He took out an old-fashioned pocket watch and looked at it.

  “See, the first time in … five hours.”

  He grinned as he put the watch away.

  He was far too upbeat for her current mood.

  She stood up and tried to walk. Her leg gave way. Even in her sub-conscious? That was mean.

  “Now, now. You can’t walk here if you can’t walk there. You need to heal first, and that’s what we’re doing.”

  Ellie slumped down in the chair again. A shooting pain travelled the length of her body. She gritted her teeth. Brite frowned at her and shook his head.

  “How exactly does this work?”

  “Well, it’s hard to explain, but you have to believe yourself better. That’s what self-healing is in a nutshell. You can use all sorts of bits and bobs to concentrate your mind, if you’re conscious that is, but they’re not necessary. Only you have the power to heal yourself. Well, you and me, but I’m just a timeless figment, a wisp of white in the grey matter, a—”

  “You’re saying I have to think myself better?”

  “Yes, that’s it. And I’m here to guide you, not help. I can’t help. Now, clear your mind of everything else and think healing thoughts. Time will fly, I’m telling you. It’s such a wonderful experience.”

  Ellie tried. All she could think of was Flynn and the cat. The cat, mostly, and whether it was on the list, and what were its powers, and—.

  “Okay. That’s not good. Let me focus your mind. That, I can manage.”

  He stood up, his hands held out.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll just place my hands here, on the sides of your head. It’s a little like those bits and bobs I was talking about. It’ll help you to concentrate. Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you and I can’t think for you. Oh, dear no. But we’re all about saving time. Your time here. Your life.”

  The touch of his hands was like ten thousand volts blasting through her brain.
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  ###

  It was the middle of the night when Ellie began to stir. Nearly a day had gone by. Flynn had bitten her nails to the quick six times and was well on her way to a seventh.

  Flynn lifted Ellie’s head onto her lap and stroked her hair. She was out of ideas. She’d done everything she possibly could. She’d even tried a healing spell, but it didn’t work. One thing she now knew. She definitely couldn’t heal vampires.

  The wound was completely covered in the green fungus-like substance. It hadn’t expanded across the rest of the skin, but it was entrenched. She’d tried pulling it out, but it wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want to try too hard in case she did further damage, like pulled all the innards out with it.

  “Can you hear me?” she said.

  Ellie’s eyelids fluttered a little, but didn’t open. That had to be a good sign.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  A faint mumble dribbled from Ellie’s lips. “Focus.”

  Flynn had no idea what that meant.

  Chapter 8

  The Darklight Valley was the most unpleasant place Rag had ever had the displeasure to visit. Darklight because it was consistently dark throughout, he imagined, with an eerie glow that seemed to follow you around, so you could never see further than an arms-length away — a bit like faint lamplight, but with no lamps. The atmosphere was damp, without there being any rain or mist, and the ground gave way beneath you with every step, as if it were trying to suck you down into the soil. Why anyone would want to live here, he couldn’t imagine. Why he was still continuing on this journey, he had no idea. Except, that he didn’t know how to get out of this Underland, and he might as well be doing something useful, rather than sitting around admiring the view, which he wouldn’t be able to do for much longer, seeing as he hadn’t brought a large supply of tablets with him.

  He walked on, getting deeper and deeper into the valley, and further and further away from relative safety.