Malevolent (The Puzzle Box Series Book 1)

by K. M. Carroll

  Mal glanced at me, and his eyes were green-brown, more human than usual. "I suggest you pursue a relationship with someone more stable than my brother. He is a vampire."

  No, no, no, I didn't want the conversation to go this way. This was too much information--why had I asked about this? I struggled to find a reasonable middle ground--Robert bummed me for cash and food all the time. "In the metaphorical sense?"

  "No. Literally."

  I forced a laugh. "But vampires aren't real."

  "Then why did you ask what I am?"

  The question was sharp as a nail, pinning down my flippancy. I fidgeted with my braid. "Are you?"

  "No."

  "But you're something!"

  "Yes."

  That was as far as I dared go. I gulped and backed away one step, then another. My free hand dove into my pocket for my knife. "Um, I'm gonna go now."

  I expected him to demand that I stay, and maybe get violent. Instead, Mal lifted a hand. "Farewell."

  I alternated between a jog and a fast walk all the way home. Suki ran beside me, sensing my unease.

  What had happened back there? What had started off as a joke about vampires turned dark and serious. Had I offended him? I anxiously sorted through my impressions of the conversation. No, he wasn't offended, so much as ... angry. That was it, he'd been angry. The short, clipped phrases, the way he pressed his lips together. But he wasn't mad until we started talking about Robert.

  I walked faster and faster until I was almost jogging. Robert, feeding on me with kisses? Kissing other girls at school? But he'd never bitten me--well, not in the neck. He'd nibbled my lips a few times, but never enough to draw blood. How could he be a vampire, then?

  Various books opened in my memory with the answers. Maybe he fed on the soul, or life essence. Vampires could feed on anything, depending on what kind they were.

  But who was I kidding? This was real life. There was no such thing as vampires.

  I stopped halfway through the almond orchard and looked back. No sign of Mal or anyone else. Just trees, bare branches, and scattered early blooms in the watery spring sunlight.

  If Robert wasn't a vampire, why did Mal admit to being ... something?

  It chilled me as if all the valley's fog had settled in my marrow.

  "God," I said aloud, "what should I do about Robert?"

  Silence. God refused to speak to me any more about Robert. I knew it was because he wasn't a believer, and God already said to not be unequally yoked and all that. Kind of like a parent saying, "What have I already told you?"

  But what if God disapproved of the vampire thing, too? Wouldn't He warn me? Unless that was why Mal had showed up.

  "So," I continued, "what about Mal?"

  Immediately a thought slipped into my head. "Jars of clay." I pulled out my smart phone, opened the Bible app, and hunted down the verse.

  However, we possess this precious treasure in frail vessels of earth, that the grandeur and exceeding greatness of the power may be shown to be from God and not from ourselves.

  I read it over and over, becoming more blown away each time. Mal was an earthen vessel full of treasure? What, was he a Christian? Was that what he'd been trying to say?

  It felt like my brain was having thoughts too big for it. I avoided the house and headed toward the blueberry field.

  The blueberries grew in rows taller than me, four acres of them. Their dark green foliage was sprinkled with pink buds. The bees would have more than almonds to worry about, come March or April.

  But thinking about bees made me think about Mal, and where he was concerned, my brain had exploded. How could I even bring it up? "Hey Mal, I asked God about you, and he said you were treasure in a clay jar. What's it mean?"

  Instead I walked--skipped, actually--down a row between blueberry hedges and stroked the silky buds. Suki ran in and out of the hedges, sniffing the ground.

  Here I had this cool verse about Mal, and deafening silence about Robert. My exploded brain pulled itself together, and I stopped skipping. Divine silence scares me. I knew I shouldn't have dated Robert, but geez.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, and exhaled violently.

  Robert had texted, "Hey babe, I'm at your house. Where are you?"

  Panic clawed my chest, and I had trouble breathing for a second. Not Robert! I wasn't ready to talk to him yet!

  I paced along the rows with Suki, and tried to calm down. Besides God's silence, bits of Mal's conversation floated through my head. He's a vampire ... disguises his feeding with kisses ... kissed a girl's hand at school ...

  My religious uneasiness, and months of irritation with Robert, boiled into rage. I was breaking up with him today. Now.

  I texted, "I'm in the blueberries." It was like issuing a challenge on the field of battle.

  A few minutes later, Suki laid her ears back and growled. I rested a hand on her head. "Shush, girl."

  Robert strode through the hedges toward us, smiling his perfect, stupidly handsome smile. The sun caressed his healthy face. How could he possibly be a vampire? In all the books, sunlight was their weakness. Unless he ate souls.

  "Hey Libby! I got the job!"

  Oh yeah, he'd been trying to get a new job, hadn't he? I drew a blank at the business in question. It was so majorly mundane after the supernatural stuff. I summoned polite cheerfulness. "Awesome! Where is it?"

  "The Walmart by the highway. I'm starting as a greeter, and I get to run down shoplifters." His grin widened.

  I inspected his canines for abnormal sharpness, but his teeth looked human. "Great. Uh, can we talk?"

  "Sure, what about?"

  He was so stinking good-natured. This would be harder than I thought. I ambled down the field, and he fell into step beside me. Suki stayed on my other side, head and tail down like an uneasy sheepdog guarding her charge.

  I drew a deep, deep breath into gloriously clear lungs. It steadied me for the plunge. "I heard you cheated on me."

  Robert laughed. "Cheated on you! Who told you that?"

  "Did you?"

  He snorted and waved a hand. "No. You're the only girl for me, Lib. You know that."

  "You weren't kissing girls' hands yesterday at lunch?"

  His smile vanished. "How did you know that?"

  "So you were." I didn't dare ask about the vampire thing. This was hard enough. Guilt gnawed at my stomach.

  Rob licked his lips, as if thinking of what to say. "It wasn't what you think. I was doing the whole gentleman thing, you know? Accent, bowing, kissing their hands..."

  I had momentum now. My rage at him built higher. "It's because I've been sick, isn't it? You need somebody else to hang out with."

  "No, really, Lib. I was just playing." He gave me that pleading look, and his voice rose toward a whine. Usually it was enough to get his way, but not today.

  I clenched my fists to hide my shaking hands. "It's time for us to go our separate ways, Rob."

  His mouth dropped open. "No! I wasn't serious, I mean--"

  "Rob. It's too hard on me to keep this relationship going." That was the truth and a half. Our relationship was poisoning me--literally. "And it's no fun for you, either."

  He stopped and faced me, and gripped my shoulders. "You really want this, don't you? You've been planning to break up for a long time." His eyes were blue as ice, and full of pain.

  I nodded and tried not to wince. I despise having to confront people and hurt them--plus, his grip pinched.

  But as he gazed at me, his eyes widened in realization. "You're better. How are you--?" Then he stiffened and sucked in a breath through his teeth. His fingers slid down my shoulders and dug into my arms, and suddenly he was a fearsome stranger. "Did you eat Mal's honey?"

  I nodded and tried to twist out of his grip. But he held on, pupils dilated, teeth bared. My adrenaline was already pumping, so I lashed out at him with one foot. He danced backward and let go of me. I pulled out my lockblade. "Don't touch me again or I'll stake y
ou with cold steel."

  Our altercation alerted Suki. She barked and pushed between us, growling, teeth bared.

  Robert retreated, rubbing his hair with both hands. His mouth twisted into an ugly shape, then slowly gave way to a smirk. "I guess that's it for you and me, then."

  "Yep." I'd never seen him without his friendly mask before--I'd never realized it was a mask at all. Yeah, this breakup was long overdue.

  He bowed. "I shall take your leave, my lady. May we meet again some day on friendlier terms." He snatched my hand and bit me.

  I shrieked and yanked my hand away, while aiming an inexpert slash at him with my knife. I missed. Suki barked and attacked Rob's leg. But he laughed and ran off, with Suki at his heels. He was so fast, he outpaced her and left her behind.

  I stared. Humans couldn't outrun dogs. What was he, an Olympic athlete or ...

  ... or a vampire?

  His teeth had left a red oval on the back of my hand that oozed red. I swore and stomped toward the house. My stomp turned to a wobble before I reached the back gate. My newfound energy drained away, and my body turned back to a weak flabby mass. The sunlight lost its warmth, and cold soaked through me like I'd fallen in a frozen pond.

  I dragged inside and collapsed on the living room couch. As I lay there, uncanny fear raced through me in shivery waves. Mal said Rob was a vampire--then Robert bit me. What in the heck was I supposed to do now? Was I infected, and that was why the meds weren't working?

  Thank God for Mom. She spotted me there on the couch, cleaned and bandaged my hand, and listened to my breakup tale. I left out the vampire theory, but it hovered at the tip of my tongue.

  Suki planted herself beside the couch and never left. She lay with her ears pricked, and scanned all the doors. Even if humans didn't believe in vampires, dogs did.

  Mom said, "Suki, if Robert comes back, bite him."

  Suki thumped her tail on the carpet.

  Illness clutched my stomach. My bones ached and weakness rolled over me in waves. I took my pills, but they didn't help.

  "You overdid it today," Mom observed. "Breaking up takes it out of you. I'm proud of you, though. It sounds like you handled it very well."

  "I was fine until he bit me." I waffled--should I tell her, or not? Finally I figured that it couldn't hurt. "I think he's a vampire."

  Mom chuckled sadly and poured me a cup of tea.

  "Seriously, Mom."

  "Libby, come on. You've read too much Anne Rice."

  Of course she didn't believe me. I wasn't sure I believed me. I sipped my tea, curled up on the couch, as Mom cooked dinner. There had been such fury in Robert's eyes. And he outran Suki with the same weird speed that Mal had used when unloading the beehives.

  Crap, crap, crap. I've been bitten by a vampire. What went through my mind wasn't so much vampire novels as the ending of Old Yeller, when the rabid dog attacked the walls of his pen. I might turn into a monster ... and not a gorgeous sexy creature of the night.

  But I'd been sick ever since we started dating. He must have bitten me other times. Various incidents sprang to mind--like the time I'd cut myself trying to open a new pair of headphones, and he'd licked the blood off my arm. He'd always laughed and I had been grossed out. But that was Robert, always playing around. I never thought he might be, you know ... feeding.

  Suddenly Mal's assault on Robert made a lot of sense. Mal knew what Robert had done to me, and was trying to stop him. Then when Robert noticed I was better, he got angry.

  Impotent fury welled up inside me. Robert wanted me to stay sick? He had always acted so sorry for me--then I got well, and he made sure to chomp my hand. Wham, I was sick and he was happy.

  Would Mal give me more honey? He didn't have much, but maybe he could spare a tiny bit more. If only I'd taken the vampire thing more seriously--but I still would have broken up with Robert. And he still would have taken his revenge on me.

  Dinner interrupted my thoughts--beef stew. It smelled great, but I could barely drink the broth without gagging.

  Dad devoured three bowls of stew and most of a loaf of French bread. As he ate, he said, "Had some trouble with the bees today. Some idiot soaked the bee station hives in Raid."

  The spoon clattered from my fingers. "What?"

  "Yeah, the beekeepers are hot. They're having to move the colonies to new boxes tonight. They can't afford to lose any more bees. Colony collapse disorder is bad enough without some fool pulling this garbage."

  I stared at the wall. Robert's savage expression ... no, he wouldn't, would he? Was it retaliation for Mal healing me?

  "Do they know who did it?" Mom asked.

  Dad shrugged. "Malachi, our local brawler, caught the vandal and drove him off. Maybe having him around isn't such a bad thing. He claimed he couldn't identify the guy."

  Robert had been lurking around, angry that I had dumped him ... so he attacked the bees, forcing Mal to fight him again. My heart hurt. No way would Mal want anything to do with me after this. But I had to apologize. Gosh, it was all I could do.

  I excused myself and went to bed. My dreams were confused nonsense about Robert's snarling teeth, and bees that screamed like women.

  Mal

  When Robert attacked the hives that afternoon, my bees came and found me at my camper.

  I was kneeling in the sun with the orchard bee blocks arranged in rows, where I could examine the mud caps upon their holes, when three worker bees landed on my shoulder.

  "Mal, danger!" they sang in discordant chaos. "Our queens are in danger!"

  I am unable to feel most positive emotions, but negative ones are amplified tenfold. Therefore when fear struck, it was like being impaled by a spear. Danger to my bees! Only two people would deliberately harm them. I licked dry lips and whispered, "Is it He Whom I Fear?"

  "No! It is the life feeder!"

  Robert. My fear waned and became fury.

  I pulled a protective tarpaulin over the orchard bees, then called on my supernatural speed to sprint through the orchard to the bee station.

  The sweet stench of Raid struck my nostrils. The air was full of bees--my own and the commercial hives, and all were crying out in distress.

  Robert strode among the hives, wielding his poison like a flamethrower as he soaked the hive entrances. He was laughing.

  I struck him with the force of a speeding car. He flew through the air, cleared several almond trees, and crashed through the branches of several more. The can of poison rolled away into the weeds.

  Before he hit the ground, I blacked his eyes, bloodied his nose and attempted to relieve him of his front teeth. "Don't ever touch my bees!"

  He twisted away to protect his face, rolled to the ground and returned my blows. "You cost me Libby!"

  I backed away a few steps, fists and teeth clenched. "What?"

  He crouched and scowled at me with an expression of pure hatred. "You fed her lies and honey, didn't you? You made her well--and she dumped me because of you!" He leaped from the ground like a cat, eight feet in the air, and attempted to land feet-first on my face.

  I sidestepped, seized one of his legs in midair, and jerked it upward in an attempt to dislocate his knee. He bellowed in pain, landed on one foot, and his fists struck my face. I caught one wrist and slowly twisted it. I also took the opportunity to laugh--a cruel, twisted expression of my disdain. "She did well to rid herself of you, leech. If my bees die and my heart stops, you will be the first victim I chain to my will."

  He snarled and punched me in the stomach. "Try it."

  I lost my hold on his other wrist and the battle continued. While neither of us could kill the other by force alone, we could certainly sully the other's appearance. By the time the brute fled, our blood spattered the ground, and my mouth was full of it.

  I returned to my bees, limping and spitting mouthfuls of crimson. My bruised hands had trouble opening the hives. I should not have attacked him--my suffering bees were more important. How many hives had he already cost me?
>
  My bees were sick, their songs a cacophony of confusion and noise. They stung me in their panic. But I hummed to them. "Please, friends, remain in the hives. Do not cross the threshold. I will move you to new housing." But the stench of the poison made my bruised stomach roll, and fear made my movements slow and clumsy.

  I retrieved a fresh box from a stack of extras, and transferred the frames to them, queen first. They clung to their home, trusting me to save them.

  Every beat of my heart was fresh pain, and not from the fight. My bees, my friends, were dying. Already their bodies littered the pavement: crawling, kicking, suffering. I threw the poisoned boxes into the orchard and spread clean earth over the toxic spots on the cement.

  Mr. Stockton drove up in a golf cart. He regarded my actions, then climbed out. "What's wrong?"

  "A vandal with Raid. Call the other beekeepers. They must move their bees before it's too late."

  Mr. Stockton blanched--he had paid thousands of dollars for these bees, and without them, he had no almond crop. He retrieved his mobile phone and began making calls.

  The other beekeepers converged on the area, and we worked long past sundown. We replaced half the hives, and we removed the new hives from the affected area. They all noticed the damage to my face, and asked me who the vandal had been. I only replied that I had driven him off, and that he now looked worse than I did.

  Clouds rolled in from the ocean, laden with water. They poured their contents into the valley and onto the surrounding mountains, and helped to rinse away the poison.

  The other men sought their warm beds, but I remained out in the wet and darkness until my bees were settled in their new hives.

  My damaged body had begun to stiffen. Pain nagged at my joints. I limped back to my camper and climbed inside. There I opened a container of salve I had made from the wax of my bees, and dabbed it on my injuries. As it touched my skin, the life motes stored in it blazed to life, turning the salve a glowing gold. The death motes within me drew the life inside, repairing and healing me. It was a delicate balance--life and death, sickness and health, furious energy and quiet serenity.

  I pleaded with God for two hours to spare my bees. Another prayer lingered beneath this one that I dared not utter.