Slaying Monsters for the Feeble - Annette Marie Page 0,34

at the hole’s edge, turned, and felt for the first rung with my oversized rubber boot. The chute’s sides scraped at my elbows as I fumbled my way down the ladder. The cramped confines opened into a wider tunnel, and I felt around with my foot, searching for the next rung.

“You’re on the last step.” Drew appeared beside me, his headlamp glaring. “Here.”

The telekinetic lifted me down the final four feet. My boots splashed into knee-deep water. It rushed past, pressing coldly against my waterproof overalls. The air was disgustingly humid and reeked of rot. Zora’s boots appeared on the ladder rungs above my head and I waded out of the way.

The team stood a few yards down, waiting calmly. The tunnel was six feet high and almost as wide, and only Darren and Cameron had to duck their heads.

“Okay!” Zora called above the black water’s deafening echo. “We’re heading northwest from here. Blood trackers out!”

Each mythic pulled out a wand with a red stone on the end. They spoke the incantation, their words lost in the splashing clamor, and the end of each artifact lit with a faint glow. Was I supposed to have one of those?

Zora answered my unspoken question by holding out a spare, the end already lit with magic. “Gotcha covered, Robin. Cameron, you have the gas meter, so take the lead.”

Cameron grinned at his team and splashed away from the chute. My chest constricted as I fell into step beside Zora, last in line.

What on earth was I, a bookworm who didn’t practice magic, doing down here?

We followed the tunnel, water pushing on the backs of our legs. I was here because Amalia and I needed to find out why vampires were searching for Uncle Jack. While I tackled the “bloodsucking monsters” angle, she was searching for her father the old-fashioned way—by asking everyone who knew him for information. I wished we could switch jobs.

“So,” Darren began, raising his voice above the water’s clamor. He glanced back at me. “How many vampires have you tagged, Robin?”

“Three.”

He hesitated. He’d probably expected me to say none. “I suppose it isn’t difficult for a contractor. All you have to do is stand there while your demon does all the work.”

Darren had no idea how right he was.

“Vampire hunting is a bit different when you have to get your hands dirty. Ever been bitten, Robin?”

“No.” I glanced at Zora. “Wouldn’t I turn into a vampire?”

“A bite increases the risk of infection,” she said. “As long as you get to a healer fast enough, the infection rate is less than one percent.”

“Assuming you survive long enough to reach a healer,” Darren called back. “A bite will put you down like a shot of horse tranquilizer. Once a vamp starts sucking on you, you can’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

I cringed fearfully.

“Oh,” he added, “and unlike shifters, there’s no spell, potion, or exorcism that can save you if you do get infected.”

“Thanks, Darren.” Zora adjusted her sword hilt. “I love when teammates bolster each other’s confidence. I’ll remember it next time I put together a job.”

He shot an alarmed look over his shoulder.

“Let’s stay focused,” she called to the group. “Echoes carry far in here and we don’t want to tip off the nest—if there is one.”

I looked down at my blood tracker, but the faint red glow hadn’t brightened. No sign of trouble yet.

Our headlamps flickered and flashed across the tunnel in dizzying patterns as we sloshed downstream. Small pipes connected with the main tunnel at regular intervals, disgorging frothing spouts riddled with leaves, mud, and bits of garbage. The water level crept over my knees.

“Heads up,” Laetitia called back.

I looked up and my light beam hit the tunnel’s slimy ceiling. A swarm of two- and three-inch-long cockroaches scuttled away from the light. Shuddering, I sloshed faster.

The tunnel gradually widened as more pipes connected to it, dumping runoff into the system. My breath puffed from exertion and foul air coated my mouth. Was it my imagination, or was the current picking up?

“Okay!” Zora called just loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. We clustered around her. “A hundred yards farther along, this tunnel empties into the main channel, and that’s where we’ve found nests in the past. Laetitia, you have our safety line?”

The tall hydromage pulled a coil of climbing rope from under her overalls, the end clinking with a dozen heavy carabiner clips.

“Good. We’ll approach the end of this tunnel with caution. If our blood trackers light, that’s