Read Online Malevolent (The Puzzle Box Series Book 1) by K.M. Carroll - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: K.M. Carroll
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bombarded by cosmic radiation?"
Where was he going with this? "Yeah. It causes clouds to form, doesn't it?"
He raised an approving eyebrow. "Yes. Very good. What science has not discovered is that a secondary particle accompanies the rays. I call them life motes, but I do not fully understand them. They are absorbed and metabolized by plants, and ingested by animals."
"Life motes?" My turn to raise an eyebrow. "Is this going to be a discussion about chi?"
He almost-smiled again. "No. It is difficult to harness the power in the motes, but various people have found ways. Motes respond to observation and interaction. Some call them magic."
"Whoa, whoa." I held up both hands. "You're not going to tell me that your bees harvest magic and make honey out of it." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. We'd gone from the supernatural I could believe to the supernatural I couldn't.
But he simply fixed me with his strange eyes. "It made you well, did it not?"
"Sure, but honey has nutrients and stuff. You told me, yourself."
He turned away and watched the raindrops splatter on the cart's hood.
I waited for him to respond. The longer he sat there, the more I had time to think about what I'd said. My knee-jerk reaction hurt his feelings. And what if he was right? Science was always finding new particles. Was it so hard to believe there were life motes? I mean, quantum physics might as well be black magic.
I sighed. "Okay, for the sake of argument, let's say I believe you. Do all bees gather this stuff?"
"No." He continued in his patient tone as if I had not been rude. "I have specially bred my bees to detect and gather motes. They are, therefore, of inestimable value. The honey they produce has a variety of uses, including curing my brother's victims."
I couldn't believe this--it was too fantastic. His explanation fit the observed facts--but what an explanation! If this mote thing was real, I'd just stepped out of my familiar world into Neverland. A shiver ran through me, and my cold hands turned a degree colder. I had a sudden urge to leap out of the cart and run.
Yet--precious treasures in frail vessels. God had already told me that he made the motes--Mal only used them.
But, by extension, that made vampires real, too.
I struggled to voice the nameless fear rising in me. "Will I--will I turn into a vampire?"
Mal looked at me, and his eyes dimmed to ash. "No. You will be only a thrall."
His tone sent fresh jitters through me. "A what?"
"A being under the power of another." He gazed at the beehives in the near distance. "It has to do with the motes--all particles have a positive and a negative charge. A negative life mote is, of course, a death mote. Creatures like Robert are awash in death motes, and transfer them to their victims in their saliva."
He laid a hand on my bandaged hand. "You are suffering much damage from the death motes in your blood. While the honey tipped you back toward recovery, Robert's bite extracted them. He feeds upon the life motes in other beings."
I tucked my hands inside my warm coat. I couldn't believe this stuff--it was too fantastic--but particles with positive and negative charges made sense. These particles happened to be charged with life or death. Despite my chill, I was sweating with tension. "The doctors said I have Valley Fever."
"Then my honey should not have affected you."
I opened my mouth and shut it again. It had made me well for one glorious day. I couldn't deny it. And Robert's bite had immediately made me sick--then Robert tried to kill the bees.
Robert's actions made no sense--unless Mal was telling the truth.
He slid out into the rain. "Come. I will show you the motes themselves."
My curiosity was stronger than my weakness from the cold. I climbed out into the rain and followed him.
Mal
Libby reeked of death. Robert had recently fed upon her, certainly. I could not fathom how she still lived, other than sheer force of will.
Despite her condition,
Where was he going with this? "Yeah. It causes clouds to form, doesn't it?"
He raised an approving eyebrow. "Yes. Very good. What science has not discovered is that a secondary particle accompanies the rays. I call them life motes, but I do not fully understand them. They are absorbed and metabolized by plants, and ingested by animals."
"Life motes?" My turn to raise an eyebrow. "Is this going to be a discussion about chi?"
He almost-smiled again. "No. It is difficult to harness the power in the motes, but various people have found ways. Motes respond to observation and interaction. Some call them magic."
"Whoa, whoa." I held up both hands. "You're not going to tell me that your bees harvest magic and make honey out of it." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. We'd gone from the supernatural I could believe to the supernatural I couldn't.
But he simply fixed me with his strange eyes. "It made you well, did it not?"
"Sure, but honey has nutrients and stuff. You told me, yourself."
He turned away and watched the raindrops splatter on the cart's hood.
I waited for him to respond. The longer he sat there, the more I had time to think about what I'd said. My knee-jerk reaction hurt his feelings. And what if he was right? Science was always finding new particles. Was it so hard to believe there were life motes? I mean, quantum physics might as well be black magic.
I sighed. "Okay, for the sake of argument, let's say I believe you. Do all bees gather this stuff?"
"No." He continued in his patient tone as if I had not been rude. "I have specially bred my bees to detect and gather motes. They are, therefore, of inestimable value. The honey they produce has a variety of uses, including curing my brother's victims."
I couldn't believe this--it was too fantastic. His explanation fit the observed facts--but what an explanation! If this mote thing was real, I'd just stepped out of my familiar world into Neverland. A shiver ran through me, and my cold hands turned a degree colder. I had a sudden urge to leap out of the cart and run.
Yet--precious treasures in frail vessels. God had already told me that he made the motes--Mal only used them.
But, by extension, that made vampires real, too.
I struggled to voice the nameless fear rising in me. "Will I--will I turn into a vampire?"
Mal looked at me, and his eyes dimmed to ash. "No. You will be only a thrall."
His tone sent fresh jitters through me. "A what?"
"A being under the power of another." He gazed at the beehives in the near distance. "It has to do with the motes--all particles have a positive and a negative charge. A negative life mote is, of course, a death mote. Creatures like Robert are awash in death motes, and transfer them to their victims in their saliva."
He laid a hand on my bandaged hand. "You are suffering much damage from the death motes in your blood. While the honey tipped you back toward recovery, Robert's bite extracted them. He feeds upon the life motes in other beings."
I tucked my hands inside my warm coat. I couldn't believe this stuff--it was too fantastic--but particles with positive and negative charges made sense. These particles happened to be charged with life or death. Despite my chill, I was sweating with tension. "The doctors said I have Valley Fever."
"Then my honey should not have affected you."
I opened my mouth and shut it again. It had made me well for one glorious day. I couldn't deny it. And Robert's bite had immediately made me sick--then Robert tried to kill the bees.
Robert's actions made no sense--unless Mal was telling the truth.
He slid out into the rain. "Come. I will show you the motes themselves."
My curiosity was stronger than my weakness from the cold. I climbed out into the rain and followed him.
Mal
Libby reeked of death. Robert had recently fed upon her, certainly. I could not fathom how she still lived, other than sheer force of will.
Despite her condition,
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