Contractor (43 page)

words were slurred. "Not you…with…"

The ground rumbled. Something was

coming. Daniel readied his weapon.

He blinked. The world looked different.

Distorted, shiny. It took him a moment to

figure out was it was. They’d been encased

in what looked like a prism of solid crystal.

Daniel tested his hand on the wall. He

sucked in his breath and drew back. It was

so cold it burned his skin through his gloves.

Not crystal. Ice.

"I wouldn’t try that. It’ll hurt quite a bit."

Daniel looked up. Standing outside their

prison was Eleanor Astor, still in her red

cocktail dress, along with several of her

suited bodyguards. They all wore the white

and gold tabards. Behind them was Rachel.

The magicians couldn’t sense Daniel

and Jack. They couldn’t sense the contractor

magic. The only way they would have known

is if Rachel had told them.

Rachel had lied.

Jack groaned. "I tried to tell you…" He

coughed. "…dumbass."

Daniel fell to his knees. His mace

dropped from his hands and into the grass.

His arms shook.

Eleanor turned. "Call my father. I can

hold them until he arrives. He’ll be able to

perform a seal strong enough to lock them up

for transport."

Daniel looked up. Eleanor stared back

at him. "I am Eleanor Astor. With the

authority invested in me by the Ivory Dawn,

and under international treaty, you’re under

arrest for the use of forbidden magic. Take

off your mask and identify yourself."

Daniel’s brain clicked through her last

sentence. She wanted him to identify himself.

She didn’t know who he was.

Why would Rachel tell her only half the

story?

Daniel noticed movement from the

corner of his eye. Rachel was gesturing with

her hands and winking behind all their backs.

Signaling him.

She hadn’t told them anything. Eleanor

must have been suspicious when she saw

Rachel so exhausted. Maybe Rachel couldn’t

weasel her way out of an explanation. But

they still didn’t know who was inside the

armor.

Daniel didn’t know how much more of

this he could take. It felt like his heart had

been ripped to pieces then taped back

together three times in the past ten minutes.

He hated himself for doubting her for even

that instant. He gripped his mace, shoved that

feeling into his legs, and forced his way to

his feet.

"Identify yourself!"

Daniel wouldn’t survive an encounter

with Henry Astor. He pushed power into the

mace and tested it on the side of the ice. The

translucent barrier crackled and fizzed at the

contact. Blue sparks flared against his white

glow. It smelled like ozone.

"You’ll only make it worse for yourself

if you try anything else," Eleanor warned.

"…worse?" Jacked mumbled. He

hacked a laugh. "Worse than Hell? Fuck

you!"

"That’s enough! Back off and put the

weapon down, now!"

Daniel charged his mace and slammed it

into the wall of the prison. He struck it again,

and again, beating the same spot. Eleanor

threw her hands up. The ice glowed blue.

"You cannot break free. I command some of

the strongest defensive magic in the world."

Daniel hit faster. A piece of ice chipped

away. He stopped, examining the tiny flaw.

After a brief moment, the crack sealed itself.

It reminded him of the way Rachel’s golems

patched themselves together.

He looked at Eleanor. A bright blue

sigil sat under her feet. Her eyes were

closed; she was deep in focus. If this was her

specialty, he might be in trouble, but he

didn’t have a lot of options.

He pounded his mace into his target. The

ice reformed. He blasted it away. It reformed

again. He cut it again.

Faster.
His arms blurred. He shaved ice

from the wall, gouging a deep crevice in the

prison. Sweat formed on Eleanor’s head as

the blue glow increased to match his effort.

Faster!
Daniel put everything he had

into it. His muscles burned. His breath came

in sharp gasps.

His mace stuck in ice. He’d formed a

hole that stretched partway through the wall.

He pulled the weapon free, then kept

attacking, widening that crater, thinning the

surface. His feet had sunk several inches into

the dirt from the force of his attacks.

Cracks snapped up the wall of the

prison as Daniel blew larger chunks free.

Eleanor grunted to keep the prison from

faltering. Her bodyguards formed up where

he was trying to force through. His wrists felt

like they would fall off. Rachel was biting

her nails.

He was almost out of energy. It had to

be enough. He drew the mace back for one

last, breakout strike. All the power he’d put

into speed, he shoved into his weapon. The

head of the mace shone like a miniature sun.

He put both hands on the back end of the

handle and lunged.

The ice around the crater buckled.

Fractures spidered up its surface. Eleanor’s

blue magic hissed as Daniel’s white aura

burned through it.

But the wall held.

It hadn’t been enough. Daniel attacked

again, but with nowhere near the same

power. Bits of ice dropped to the ground, but

the wall didn’t break. He wasn’t strong

enough.

Eleanor replanted her feet. The cracks

began to seal themselves. The ice layers

started reforming, slow now, but steady. The

bodyguards settled.

A black-coated fist rushed past him.

Jack’s knuckles connected with the

crater. Icy shrapnel exploded outward.

Eleanor and the guards flinched, shielding

themselves with their hands.

Jack’s arm dropped to the ground.

"Run."

Daniel dived out the opening and

sprinted forward. He felt a blast of heat

explode over his head. He jumped over a

pond and ducked across a road and into an

alley. There were more flashes of magic

behind him.

He put on a burst of speed with the last

shred of his power. He left his pursuers a

few streets behind and stumbled onto the

university campus. He went around the back

side of his dorm, forced the window open

with his pocket knife, crawled in, and

collapsed onto the carpet.

His adrenaline died like a burned-out

candle. He lay there, sitting in his armor,

breathing. His limbs were numb. His eyes

felt dry and hollow.

This was the world he lived in, now. It

was a place where everything could go to

shit in seconds. Weren’t they supposed to be

fighting the Vorid? What happened to that?

Daniel slammed his fist into his dresser.

Jack had destroyed everything. Why? What

made his friend think that was a good thing?

He stripped off his armor and shoved it

under his bed. His hands throbbed. His

palms were raw and red where his mace had

been worked over and over, iron-plated

gloves or not.

Jack’s desk lamp was still on. His

computer was open. A Wing Blade

Commander wallpaper filled the monitor.

His backpack sat below his dresser, still

covered with stickers and pins, the relics of

good memories he wanted to carry with him.

His bed was unmade, the hallmark of the lazy

college student.

This was the person that had

transformed into a rampaging monster in a

single night.

Daniel shut off all the lights. He laid on

his mattress. He didn’t sleep.

He barely slept anymore. He was a

Contractor.

Chapter Nine

Magicians

Daniel crawled out of bed at 7:30am.

His exhaustion was replaced with hunger. He

marched to the common room and texted

Rachel.

I’m in the lounge. Want to eat

breakfast?

Sure just 1 sec

A minute later, she came in. Her hair

was frizzed up around her forehead. Her

eyes looked tired. They walked to the dining

hall without speaking.

Their breakfast was silent. Despite

having been so hungry, Daniel suddenly

wasn’t able to eat. He picked at his waffle

and sipped orange juice. Rachel’s appetite

was equally tepid.

Daniel looked out the window. Big ugly

clouds rolled across tiny patches of blue sky.

He was getting used to the Northeast winter.

Forever overcast, with occasional bright

clear days that were somehow freezing cold.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand the quiet

any longer. "What happened to Jack?" he

asked.

Rachel set her fork down. "He’s been

taken to our headquarters outside New York

City. He’ll be tried and sentenced for his

crimes."

"Thank you for trusting me."

"I love you." Rachel’s voice trembled.

"You haven’t hurt anyone? You swear?"

"No one," Daniel said. "I swear."

Rachel nodded, took a long gulp of

water, then clamped her cup to the table.

"Tell me how you got here."

Daniel explained it all from the start.

She was familiar with Xik. Apparently the

alien frog was ambassador to the magicians,

too, now infamous for creating contractors

despite their rejection of the idea. He told

her about his abilities, and what he’d been

able to do.

"You’re already really strong. More

than me, probably." She looked at him. "Was that your full speed, back there?"

"I can’t go my full speed," Daniel said.

"If I’m running long distance, it’s one thing,

but if I have to stop short, my momentum

becomes a problem. It’s impractical when I

fight. I make small movements, rely on my

reflexes. That sort of thing."

"I might…I could probably help you

with that," Rachel said. "A lot of people use physical enchantments. There’s a lot of

techniques to deal with that sort of

limitation."

"How?"

"You might be able to learn a simple

physical sigil. Something easy. Aura-based,

rather than explicitly directed. I’m not an

expert, but I know a few."

"Then you do trust me."

"I said I did."

"I didn’t know what to think after your

reaction," Daniel said. He leaned low over

their table. "You know what? I’m scared,

ok? I’m frightened out of my mind. Maybe I

don’t look it." Daniel moved his arm across

the table and put his hand on hers. "But the

threat of dying and going to Hell was nothing

compared to when I thought you’d hate me. I

didn’t know what to do. I knew I cared about

you, Rachel, but that made me realize

something different."

"…what?"

"I need you."

Rachel smiled a small, sad smile. "I

think…I feel the same."

"I won’t let you fight alone," he said. "If we work together, we’ll get a lot more done

against the Vorid."

"Daniel, listen. You absolutely can’t use

your powers. It’s too dangerous. If anyone -"

"I know my magic can’t be sensed,"

Daniel said. "I can stay hidden."

She slapped the table. "You don’t

understand!" A few people looked over,

raising their eyebrows and murmuring.

Rachel sighed again and lowered her voice.

"There’s a reason we sentence people that

use vampiric enchantments so harshly."

"I’m listening."

"Thousands of years ago, there was a

demon emperor," Rachel said. "Details are

vague. Only the heads of a few magical

orders know the full story. He ruled Hell

with an iron fist, and eventually, he invaded

Earth. His armies were strong, but he himself

was unstoppable. He was the first to

discover the vampiric enchantment.

Whenever he killed, he healed himself,

gained strength, stamina. His power made

him invincible."

"I don’t remember that one in history

class," Daniel said. "But it sounds like what happens when I take out a Vorid."

"The part of earth he conquered before

he was defeated was called Atlantis. Heard

of it now?"

"Yep. Know that one."

"A rebel alliance of mages, led by who

was probably the most naturally powerful

magician ever, made a pact with another

demon in Hell, one that wanted to overthrow

the emperor. Their combined forces sealed

the emperor in an artificial plane of

existence between our worlds—Hell. In the

demon language, Hell means seal. The

magician sacrificed himself to provide

enough power to get it done. The backlash of

that battle wiped Atlantis off the map."

"…so people are a little scared of

history repeating itself, I take it."

"That’s only the start," Rachel said. "He never shared the magic, but the method was

rediscovered in Europe several hundred

years ago by a magician known as Vlad the

Impaler."

Daniel frowned. "Isn’t he the basis of

the Dracula myth?"