The Fangs of Freelance

by Drew Hayes

  Gingerly, as though he were afraid it might burn us both, Albert set the candle down in my hand. Once that was done, he reached up and adjusted the position of his sword to make sure it would draw easily. Aside from cleaning and training, he rarely ever pulled the blade from its sheath, but I knew he wouldn’t hesitate if they found themselves in danger. I’d seen firsthand the depths of resolve Albert could summon when his best friend was in danger, and for the sake of the ghost, I hoped we found the magical objects before he found Albert and Neil. That sword had chopped a chimera back into its base creatures; I could only imagine what it would do to an insubstantial being.

  “Be careful, Fred,” Neil told me, stealing the words right out of my mouth. “We’re going up against a mage on his home turf, and that’s the most dangerous type of place to engage a magic-user, dead or not. Try to make it back to the library in one piece, or at least enough pieces that we can put you back together.”

  “Encouraging,” I replied. “You two keep each other safe.”

  “We will.” There was more force in Albert’s words than usual, and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as he and Neil headed back down the hallway. It was hard to worry about them, honestly. Between Neil’s expertise and Albert’s raw power, I imagined there was precious little left in this house that could be a real threat to them.

  When they were back to the stairs, I turned and started making my way further into the basement. The candle’s direction was unwavering, but it was no substitute for a good map. More than once, it would be pointing directly into a wall, forcing me to work my way around the tunnels until I found a way past the obstacle and got back on track.

  By the third detour, I had lost all sense of where I was and had begun to consider taking Lillian’s advice by breaking down the next wall I encountered. Not my usual style, true, but time was of the essence, and I didn’t imagine anyone would notice one more broken element in this castle. All that stayed my hand was the knowledge that any one of these might be load-bearing, and while I could be trapped under a sudden collapse, the ghost wouldn’t be inconvenienced in the slightest. Mercifully, the way around was a short one, and as I rounded a bend, I found myself staring into a nearly empty room, directly where the candle was pointing.

  I say nearly empty, because there were a few things in there: a busted bed frame with a stained mattress, a tattered stack of books next to a threadbare armchair, and a single glowing gem in the center of a cheap golden necklace. The gem probably didn’t glow normally, or else whoever cleaned this place up certainly would have taken it into agency possession, but it was casting quite a bit of light now—dark, hunter green-colored light that was swirling up into the substantially less see-through form of our ghost.

  He was hovering over it, hands outstretched as the swirling light filled him, turning the misty form into something dark green and visible. I stepped in as the last of the glow faded from the gem and flowed up into the ghost. The candle I was holding sputtered once, and then died, leaving only a small trail of smoke behind.

  “The vampire.” He was looking at me, definitely not surprised this time. “I see you were looking for my trinket. Have you come here to pillage my home? Is that why you freed me? Because you wished to loot the legendary treasure of Josiah Fenmoore, and instead stumbled upon his trapped spirit?”

  The ghost, evidently named Josiah, floated closer to me. Despite the initial urge to bolt, I stood my ground. Scary as he might be, I was still a vampire, and I was hoping that perhaps he could be talked out of whatever he was planning. It was pretty much the only shot we had, since I’d already failed the plan and let him gather magic from one of his hidden caches.

  “We just came here to catalog what was left behind after you died, Josiah. I’m an accountant, not an agent. I don’t know exactly what you were trying to do here, but it didn’t work. You don’t need to hang on like this. It’s okay to let go. To pass on.”

  “Pass on?” Josiah’s face was growing more distinct by the moment, and I could see the fury in his eyes as he spat those words. “Do you have any idea the glory I was trying to bring to this world? The cleansing would have been perfection beyond words. I’ve spent my life communing with beings beyond the realm of human understanding, looking at the gorgeous chaos of their worlds and understanding how flawed ours was. My dream was to spread that beauty over the entire Earth, and just when I stood at the precipice of seeing it come to fruition, those damned agents showed up and ruined everything.”

  He kept getting closer, and it took all of my self-control not to back away. Some part of my mind was looking at this as predator and prey, and if I flinched, it would mark me as the latter. I couldn’t do that, not if I wanted to keep any hope of controlling the situation.

  “So I should just let it go, vampire? Move on? Forget a lifetime of effort because of one failure? Folly! One does not let a single setback keep them from success. We learn, adapt, and move forward, but never give up. And really, who are you to lecture me about passing on? You are a dead man who insists on walking about, subsisting off the blood of the living. Just a soul inside a corpse, nothing more. But I am glad it was you who found me, vampire.”

  He’d closed the distance before I realized what he intended, his glowing hands already reaching out to grab me. “After all, one soul in a corpse is as good as any other, and once I take your flesh, I’ll be able to start my work anew.”

  6.

  Just when it seemed like Josiah was about to plunge those glowing hands through my sweater vest and into my sternum, they stopped. Sorry, they were stopped is more accurate. Sparks flashed across his fingers as a burst of light darted around me, driving the ghost momentarily back. He glowered at me, caught between surprise and fury.

  “Protection charms?”

  Right . . . Neil had cast some warding spells on me before we left for the basement. I’d never been entirely sure what those did, but apparently stopping ghost possession was one of the benefits. Josiah looked down at his hands, the green light momentarily burned away, and then back to me. “No matter. Such paltry wards cannot stand up to a focused effort, or a—hey!”

  That last bit came because I’d dashed out the door midway through his monologue. Between the very clear threat that he thought the wards could be beaten and having a few seconds to put my thoughts in order, it became clear what the obvious course of action was: I had to get out of there, fast. Partially because, yes, standing around and letting him wear down my protection to try and steal my body was the height of idiocy, but also because I knew something Josiah didn’t: there was another vampire on the premises, and she didn’t have any protective spells around her. If he chanced upon Lillian before I could warn her, she could be in serious trouble. As would we, actually, since she was easily the strongest person in the castle.

  There was no time to plot a course, not that I really could have even if I’d wanted to. Without the candle as guidance and no time to stop and look around, I had little idea of where I was heading. Rather than dwelling on it, I focused on moving. I could hear Josiah mumbling curses from behind me, though from how far back was impossible to say. He might be able to move through walls, but I was fairly certain he couldn’t see through them, so as long as I kept up my frantic pace, I could theoretically lose him.

  It’s hard to say how long I was down there for, bolting around hallway after hallway, turn after turn. It all quickly ran together, and I could have easily been backtracking without realizing it. The only part that sticks out in my memory is when I dashed around a corner and found myself staring up at the loveliest thing I’d seen since entering this place: a set of stone steps leading upward. They were different than the ones I’d used to enter the basement; however, that was a blessing given how much sunlight had been around that first entrance. Without pause, I all but leapt up the stairs, my hand only slowing when it gripped the knob.

  I had no way of knowing what was on the other side of this door, and while it probably
wasn’t as immediately scary as a vengeful ghost, it might be far more dangerous. If it was in direct sunlight, I’d be burned before I had a chance to leap back. Granted, I had some blood in my briefcase back at the library, and with what I’d brought, I could handle healing a minor injury. Still, that briefcase might be a long way from here, and that assumed I was quick and smart enough to only get partly scorched.

  In the end, it was a simple equation. If I opened the door, I might get burned, but if Josiah found Lillian, we would be in serious danger. Better to play the odds—or at least, that was what I told myself as I pulled the door carefully open.

  Shadows fells across my arm, and I nearly choked on the relief. Peering through, I saw a hallway with several overturned tables, a few patches of easily avoidable sunlight, and more claw marks along the ground. It was more beautiful than it had any right to be, and I darted out the door quickly, putting a touch more emphasis on moving silently as I sped along.

  Navigating the castle in daytime was no small feat by itself, and more than once I had to turn back when I found myself staring down a patch of hallway completely filled with sunlight. Much as I enjoyed my silver immunity, I’d have traded it in a heartbeat to never fear another dawn. Since such bargains were not on the table, I resolved myself to doing the best I could with what I had and continued my trek.

  Finally, I found myself looking at a stretch of rubble that seemed familiar, and I realized that I had nearly arrived at the library. Taking a few more turns, I blasted through the entrance, only to feel an object slam into my chest, sliding right between my ribs. I looked down to find the handle of a dagger sticking out from my sweater vest, still trembling in place.

  “What the heck?” My eyes turned upward to find Neil, Albert, and Lillian all staring tensely at me. “I can’t believe I have to ask this, but who just stabbed me?”

  Neil raised his hand, not even bothering to look sheepish. “I wove a throwing charm on the dagger’s handle, had it cocked to throw as soon as you came tearing in.”

  “That’s the who and how. Now, if one of you could be bothered, I think I would very like to hear the why.” Grabbing it in my hand, I yanked the dagger out. A small pool of blood formed on my sweater vest, although it was far less than a human would have yielded. Vampires could certainly bleed, just not as much as mortals. A sticky red residue of my own inner fluid was coating the blade, yet even through it, I could catch the barest whiff of silver.

  “Neil said that you might not be you,” Albert explained. He walked over with a hand towel, and I began the pointless endeavor of trying to mop up the blood from my clothes. Nothing short of an expert cleaner, or perhaps something magical from Amy, was going to get this stain out.

  “When the ghost drained one of his magical implements, it made our candle go nuts,” Neil explained. “Since we’d already found our item, it stood to reason he’d gotten the one you were after. An amped-up planomancer wasn’t going to let a perfectly good vessel get away, so we hightailed it back here and prepared to deal with you.”

  “You, uh . . . you okay there, Fredrick?” Lillian was eyeing me cautiously. She couldn’t think I was really possessed, but her eyes wouldn’t stop darting between the blade in my hand and the stain on my shirt. “You’re healing that wound pretty fast.”

  Of course . . . I’d forgotten that Lillian wasn’t in on my silver secret. Much as I might have loved to explain, this hardly seemed like the time or place, so I just shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve been keeping well-fed.”

  Whether she bought it or not—which she almost certainly didn’t—was a matter that would have to wait. As I stood there, mopping up the last of my blood, I heard a gasp from Neil and saw Albert take a step back. It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened, yet I still played into the theatrics and slowly turned around. I don’t have any excuse for this, save only that it felt like what I should do in the moment.

  Sure enough, floating above us was the still glowing form of Josiah Fenmoore. On the upside, that probably meant he hadn’t used the recovered power to free himself from the castle, but on the other hand, it meant he had all of that magic to throw at us. I spun around, putting myself directly between Lillian and Josiah. At least if he went for me, he’d have to break through the wards. Hopefully that would buy enough time for Neil to cast something.

  “Josiah, I urge you one last time: pass on. Let go of this world. Move on to somewhere better. You can’t really expect to defeat all of us.”

  He stared down at us, looking less intimidated than I would have preferred, and sneered. “You are no challenge to me, only tools to be wielded. With your flesh and strength, I shall repair what the agents destroyed, and this time, I will be ready when they come to interrupt me.”

  “Still want my body? Well then, come and try to take it. That’s if you can break through my wards before my friends find a way to stop you, I mean.” It was, admittedly, a risky gambit, but if I could keep Josiah distracted for even a minute, I was sure Neil would be able to bind him. Whether we liked each other or not, I respected his skill and trusted him to do what was right. In a pinch, Neil would come through. I truly believed that.

  Which made it all the more worrisome when I heard his voice come from behind me. “Um, Fred . . . silver dagger, remember? That’s enough to unravel all but the most serious of enchantments. Those wards are toast.”

  Josiah grinned with ghastly delight, as I whipped my head around and glared at Neil. “Perhaps that was something you might have shared with me before the ghost arrived. Or at least out of his earshot.” The last few words came out as a hiss; my nerves were fraying as my vision darted frantically between Neil and Josiah.

  To my surprise, Neil was smiling too, even as Josiah flung himself forward with his hands outstretched. “Why would I? Come on, Fred, you’ve got this.”

  Those were the last words to reach my ears before Josiah flung his whole being through my chest and took a firm grip on my very soul.

  7.

  Having two souls in the same body was not a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination. We both were there, yet not, and as we fought for control, bits and ends seemed to come loose. I found myself reliving some of Josiah’s memories: of the first time he’d managed to cast a spell, of the day he brought a creature from another plane successfully over, and of the day the agents came.

  That memory was the clearest, which was no surprise since it was the most recent. But it was also the most terrifying. I could see June and September sweeping through the lab, Josiah huddled in the corner. There was no levity or joy in June’s face; her eyes were hard and cold. Frozen. Both of them moved with perfect teamwork and precision, gun in one hand and blade in the other. With their every motion, a creature fell, splitting open to reveal ashes inside, nothing like what lay inside the animals of our world. Then June turned, and those hard eyes were on me. No, on Josiah. She yelled something at him, urging him to give up, but instead, he raised his hands and tried to cast. For a moment, I caught a flicker of sadness behind those cold eyes, then the hand with her gun twitched and there was no more memory to watch.

  Watching Josiah’s death was draining, which only made matters worse. He was already the stronger of the two of us; I could feel my hold weakening. Soon, he’d get full control of my body, and when he did, I had no doubt he would cast me from it. Would I be a ghost then, as he’d been, or would I simply pass on as most of the dead did? It wasn’t a question I was keen to find the answer to, so I redoubled my efforts and fought him every step of the way.

  Why . . . why had Neil told him I was vulnerable? Why had he been so sure I would have the matter well in hand? Neil wouldn’t betray me, not like this, not in front of Albert. I had to believe there was a way out, if only I could find it. He wouldn’t be counting on me to overpower the ghost; Neil would never think so highly of my will. It had to be something tangible, something I could do. But what was there? All I had around me were a bunch of books and
a bloody . . . knife. A bloody silver knife. And while I wasn’t bothered by the stuff anymore, it still acted as a grounding agent for magic, which Josiah was almost entirely composed of. Sure, no normal vampire would risk plunging a silver dagger into himself, but he didn’t know that I was no normal vampire.

  Unfortunately, this realization came just as I was losing ground in the battle for control. He was winning, and it wouldn’t take him much longer to grab that victory. So, rather than try and hold on, I abandoned control of everything else. All that I was, all that I had, went into my right arm. Using every last bit of willpower left, I twisted the blade around and jammed it back into my chest.

  Pain. Horrible pain. Not mine, but so close and tangible it may was well have been. I could feel Josiah burning away, his magic unraveling as he futilely tried to find refuge from the poisonous metal that had been plunged into his nice new body. He tried to pull back, but he’d burrowed in too deeply, and with every passing second, more of his strength eroded. Finally, Josiah succeeded in pulling free, bursting out of me with an ear-splitting howl.

  Though it was nearly drowned out in his scream, I still heard Neil mutter a few words of gibberish, and suddenly the howling stopped. For my part, I was slumped over on the floor, trying to remember how to move my own limbs. It’s not a thing that generally requires much thought, until a vengeful ghost nearly ousts you from any connection to them. They were mine again, though, and as someone yanked the dagger from my chest, I could feel it slide free. My body was my own. Seconds later, Lillian appeared, tilting my flask into my mouth and pouring blood down my throat. Thankfully, I didn’t need control to drink; my vampire instincts took care of that without hesitation.

  Slowly, I came back to myself, eventually managing to sit up. Standing would take longer, but at least I could see the room. Josiah was floating nearby—a little too near, if I’m honest—opening his mouth and yelling as he slapped at an unseen barrier. His glow was almost entirely gone, the magic either destroyed by the silver or used to escape my body, with only the barest traces of green light dancing through his form. My eyes trailed lower, to where a chalk circle marked the boundary Josiah was struggling against.