windshield and flew toward my face. Without thinking, I yanked my hand from the book to swat it away.
The bee bounced against the door and dropped onto the seat. The wings buzzed, but the sound had changed. The pitch grew higher, like a tiny electrical motor burning itself out. Brown fog spread in a tiny cloud as the remnants of the wings rusted away. The body corroded next. A leg broke free. The bee collapsed onto its side, remaining legs curled inward, until nothing remained but an orange-brown smear of rust.
“That’s a new trick,” Jeff commented, staring at my hand. “Did you mean to do that?”
“Not exactly, no.” Leathery brown plates gloved my hand, stopping at the wrist. I curled my fingers, feeling the plates grind together like stones. There was very little sensation. I tugged at the wrist where armor met flesh, hoping I could peel it free, but this was my skin now.
I didn’t know what I had done, if it was permanent, or what it would do to me in the long run, and I had no doubt I would begin freaking the hell out very soon, but for the moment, there were bugs to kill.
A wasp burrowed through the hole the bumblebee had left and landed in Jeff’s hair. I plucked it away with my thumb and forefinger. It tried to sting me with an inch-long needle that looked thick enough to penetrate bone, but the tip rusted away as soon as it hit my hand.
I used my left hand to unbuckle my seat belt, then rolled down the window. I pulled the upper part of my body out until I could see the roof. I squinted against the wind and stretched out very carefully to flick away a cockroach. A ladybug crept toward me, and I reached over—
A passing truck honked. I jumped, and my hand slammed down on the ladybug. I yanked it back, but it was too late. The bug rusted away, as did an oversized handprint in the roof of Nidhi’s car.
“What did you do?” yelled Nidhi.
“Nothing!” I twisted around, trying to reach the ones on the rear windshield. The magic of this particular monster affected all metals, regardless of whether they were ferrous or not. But as long as I didn’t hit hard enough to crack the glass, the windshield should be fine.
Lena was pulling closer. I waved her back, then pointed to the insects. The last thing I wanted was to knock them off Nidhi’s car and onto Lena or her motorcycle.
Lena pointed right back, not at me, but at the tires.
“Oh, crap.” I ducked back into the car and grabbed my seat belt, only to have the buckle crumble like thin Styrofoam in my hand. “Nidhi, we’re about to lose the tires.”
I slid into the middle seat, trying to work the belt left-handed. I bumped Smudge’s cage in the process, and the thin bars melted away. I got the buckle clicked into place and scooped Smudge into my hand. The armor protected me from his nervous flames.
Nidhi had slowed down to about forty when the first tire blew out. Other cars honked and swerved around us as she fought for control. Her arms and hands tightened as the second tire followed the first, and the car lurched hard to the right. The front wheels hit dirt, and then we were spinning around, and centrifugal force pinned me to my seat.
By the time we jolted to a stop, we were in a ditch staring up at oncoming traffic. I set Smudge down and fumbled with the buckle. The airbags had gone off, body-slamming Jeff and Nidhi into their seats. They were both alive, and I didn’t see blood. As for me, I had a twinge in my neck that would no doubt evolve into something much worse, but I was pretty sure nothing was broken.
I opened the door and stumbled out of the car. Most of the swarm was flying away like silver sparks in the sun. I swatted the few that remained, hoping August Harrison felt every one.
Lena pulled off the road a short distance ahead. She jumped from the bike and sprinted toward us, bokken in hand. “Is everyone all right? Isaac, your hand—”
“Yah, that didn’t go quite the way I had hoped.” I walked around the car to check the damage. Both tires were shredded. We had driven on the rims for those last forty feet or so. This thing wasn’t going anywhere without major work.
“Whatever hand sanitizer you’ve been using, I’m staying the hell away from it,” said Jeff as he climbed out.
“Is it permanent?” Lena asked.
“I’m not even sure what I did.” I suspected it was similar to the way people could reach into books and infect themselves with various strains of vampirism. They weren’t being bitten by literal vampires; they were simply remaking their bodies through magic.
What worried me was the fact that such magic was intrinsic, robbing the person of their ability to use extrinsic magic. If this was permanent, or worse yet, if it began to spread…“I’ll be fine. I just need something to wrap around my hand so I don’t keep breaking everything I touch.”
Nidhi popped the trunk and pulled out an old blanket. Lena ran her index finger over the length of her bokken, restoring the wood’s edge, then handed the weapon to Nidhi. With a nod of thanks, Nidhi began cutting.
“I saw the things that took out the tires, and they were bigger,” said Lena. “More like birds than insects. I couldn’t tell if they got away, or if they were destroyed when you spun out.”
“Nicholas—Victor—said something about the insects breeding and evolving.”
Another car slowed, but Lena waved them on. We circled the car, searching from top to bottom for any stragglers, but the insects were gone.
“Next time, we’re taking your car,” Nidhi said.
I started to answer, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. I set Smudge on my shoulder and reached for it, then caught myself. The case was mostly plastic and glass, but there was enough metal trim that a single touch could turn the thing into a useless brick.
“Allow me.” Lena grinned and slipped a hand into my pocket. For several seconds, I forgot about August Harrison, mutant wendigos, and my messed-up hand. She planted a quick kiss on my neck that sent goose bumps down my spine, then pulled out the phone.
I blinked and concentrated on the message from Gutenberg. The automaton was dying, which meant we were running out of time. “Harrison is close by. If Lena and I ride together, we can still catch him.”
Nidhi’s face was expressionless. She tossed the wadded-up length of blanket to me and climbed back into the car without a word to get the GPS. Nidhi had told me she was struggling to adjust to our new relationship, but this was the first time I had seen that struggle.
“I’m sorry,” Lena said quietly, watching Nidhi. “That was stupid. I was worried about you. I saw you fighting off those insects, and then you were moving around in the back seat and the car was out of control. You scared me. You both did.”
I grabbed the end of the blanket and began wrapping the rest around my fist. “So go tell her.”
Lena studied my eyes, like she was searching to see if I meant it.
“Your girlfriend was just in an accident, and the first thing she saw was you hugging and getting friendly with me.”
She stared at me, then smiled. “I chose better than I realized.”
“I’ll meet you at your bike.”
Intellectually, I had more-or-less come to terms with our relationship weeks ago. But this was the first time I had been able to walk away from the two of them without feeling those barbs of jealousy and insecurity. I didn’t turn around to watch Lena’s good-bye—I wasn’t certain how stable this newfound peace was—but it was a start.
10
